There is, however, another circumstance connected with the present inquiry, which to some may appear in the light of a difficulty. What we allude to, is, that many of our most noted infidels, and Gibbon among the rest, have been men, in the common phrase, of exemplary lives. A perfect solution of this difficulty, if indeed it deserve the name, may be found in the superior standard of Christian morality, and the common origin of unbelief and immorality in one and the same state of heart. Of the highest tone of morals that ever prevailed in any, even the most virtuous order of the most virtuous community, may be said, what our Saviour said of the Pharisaical standard of virtue in his day: "Except your righteousness shall "exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye "shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven." More especially is this true, in regard to the universality of Christian rectitude. That religion knows of no compensation of virtue in one point for vice in another; it never sets merit in one case, against delinquency in others. It requires the whole man to be uniformly holy. Where then, we may ask, is the infidel whose conduct will bear this scrutiny? The infidel may indeed be an affectionate and faithful friend, but perhaps he is a hard-hearted, unfeeling landlord. He may be a tender husband, or an indulgent father; but is he not a proud and self-sufficient reasoner, a passionate and overbearing disputant? The outward conduct may be decent, but are the thoughts pure? The very term infidel implies, that the duties which we owe to our Maker are omitted by him. But farther, since from the same hardness of heart, proceed infidelity and profaneness on the one hand, and various kinds of evil conduct on the other, the unhallowed heart of man may choose, as it were, which of two distinct propensities it will chiefly indulge. The profligate is seldom a systematic infidel; he has neither talent nor time for constructing a compact system of profane philosophy. On the other hand, the professed thinker, be the subject what it may, cannot afford to waste his powers in idle dissipation and riot; hence, we are inclined to think, that the avowed infidel and the outwardly vicious man, have rarely met in the same person. Instead, therefore, of being surprised at the appearance of infidelity combined with decent morals, we should almost expect from reasoning a priori, to find the doubting philosopher tolerably moral in his general deport→

ment.

But it is high time to conclude this part of our inquiry, which we will therefore hasten to do, by briefly recapitulating what has been said on the subject of religious scepticism.: There is a certain state of the fallen human heart, which the Bible terms its hardness. It is such, that the things

which relate in any degree to religion, make little or no impression upon it. In consequence of this want of due impression, and of the influence which the heart exerts upon the other faculties of the soul, spiritual things cannot even be believed. This state is common to all men since the fall; and though it may be increased by peculiar circumstances of human life, it can be fully removed only by the application of the remedies provided in the Gospel. The first step towards the cure of this mental disease, consists in the acknowledgement of it, and that in its full extent, accompanied with a conviction that supernatural means alone can fully overcome it. Into the nature of those means, and of the proper application of them, we cannot here enter; that part of the subject must be left to the faithful ministers of the Gospel, whose proper business it is.

But it belongs to our branch of this important and interesting inquiry, to remark that eminent literary persons, such as Hume and Gibbon, besides the natural hardness of heart, of which they partake with the rest of the human race, are farther fixed in their unbelief, by their habits of close thinking, and by their elevated station in life; in other words, by the pride of literary eminence, and the adulatory approbation of the world. "How can ye believe," says our Saviour, "which "seek honour of one another, and seek not the honour which "cometh from God only?"

We have however seen, that a certain spurious kind of faith, may be effected without true conversion of heart, as in the case of a professional or clerical faith, when the heart has the support of temporal interest in overcoming its natural repugnance to the truths of revelation. There are probably other instances, besides that of the clerical order, in which the heart, without being truly softened by grace, and enlightened by the Holy Spirit, may attain to a species of faith, on the subject of religion, which, though not available for salvation, is not without its important uses, when confined to its proper place. An enthusiastic desire to excel in the systematic knowledge of religion, may, even in the laity, produce effects resembling those which are produced more generally in the clergy by the proper interests of their order. Self-admiration is an engine no less powerful than self-interest, in moving the heart, and causing it to admit evidence at its full value. We are however of opinion, that a clear line of distinction may be drawn between the circumstances in which even this spurious kind of faith is produced, and those which lead to avowed and open infidelity.

Whatever may have occasioned the first surmise, that possibly there may be truth in revelation, if that glimpse of light

、,

be fostered in a heart impressed merely with the natural weakness of the human intellect, there will always be more or less recourse had to secret prayer for Divine illumination, and that illumination will never be refused to the smallest degree of unfeigned humility. In such cases, great progress may be made in the scientific apprehension of Divine truth, while yet the heart may continue to evidence its native unchanged hardness by unchristian tempers, or even by grossly immoral conduct. It is in this way we would account for the luminous views of religious truth, which adorn the valuable writings of the late Bishop Horsley, and some others of our dignified clergy.

But where the pride of reason and of learning, as in the case of our two elegant historians,-(for in this point of view, Robertson stands clearly distinguished from his competitors; he certainly possessed at least clerical faith,) where the pride of reason and of learning will own no obligation to Heaven, disdaining even to ask assistance from above; where secret prayer, instead of being employed, is ridiculed; no wonder that the man being left to the unaided suggestions of his own unbroken heart, stumbles at the very threshold, and cannot so much as see the kingdom of heaven.

