{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_42843/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_42843","id":"gutenberg_42843","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42843","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Hume, David, 1711-1776","Philosophers -- Great Britain -- Biography"],"text":"Transcriber's Notes: Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been\nleft as in the original. Words in italics in the original are surrounded\nby _underscores_. A row of asterisks represents a thought break. Letters\nsuperscripted in the original are surrounded by {braces}. Ellipses match\nthe original. A complete list of corrections follows the text.\n\nThe original has two different kinds of blockquotes: one uses a smaller\nfont than the main text, and the other has wider margins. In this text,\nthe blockquotes in a smaller font have wider margins, and the other\nblockquotes have two blank lines before and after the quotation. An\nexplanation of the different kinds of quotations can be found at the end\nof the \"ADVERTISEMENT\".\n\nThe Index that was printed at the end of Volume II. of this series has\nbeen included at the end of this Volume for reference purposes.\n\n\n\n\n                           LIFE AND\n\n                      CORRESPONDENCE OF\n\n                         DAVID HUME.\n\n\n              [Illustration: Bust of David Hume]\n\n\n\n\n                             LIFE\n\n                             AND\n\n                        CORRESPONDENCE\n\n                              OF\n\n                         DAVID HUME.\n\n       FROM THE PAPERS BEQUEATHED BY HIS NEPHEW TO THE\n            ROYAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH; AND OTHER\n                      ORIGINAL SOURCES.\n\n\n                  BY JOHN HILL BURTON, ESQ.\n                          ADVOCATE.\n\n\n                          VOLUME I.\n\n\n                          EDINBURGH:\n             WILLIAM TAIT, 107, PRINCE'S STREET.\n                          MDCCCXLVI.\n\n\n\n\n                          EDINBURGH:\n        Printed by WILLIAM TAIT, 107, Prince's Street.\n\n\n\n\n                 TO THE PRESIDENT AND COUNCIL\n\n                              OF\n\n               THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH,\n\n             THIS WORK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED\n\n                              BY\n\n             THEIR MOST OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVANT,\n\n                        J. H. BURTON.\n\n\n\n\nADVERTISEMENT.\n\n\nIn this work, an attempt has been made to connect together a series of\noriginal documents, by a narrative of events in the life of him to whom\nthey relate; an account of his literary labours; and a picture of his\ncharacter, according to the representations of it preserved by his\ncontemporaries. The scantiness of the resources at the command of\nprevious biographers, and the extent and variety of the new materials\nnow presented to the world, render unnecessary any other apology for the\npresent publication. How far these materials have been rightly used,\nreaders and critics must judge; but I may be perhaps excused for\noffering a brief explanation of the spirit in which I desired to\nundertake the task; and the responsibility I felt attached to the duty,\nof ushering before the public, documents of so much importance to\nliterature.\n\nThe critic or biographer, who writes from materials already before the\npublic, may be excused if he give way to his prepossessions and\npartialities, and limit his task to the representation of all that\njustifies and supports them. If he have any misgivings, that, in\nfollowing the direction of his prepossessions, he may not have taken the\nstraight line of truth, he may be assured, that if the cause be one of\nany interest, an advocate, having the same resources at his command,\nwill speedily appear on the other side. But when original manuscripts\nare for the first time to be used, it is due to truth, and to the desire\nof mankind to satisfy themselves about the real characters of great men,\nthat they should be so presented as to afford the means of impartially\nestimating those to whom they relate. We possess many brilliant\nEulogiums of the leaders of our race--many vivid pictures of their\nvirtues and their vices--their greatness or their weakness. But if a\nhumbler, it is perhaps a no less useful task, to represent these\nmen--their character, their conduct, and the circumstances of their\nlife, precisely as they were; rejecting nothing that truly exemplifies\nthem, because it is beneath the dignity of biography, or at variance\nwith received notions of their character and the tendency of their\npublic conduct. The desire to have a closer view of the fountain head\nwhence the outward manifestations of a great intellect have sprung, is\nbut one of the many examples of man's spirit of inquiry from effects to\ntheir causes; and the desire will not be gratified by reproducing the\nobject of inquiry in all the pomp and state of his public intercourse\nwith the world, and keeping the veil still closed upon his inner nature.