. . I once had perswaded him to leave it entirely to my discretion either to publish them at what time I thought proper, or not to publish
them at all. Had he continued of this mind the manuscript should have been most carefully preserved and upon my decease restored to
his family; but it never should have been published in my lifetime. [September 5, 1776]
Smith continues in the above letter attempting to persuade Strahan to at least publish the Dialogues in an edition separate from Hume’s forthcoming
short autobiography. Strahan apparently agreed, and the autobiography was published separately in 1777. Smith wrote him the following note of
thanks to Strahan, explaining how sales of Hume’s other works might be enhanced by properly timing the release of the Dialogues:
I am much obliged to you for so readily agreeing to print the life together with my additions separate from the Dialogues. I even flatter
myself that this arrangement will contribute not only to my quiet but to your interest. The clamour against the Dialogues, if published
first, might hurt for some time the sale of the new edition of his works, and when the clamour has a little subsided the Dialogues may
hereafter occasion a quicker sale of another edition. [October, 1776]
Almost a half of a year later, Strahan was still undecided about whether he would even assume the task of publishing Hume’s Dialogues. In the
following letter to Hume’s nephew, Strahan explains that it might appear better if it was published by the nephew himself.
As for Mr. Hume’s Dialogues on Natural Religion, I am not yet determined whether I shall publish them or not. I have all possible
regard to the will of the deceased: But as that can be as well fulfilled by you as by me, and as the publication will probably make some
noise in the world, and its tendency be considered in different lights by different men, I am inclined to think it had better be made by you.
From you some will conclude it comes with propriety as done in obedience to the last request of your Uncle; as he himself expresses it;
from me it might be suspect to proceed from motives of interest. But in this matter I hope you will do me the justice to believe I put
interest wholly out of the question. However, you shall not, at any rate, be kept long in suspense, as you shall soon have my final
resolution. [February 3, 1777]
Ultimately, Strahan made his decision and declined to publish the Dialogues. In a letter to Hume’s brother (i.e., the father of Hume’s nephew)
Strahan repeats his reasoning that the Dialogues “might be published with more propriety” by the nephew (March 3, 1777).
The almost absurd preoccupation with public image continued as Hume’s brother strategized as to how long his son should delay in bringing the
Dialogues to the press. Hume’s brother recorded his thoughts in a reply to Strahan:
My opinion was that he [i.e., his son, and Hume's nephew] should delay the publication of the dialogues on Natural Religion till the end of
the two years, after this that he had a title by his uncles settlement upon your not publication of them; otherways it carried the
appearance of being too forward, and of more than he was called upon in duty; and if a clamour rose against it, he would have a difficult
task to support himself, almost in the commencement of his manhood. What weighs with him is, that his publishing as early as he had the
power, would look more like obedience, than a voluntary deed, and of judgement; and exculpate him in the eyes of the world… [March 13,
1777]
Indeed, Hume’s nephew delayed for two years and the Dialogues finally appeared in the middle of 1779. Upon its publication, Hume’s friend Hugh
Blair wrote to Strahan commenting on the lack of “noise” that it produced.
As to D. Hume’s Dialogues, I am surprised that though they have now been published for some time, they have made so little noise. They
are exceedingly elegant. They bring together some of his most exceptionable reasonings, but the principles themselves were all in his
former works. [August 3, 1779]
Within the following few months, four reviews of Hume’s Dialogues appeared, each of which confirmed Blair’s initial reaction. The first review to
appear was the lead article in the Critical Review journal. The review opened noting that “neither the friends of religion have any occasion to be
alarmed, nor her enemies to triumph. Freedom of enquiry can never be injurious to the cause of truth.” The reviewer concludes with only mild
criticism arguing that “If the objections advanced by Philo had been produced with modesty, and answered by Cleanthes as fully as the nature of the
question would have allowed, the author would have been applauded by every sensible and discerning reader. But when they are proposed with an air
of triumph and defiance, this work assumes a more disadvantageous form, the aspect of infidelity.” (September 1779, Vol. 48, pp. 161-172). The
second review of the Dialogues which appeared in the London Review was more flattering. The review expresses hope that “it will prove no
unacceptable present to the orthodox” and concludes that “…in our opinion, whoever carefully peruses these Dialogues will not readily be infected
with either of the two greatest corruptions of religion, enthusiasm or superstition” (1779, Vol. 10, pp. 365-373).