The subject, which we have thus ventured to examine, is so extremely important and, copious, that we find it difficult to know where to break off. Many detached parts of it might, if we had room, be more fully illustrated. But we trust our general views at least will be sufficiently understood; and hasten therefore to consider, in the next place, Mr. Gibbon's propensity to indelicacy in his quotations and allusions.

In this, as in our last inquiry, we shall boldly take the Bible for our guide, convinced that in those sacred pages, and in them alone, a correct and satisfactory delineation of the human heart is to be found.

But

The heart of man, in its natural state, resembles the rock of the desert; and in that state we have found it inaccessible · to the evidence of truth; but, while thus hardened against the impressions of good, it proves the fertile source of all manner of wickedness and impurity. In the language of inspiration, the nature of the effect is often ascribed to the cause; and the heart itself is represented as impure by nature. when, through the blood of the New Covenant, the stony heart is converted into a heart of flesh, its whole nature is at the same time transmuted. It not only receives the truth with faith unfeigned, but it loves and follows all that is good, it hates and rejects whatever is evil. With power to believe, the man obtains likewise power to avoid the evil, and to practise the good; and, in the same scriptural language, the heart

itself is said to be purified. So uniform indeed is the connexion between unbelief and impurity on the one hand, and true faith and holiness on the other, that had the Bible been silent, we might have doubted which of the two properties preceded, and which followed; which was the cause, and which the effect. But the sacred writings inform us, that it is faith which purifies the heart. "If ye continue in my "doctrine," says our Saviour, "then are ye my disciples in"deed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall "make you free;"-free, as he afterwards explains himself, from the service of sin. Hence, faith is the cause, and purity of heart and of life, the effect. And to the truth of this statement, we can ourselves from our own experience set our seal. No wonder then, that the infidel Gibbon should delight in impure allusion; nor is it any wonder, that in this respect also, Hume should resemble him; though the latter, it must be confessed, has not indulged his propensity to the same offensive degree. The superior delinquency of Gibbon in this respect, we would attribute to a property, which, though at first sight it may seem to make against him, is in reality somewhat in his favour. There is in general far more of ingenuousness in the character of Gibbon, than in that of Hume. The sincerity and uprightness in the character of our two historians, are nearly in the inverse ratio of the same properties, when applied to their several styles. Hume was in fact a consummate master of his passions; and has, by care and art, given to his style all the appearance of ease and artlessness. Gibbon was as artless in his character, as he is the reverse in his mode of writing. Whenever he speaks of himself, even in his Memoirs, but especially in writing to his friends, he discovers the very bottom of his heart. In conformity with this ingenuousness of disposition, which, by the way, throws great light upon his conversion to popery in early life, since his native artlessness would natu rally lay him open to the insidious attacks of the artful Bossuet on the subject of religion, especially if we take into the account, his comparative ignorance, the effect of his neglected education, and of the little attention paid to the cultivation of his young and vigorous mind by his superiors at Oxford:-in conformity with this ingenuousness of disposition, those indelicate thoughts in which his unhallowed heart delighted he was at no pains to conceal; and he would probably, according to a prejudice which is very common in the world on this subject, have considered it as an act of hypocrisy, had he disguised so powerful a propensity, by appearing more chaste in his writings, than he was in his life and character.

In Dr. Robertson we behold with satisfaction something of the power of faith, even of imperfect faith, to purify the

thoughts. We have no doubt that Robertson possessed faith, and that too of a species somewhat superior to mere clerical belief; we cannot however pretend, that his faith shone with any very intense degree of brightnesss; yet, such as it was, it discovered itself by producing, if not actual Christian purity of heart, at least a very high degree of professional propriety of deportment; and in his writings, a freedom from indelicacy, which leaves nothing to be wished for. We are not aware of one expression in all his works, that could give to the most delicate virgin-bashfulness the confusion of a blush.

On this subject of indelicate expression, whether in speech or writing, thus obtruded upon our notice, we could wish to be more explicit, as we flatter ourselves that peculiar opportunities for observation would enable us to treat it in a manner both interesting and useful. But we have already trespassed on the time and patience of our readers, to some of whom perhaps entire passages in this article may appear in the light of digressions. Here, therefore, we shall for the present dismiss the subject; perhaps we may find future occasions of bestowing farther attention upon some branches of those inquiries, which have come before us. One additional remark may however be indulged in, before we conclude.

A very able writer, in treating of the work we have been considering, after justly commending the Right Hon. Editor, for his judicious selection for publication of the most unexceptionable compositions of his learned friend, proceeds to counsel him with respect to the unknown stores which he may still possess. With this counsel, so far as regards the withholding from the public any effusions of the late Mr. Gibbon, which might prove injurious to unstable minds, in the two most essential points of religion and morals, we most heartily concur; but when he goes so far, as to advise the destroying of any writings of such a man as Gibbon, lest they should hereafter be incautiously made public, we are reluctantly constrained. to dissent from the opinion of one whom we otherwise rejoice to consider as a powerful ally, embarked in the same glorious cause with ourselves. We trust our readers will not think us tedious, if we state our reasons for the dissent with some minuteness.

Not historians only, but writers on the subject of human nature in general, have often regretted the liberty taken by the Christians, when their religion became dominant in the Roman Empire, to destroy many of the writings of their Pagan

*See Quarterly Review, January, 1815.