\nIt is difficult to write with mere descriptive impartiality, and without\nexhibiting any bias of opinion, on matters which are, at the same time,\nthe most deeply interesting to mankind, and the objects of their\nstrongest partialities. Though the task that was before me was simply to\ndescribe, and never to controvert, I do not profess to have avoided all\nindications of opinion in the departments of the work which have the\ncharacter of original authorship. I have the satisfaction, however, of\nreflecting, that the documents, which are the real elements of value in\nthis work, are impartially presented to the reader, and that nothing is\nomitted which seemed to bear distinctly on the character and conduct of\nDavid Hume.\n\nI now offer a few words in explanation of the nature of these original\ndocuments. The late Baron Hume had collected together his uncle's\npapers, consisting of the letters addressed to him, the few drafts or\ncopies he had left of letters written by himself, the letters addressed\n_by_ him to his immediate relations, and apparently all the papers in\nhis handwriting, which had been left in the possession of the members of\nhis family. To these the Baron seems to have been enabled to add the\noriginals of many of the letters addressed by him to his intimate\nfriends, Adam Smith, Blair, Mure, and others. The design with which this\ninteresting collection was made, appears to have been that of preparing\na work of a similar description to the present; and it is a misfortune\nto literature that this design was not accomplished. On the death of\nBaron Hume, it was found that he had left this mass of papers at the\nuncontrolled disposal of the Council of the Royal Society of Edinburgh.\nThis learned body, after having fully considered the course proper to be\nadopted in these circumstances, determined that they would permit the\npapers to be made use of by any person desirous to apply them to a\nlegitimate literary purpose, who might enjoy their confidence. Having\nfor some time indulged in a project of writing a life of Hume, postponed\nfrom time to time, on account of the imperfect character of the\nmaterials at my disposal, I applied to the Council of the Royal Society\nfor access to the Hume papers; and after having considered my\napplication with that deliberation which their duty to the public as\ncustodiers of these documents seemed to require, they acceded to my\nrequest. The ordinary form of returning thanks for the privilege of\nusing papers in the possession of private parties, appears not to be\napplicable to this occasion; and I look on the concession of the Council\nas conferring on me an honour, which is felt to be all the greater, that\nit was bestowed in the conscientious discharge of a public duty.\n\nThe Hume papers, besides a manuscript of the \"Dialogues on Natural\nReligion,\" and of a portion of the History, fill seven quarto volumes of\nvarious thickness, and two thin folios. In having so large a mass of\nprivate and confidential correspondence committed to their charge, the\nCouncil naturally felt that they would be neglecting their duty, if they\ndid not keep in view the possibility that there might be in the\ncollection, allusions to the domestic conduct or private affairs of\npersons whose relations are still living; and that good taste, and a\nkind consideration for private feelings should prevent the accidental\npublication of such passages. On inspection, less of this description of\nmatter was found than so large a mass of private documents might be\nsupposed to contain. There is no passage which I have felt any\ninclination to print, as being likely to afford interest to the reader,\nof which the use has been denied me; and I can therefore say that I have\nhad in all respects full and unlimited access to this valuable\ncollection. Before leaving this matter, I take the opportunity of\nreturning my thanks for the kind and polite attention I have received\nfrom those gentlemen of the Council, on whom the arrangements for my\ngetting access to these papers, imposed no little labour and sacrifice\nof valuable time.\n\nA rumour has obtained currency regarding the contents of these papers,\nwhich seems to demand notice on the present occasion.