WHETHER THE SECOND OF THESE CONDITIONS IS NOT EXPRESSLY NOTICED BY
HUME.
It may seem so. But in fact it is not. And (what is more to the
purpose) we are not at liberty to consider it any accident that
it is not. Hume had his reasons. Let us take all in proper order:
1st, that it seems so; 2dly, that in fact it is not so; and 3dly,
that is no accident, but intentional.
1st. Hume seems to contemplate such a case, the case of a miracle
witnessed and attested by a multitude of persons, in the following
imaginary miracle which he proposes as a basis for reasoning. Queen
Elizabeth, as every body will remember who has happened to read
Lord Monmouth's Memoirs, died on the night between the last day
of 1602 and the first day of 1603: this could not be forgotten by
the reader, because, in fact, Lord M., who was one of Her Majesty's
nearest relatives (being a younger son of her first cousin Lord
Hunsdon), obtained his title and subsequent preferment as a reward
for the furious ride he performed to Edinburgh (at that time at
least 440 miles distant from London), without taking off his boots,
in order to lay the earliest tidings of the great event at the feet
of her successor. In reality, never did any death cause so much
posting day and night over the high roads of Europe. And the same
causes which made it so interesting has caused it to be the best
dated event in modern history; that one which could least be shaken
by any discordant evidence yet discoverable. Now, says Hume, imagine
the case, that, in spite of all this chronological precision--this
precision, and this notoriety of precision--Her Majesty's
court physicians should have chosen to propagate a story of her
resurrection. Imagine that these learned gentlemen should have
issued a _bulletin_, declaring that Queen Elizabeth had been
met in Greenwich Park, or at Nonsuch, on May-day of 1603, or in
Westminster, two years after, by the Lord Chamberlain when detecting
Guy Faux--let them even swear it before twenty justices of the
peace; I for one, says Hume, am free to confess that I would not
believe them. No, nor, to say the truth, would we; nor would we
advise our readers to believe them.
2dly. Here, therefore, it would seem as if Hume were boldly pressing
his principles to the very uttermost--that is, were challenging a
miracle as untenable, though attested by a multitude. But, in fact,
he is not. He only seems to do so; for, if no number of witnesses
could avail anything in proof of a miracle, why does he timidly
confine himself to the hypothesis of the queen's physicians only
coming forward? Why not call in the whole Privy Council?--or the Lord
Mayor and Common Council of London--the Sheriffs of Middlesex--and
the Twelve Judges? As to the court physicians, though three or
four nominally, virtually they are but one man. They have a common
interest, and in two separate ways they are liable to a suspicion
of collusion: first, because the same motives which act upon
one probably act upon the rest. In this respect, they are under a
_common_ influence; secondly, because, if not the motives, at
any rate the physicians themselves, act upon each other. In this
respect, they are under a _reciprocal_ influence. They are to
be reasoned about as one individual.
3dly. As Hume could not possibly fail to see all this, we may
be sure that his choice of witnesses was not accidental. In fact,
his apparent carelessness is very discreet management. His object
was, under the fiction of an independent multitude, to smuggle in
a virtual unity; for his court physicians are no plural body in
effect and virtue, but a mere pleonasm and a tautology.
And in good earnest, Hume had reason enough for his caution. How
much or how little testimony would avail to establish a resurrection
in any neutral [Footnote: By a neutral case is meant, 1st, one in
which there is no previous reason from a great doctrine requiring
such an event for its support, to expect a resurrection; 2dly, a
case belonging to a period of time in which it is fully believed
that miraculous agency has ceased.] case few people would be willing
to pronounce off-hand, and, above all, on a fictitious case. Prudent
men, in such circumstances, would act as the judges in our English
courts, who are always displeased if it is attempted to elicit their
opinions upon a point of law by a proposed fiction. And very reasonably;
for in these fictitious cases all the little circumstances of reality
are wanting, and the oblique relations to such circumstances, out
of which it is that any sound opinion can be formed. We all know
very well what Hume is after in this problem of a resurrection.
And his case of Queen Elizabeth's resurrection being a perfectly
fictitious case, we are at liberty to do any one of three different
things:--either simply to refuse an answer; or, 2dly, to give such
an answer as he looks for, viz., to agree with him in his disbelief
under the supposed contingency; without, therefore, offering the
slightest prejudice to any scriptural case of resurrection: i.
e., we might go along with him in his premises, and yet balk him
of his purpose; or, 3dly, we might even join issue with him, and
peremptorily challenge his verdict upon his own fiction. For it
is singular enough, that a modern mathematician of eminence (Mr.
Babbage) has expressly considered this very imaginary question of
a resurrection, and he pronounces the testimony of _seven_
witnesses, competent and veracious, and presumed to have no bias,
as sufficient to establish such a miracle. Strip Hume's case of
the ambiguities already pointed out--suppose the physicians really
separate and independent witnesses--not a corporation speaking by
one organ--it will then become a mere question of degree between
the philosopher and the mathematician--seven witnesses? or fifty?
or a hundred? For though none of us (not Mr. Babbage, we may be sure)
seriously believes in the possibility of a resurrection occurring
in these days, as little can any of us believe in the possibility
that seven witnesses, of honor and sagacity (but say seven hundred)
could be found to attest such an event when not occurring.
But the useful result from all this is, that Mr. Hume is evidently
aware of the case _Beta_, (of last Sect.) as a distinct case
from _Alpha_ or from _Gamma_, though he affects blindness:
he is aware that a multitude of competent witnesses, no matter
whether seven or seven hundred, is able to establish that which a
single witness could not; in fact, that increasing the number of
witnesses is able to compensate increasing incredibility in the
subject of doubt; that even supposing this subject a resurrection from
the dead, there may be assigned a quantity of evidence (_x_)
greater than the resistance to the credibility. And he betrays
the fact, that he has one eye open to his own Jesuitism by palming
upon us an apparent multitude for a real one, thus drawing all the
credit he can from the name of a multitude, and yet evading the
force which he strictly knew to be lodged in the thing; seeking the
reputation of the case _Beta_, but shrinking from its hostile
force.