upon them; and take it for granted, whatever may be the reader's opinion at this present moment,
that an hour hence he will be persuaded there is both an external and internal world."
There is no reason for studying philosophy--so Hume maintains-except that, to certain
temperaments, this is an agreeable way of passing the time. "In all the incidents of life we ought
still to preserve our scepticism. If we believe, that fire warms, or water refreshes, 'tis only because
it costs us too much pains to think otherwise. Nay if we are philosophers, it ought only to be upon
sceptical principles, and from an inclination, which we feel to be employing ourselves after that
manner." If he abandoned speculation, "I feel I should be a loser in point of pleasure; and this is
the origin of my philosophy."
Hume's philosophy, whether true or false, represents the bankruptcy of eighteenth-century
reasonableness. He starts out, like Locke, with the intention of being sensible and empirical,
taking nothing on trust, but seeking whatever instruction is to be obtained from experience and
observation. But having a better intellect than Locke's, a greater acuteness in analysis, and a
smaller capacity for accepting comfortable inconsistencies, he arrives at the disastrous conclusion
that from experience and observation nothing is to be learnt. There is no such thing as a rational
belief: "If we believe that fire warms, or water refreshes, 'tis only because it costs us too much
pains to think otherwise." We cannot help believing, but no belief can be grounded in reason. Nor
can one line of action be more rational than another, since all alike are based upon irrational
convictions. This last conclusion, however, Hume seems not to have drawn. Even in his most
sceptical chapter, in which he sums up the conclusions of Book I, he says: "Generally speaking,
the errors in religion are dangerous; those in philosophy only ridiculous." He has no right to say
this. "Dangerous" is a causal word, and a sceptic as to causation cannot know that anything is
"dangerous."
In fact, in the later portions of the Treatise, Hume forgets all about his fundamental doubts, and
writes much as any other enlightened moralist of his time might have written; he applies to his
doubts the remedy that he recommends, namely "carelessness and inattention." In a sense, his
scepticism is insincere, since he cannot maintain it in practice. It has, however, this awkward
consequence,