\n\nIt is stated in _The Quarterly Review_,[xi:1] that \"those who have\nexamined the Hume papers--which we know only by report--speak highly of\ntheir interest, but add, that they furnish painful disclosures\nconcerning the opinions then prevailing amongst the clergy of the\nnorthern metropolis: distinguished ministers of the gospel encouraging\nthe scoffs of their familiar friend, the author of 'the Essay upon\nMiracles;' and echoing the blasphemies of their associate, the author of\nthe 'Essay upon Suicide!'\" I have the pleasing task of removing the\npainful feelings which, as this writer justly observes, must attend the\nbelief in such a rumour, by saying that I could not find it justified\nby a single sentence in the letters of the Scottish clergy contained in\nthese papers, or in any other documents that have passed under my eye. I\nmake this statement as an act of simple justice to the memory of men to\nwhose character, being a member of a different church, I have no\npartisan attachment: and I may add that, in the whole course of my\npretty extensive researches in connexion with Hume and his friends, I\nfound no reason for believing that letters containing evidence of any\nsuch frightful duplicity ever existed.\n\nAmong these papers, a variety of letters, chiefly from eminent\nforeigners, though interesting in themselves, were entitled to no place\nin the body of this work, as illustrative of the life and character of\nHume. These I had intended to print in an appendix, believing that,\nthough not directly connected with my own project, the lovers of\nliterature would not readily excuse me for neglecting the opportunity\nafforded by my access to these papers, for adding to the stock of the\nletters of celebrated men. But the work, according to its original scope\nand design, continuing to increase under my hands, I found that if it\ncontained the documents specially referred to in the text, its bulk\nwould be sufficiently extended, and I have determined to let the other\npapers here alluded to follow in a separate volume, which will contain\nletters to Hume from D'Alembert, Turgot, Diderot, Helv\u00e9tius, Franklin,\nWalpole, and other distinguished persons.\n\nThe reader will find that many original documents printed in this\ncollection have been obtained from other sources than the Hume papers.\nMy acknowledgments are particularly due to the Earl of Minto, for the\nliberality with which he allowed me the uncontrolled use of the large\nand valuable collection of correspondence between Hume and Sir Gilbert\nElliot. For the letters in the Kilravock collection I am indebted to\nCosmo Innes, Esq., sheriff of Morayshire; and I obtained access to those\naddressed to Colonel Edmondstoune, through the polite intervention of\nGeorge Dundas, Esq., sheriff of Selkirkshire. I am obliged to the\nkindness of Lord Murray for much assistance in obtaining materials and\ninformation for this work; and to Robert Chambers, Esq., who has been\naccustomed from time to time, to preserve such letters and other\ndocuments connected with Scottish biography, as came under his notice, I\nhave to offer my thanks for the whole of his collections regarding Hume,\nwhich he generously transferred to me.\n\nIn the use of printed books, where the Advocates' Library, to which I\nhave professional access, has failed me, I have found the facilities for\nconsulting the select and well arranged collection of the Writers to the\nSignet of great service.\n\nI owe acknowledgments to many friends for useful advice in the conduct\nof the work. To one especially, who, after having long occupied a\ndistinguished place in the literature of his country, permits his\nfriends still to enjoy the social exercise of those intellectual\nqualities that have delighted the world, I am indebted for such critical\ncounsel as no other could have given, and few would have had the\nconsiderate kindness to bestow, were they able.\n\nOf the two portraits engraved for this work, that which will, probably,\nmost strikingly attract attention, is taken from a bust, of coarse and\nunartistic workmanship, but bearing all the marks of a genuine likeness.\nIt was moulded by a country artist, at the desire of Hume's esteemed\nfriend, Professor Ferguson; and I am under obligations to his son, Sir\nAdam, for the privilege of using it on this occasion, and to Sir George\nMackenzie, for having kindly mentioned its existence, and exerted\nhimself in its recovery, after it had been long lost sight of. The\nmedallion, from which the other portrait is taken, is in the possession\nof Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq., by whom I was presented with the\nengraved plate, from which the fac simile of a letter, addressed by Hume\nto his collateral ancestor, is printed.