Finally, William Rose’s review in the Monthly Review opens noting that the Dialogues are “written with great elegance; in the true spirit of
ancient dialogue; and, in point of composition, is equal, if not superior, to any of Mr. Hume’s other writings. Nothing new, however, is advanced upon
the subjects.” Rose concludes, though, on a more negatively. For Rose, if Hume is right that God does not exist, then “the wicked are set free from
every restraint but that of the laws… the world we live in is a fatherless world; we are chained down to a life full of wretchedness and misery; and we
have no hope beyond the grave.” Rose notes that “Hume had been long floating on the boundless and pathless ocean of scepticism…” and Hume
should have desired a more secure peace at the end of his life. “But his love of paradox, his inordinate pursuit of literary fame, continued…” and, for
Rose, this formed Hume’s motive for publishing the Dialogues. Rose acknowledges that Hume lived a virtuous life, and suggests that Hume’s natural
good temper, education, and fortune overcame the negative effects of his philosophy. But if his philosophy was let loose among humankind, Rose
asks, “Will those who think they are to die like brutes, ever act like men?” Rose believes that even the best political system needs to be
supplemented with fear of divine punishment to curb immortality within the law. Nevertheless, Rose concedes that philosophically minded readers
will not be harmed by the Dialogues, although the Dialogues “may serve, indeed, to confirm… the unprincipled in their prejudices….” (November
1779, Vol. 61, pp. 343-355)
INTERPRETIONS OF THE DIALOGUES. In Hume’s day, as now, the two key interpretive questions of the Dialogues were (1) Which
character, if any, represents Hume?, and (2) What are the views of that character? Given its literary style, the Dialogues involve a complex web of
concealment, and, accordingly, Hume’s contemporaries took greater pains to understand the hidden meaning of the Dialogues. Virtually all early
commentators on the Dialogues attempted to identify Philo as Hume’s mouthpiece, as Rose does below in his review when declaring Philo the hero:
Cleanthes… defends a good cause very feebly, and is by no means entitled to the character of an accurate philosopher. Demea supports
the character of a sour, croaking divine, very tolerably; but PHILO is the hero of the piece; and it must be acknowledged, that he urges his
objections with no inconsiderable degree of acuteness and subtlety.
The London Review also made this clear from the outset of their review:
The following sentiments, which are represented as the genuine opinions of Philo, or Hume himself, seem to us so important as to
deserve insertion as a specimen of the whole.
For the reviewer, the representative sections of Philo’s views are the first half of Part XII of the Dialogues in which Philo reduces the conflict
between atheism and theism to a verbal dispute. The reviewer concludes that “This reconciliation of these two seemingly most distant opponents, is
of more service to true religion than volumes of divinity….” The reviewer is reflecting the editorial slant of the London Review as a whole, which
tended to be religiously skeptical.
Thomas Hayter made efforts to establish clearly that Philo, and not Cleanthes, speaks for Hume. The introductory comments to his Remarks
focus exclusively on this issue. After quoting Pamphilius’ portrayal of the three characters, Hayter argues,
From this representation one might at first be led to look for Mr. HUME himself under the mask of CLEANTHES, and to expect from the
mouth of CLEANTHES the celebrated Metaphysician’s own sentiments. Let us consider however that Mr. HUME, after the great nominal
superiority attributed to CLEANTHES, could not possibly, without appearance of vanity, have appointed CLEANTHES his representative.
The fact indeed indisputably is, that PHILO, not CLEANTHES, personates Mr. HUME. CLEANTHES assumes at times (p. 242 and 244) the
tone of DEMEA: while PHILO possesses in general the sole exclusive privilege of retailing the purport of Mr. HUME’s former Philosophical
productions. — Every remarkable trait and feature of those productions may be traced in the parts of the Dialogue assigned to PHILO.2
Other critics attempted to expose a deeper concealment on Hume’s part. Joseph Milner in his Gibbon’s account of Christianity considered
argues that Hume is insincere when pronouncing Cleanthes the victor of the debate:
In his dialogues concerning natural religion, we have the substance of all his sceptical essays; and notwithstanding his declaration at the
close in favour of Cleanthes, the natural religionist, it is evident from the whole tenour of the book, and still more so from the entire
scepticism of his former publications, that Philo is his favourite. Sincerity constitutes no part of a philosopher’s virtue.
He continues that Hume’s aim is to “reduce Polytheism, Spinozism, Christianity, and all sorts of views of the divinity to the same level of evidence, or
rather of no evidence; and on the ruin of all, to establish his horrible universal scepticism.”3
Perhaps the most penetrating analysis of Philo was given by John Ogilvie in his Inquiry into the causes of the infidelity and scepticism of the
times. Like his contemporaries, Ogilvie argues that Philo is Hume’s mouthpiece.4 However, Ogilvie charges further that even Philo’s concessions
cannot be taken at face value:
…Philo expresseth, in very strong terms, his belief of a Deity, such as he represents him. He even thanks this Being, or Mind, or
Thought, that atheists are very rare. And, notwithstanding his love of singular argument, he professeth to pay to him profound adoration.
P. 232. But, as Philo’s declarations upon this subject are contradictory, I construct his notions most favourably, when I consider him as
excluding a Deity from the universe.
For Ogilvie, Hume is involved in double concealment. First, he conceals his views behind the veil of the character of Philo. Second, Philo himself is
concealing his true views by making empty concessions toward God’s existence. Ogilvie’s discussion of Philo’s concealment is particularly relevant in
view of the 20th century commentators, noted above, who take Philo’s concessions as sincere.
Ogilvie continues that, for Philo, the options for believing in the creation of the universe are between “a blind nature” or “an Omnipotent
Tyrant, having neither wisdom, justice, goodness, nor any perfection.” Ogilvie argues that it would please us “much better to think that this world
was formed by a fortuitous concourse of atoms… rather than to vie