\n\n_Edinburgh, February, 1846._\n\n     *.* It may be right to explain, that the two sizes of type,\n     used in this work, were first adopted with the design of\n     presenting all letters addressed to Hume, all extracts, and\n     all letters from him with which the public is already\n     familiar, in the smaller type, in order that the reader coming\n     to a document with which he is already acquainted, might see\n     at once where it ends. This arrangement was accidentally\n     broken through, several letters having been printed in the\n     larger that should have appeared in the smaller type.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[xi:1] No. LXXIII. p. 555.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS OF VOLUME FIRST.\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I.\n\n  Portrait of Hume from a Medallion,                   _Frontispiece_.\n\n  Fac simile of a letter by Hume,                             Page 178\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n1711-1734. \u00c6T. 0-23.\n\n  Birth--Parentage--His own account of his Ancestors--Local\n  associations of Ninewells--Education--Studies--Early\n  Correspondence--The Ramsays--Specimen of his early Writings--\n  Essay on Chivalry--Why he deserted the Law--Early ambition to\n  found a School of Philosophy--Letter to a Physician describing\n  his studies and habits--Criticism on the Letter--Supposition\n  that it was addressed to Dr. Cheyne--Hume goes to Bristol.         1\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n1734-1739. \u00c6T. 23-27.\n\n  Hume leaves Bristol for France--Paris--Miracles at the Tomb of\n  the Abb\u00e9 Paris--Rheims--La Fl\u00eache--Associations with the Abb\u00e9\n  Pluche and Des Cartes--Observations on French Society and\n  Manners --Story of La Roche--Return to Britain--Correspondence\n  with Henry Home--Publication of the first and second volume of\n  the Treatise of Human Nature--Character of that Work--Its\n  influence on Mental Philosophy.                                   48\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n1739-1741. \u00c6T. 27-29.\n\n  Letters to his friends after the publication of the first and\n  second volume of the Treatise--Returns to Scotland--Reception\n  of his Book--Criticism in \"The Works of the Learned\"--Charge\n  against Hume of assaulting the publisher--Correspondence with\n  Francis Hutcheson--Seeks a situation--Connexion with Adam\n  Smith--Publication of the third volume of the Treatise--\n  Account of it--Hume's notes of his reading--Extracts from his\n  Note-books.                                                      105\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n1741-1745. \u00c6T. 30-34.\n\n  Publication of the Essays, Moral and Political--Their\n  Character--Correspondence with Home and Hutcheson--Hume's\n  Remarks on Hutcheson's System--Education and Accomplishments\n  of the Scottish Gentry--Hume's Intercourse with Mure of\n  Caldwell and Oswald of Dunnikier--Opinions on a Sermon by Dr.\n  Leechman--Attempts to succeed Dr. Pringle in the Chair of Moral\n  Philosophy in Edinburgh.                                         136\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n1745-1747. \u00c6T. 34-36.\n\n  Hume's Residence with the Marquis of Annandale--His Predecessor\n  Colonel Forrester--Correspondence with Sir James Johnstone and\n  Mr. Sharp of Hoddam--Quarrel with Captain Vincent--Estimate of\n  his Conduct, and Inquiry into the Circumstances in which he was\n  placed--Appointed Secretary to General St. Clair--Accompanies\n  the expedition against the Court of France as Judge-Advocate--\n  Gives an Account of the Attack on Port L'Orient--A tragic\n  Incident.                                                        170\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n1746-1748. \u00c6T. 35-37.\n\n  Hume returns to Ninewells--His domestic Position--His attempts\n  in Poetry--Inquiry as to his Sentimentalism--Takes an interest\n  in Politics--Appointed Secretary to General St. Clair on his\n  mission to Turin--His journal of his Tour--Arrival in Holland--\n  Rotterdam--The Hague--Breda--The War--French Soldiers--Nimeguen\n  --Cologne--Bonn--The Rhine and its scenery--Coblentz--Wiesbaden\n  --Frankfurt--Battle of Dettingen--Wurzburg--Ratisbon--Descent\n  of the Danube--Observations on Germany--Vienna--The Emperor and\n  Empress Queen--Styria--Carinthia--The Tyrol--Mantua--Cremona--\n  Turin.                                                           225\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n1748-1751. \u00c6T. 37-40.\n\n  Publication of the \"Inquiry concerning Human Understanding\"--\n  Nature of that Work--Doctrine of Necessity--Observations on\n  Miracles--New Edition of the \"Essays, Moral and Political\"--\n  Reception of the new Publications--Return Home--His Mother's\n  Death--Her Talents and Character--Correspondence with Dr.\n  Clephane--Earthquakes--Correspondence with Montesquieu--\n  Practical jokes in connexion with the Westminster Election--\n  John Home--The Bellman's Petition.                               271\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n1751-1752. \u00c6T. 40-41.\n\n  Sir Gilbert Elliot--Hume's intimacy with him--Their Philosophical\n  Correspondence--Dialogues on Natural Religion--Residence in\n  Edinburgh--Jack's Land--Publication of the \"Inquiry concerning\n  the Principles of Morals\"--The Utilitarian Theory--Attempt to\n  obtain the Chair of Moral Philosophy in Glasgow--Competition\n  with Burke--Publication of the \"Political Discourses\"--The\n  foundation of Political Economy--French Translations.            319\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n1752-1755. \u00c6T. 41-44.\n\n  Appointment as keeper of the Advocates' Library--His Duties--\n  Commences the History of England--Correspondence with Adam\n  Smith and others on the History--Generosity to Blacklock\n  the Poet--Quarrel with the Faculty of Advocates--Publication of\n  the First Volume of the History--Its reception--Continues the\n  History--Controversial and Polemical attacks--Attempt to subject\n  him, along with Kames, to the Discipline of Ecclesiastical\n  Courts--The leader of the attack--Home's \"Douglas\"--The first\n  Edinburgh Review.                                                367\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\n  Fragments of a Paper in Hume's handwriting, describing the\n  Descent on the Coast of Brittany, in 1746, and the causes of\n  its failure.                                                     441\n\n  Letters from Montesquieu to Hume,                                456\n\n  ---- the Abb\u00e9 le Blanc to Hume,                                  458\n\n  Documents relating to the Poems of Ossian,                       462\n\n   Essay on the Genuineness of the Poems,                          471\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE\n\nOF\n\nDAVID HUME.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n1711-1734. \u00c6T. 0-23.\n\n     Birth--Parentage--His own account of his Ancestors--Local\n     associations of Ninewells--Education--Studies--Early\n     Correspondence--The Ramsays--Specimen of his early Writings--\n     Essay on Chivalry--Why he deserted the Law--Early ambition to\n     found a School of Philosophy--Letter to a Physician describing\n     his studies and habits--Criticism on the Letter--Supposition\n     that it was addressed to Dr. Cheyne--Hume goes to Bristol.\n\n\nDavid Hume was born at Edinburgh, on the 26th of April,[1:1] 1711. He\nwas the second son of Joseph Hume, or Home, proprietor of the estate of\nNinewells, in the parish of Chirnside, in Berwickshire. His mother was a\ndaughter of Sir David Falconer of Newton, who filled the office of Lord\nPresident of the Court of Session from 1682 to 1685, and is known to\nlawyers as the collector of a series of decisions of the Court of\nSession, published in 1701. His son, the brother of Hume's mother,\nsucceeded to the barony of Halkerton in 1727. Mr. Hume the elder, was a\nmember of the Faculty of Advocates.[1:2] He appears, however, if he\never intended to follow the legal profession as a means of livelihood,\nto have early given up that view, and to have lived, as his eldest son\nJohn afterwards did, the life of a retired country gentleman.\n\nIt is an established rule, that all biographical attempts of\nconsiderable length, shall contain some genealogical inquiry regarding\nthe family of their subject. The present writer is relieved both of the\nlabour of such an investigation, and the responsibility of adjusting it\nto the appropriate bounds, by being able to print a letter in which the\nphilosopher has himself exhibited the results of an inquiry into the\nsubject.\n\n\nDAVID HUME _to_ ALEXANDER HOME _of Whitfield_.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 12th April, 1758._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I was told by Mrs. Home, when she was in town, that you\nintended to make some researches into our family, in order to give them\nto Mr. Douglas, who must insert them, or the substance of them, into his\naccount of the Scottish nobility.[2:1] I think that your purpose is very\nlaudable, and is very obliging to us all; and for this reason I shall\ninform you of what I know of the matter. These hints will at least serve\nto point out to you more authentic documents.\n\n\"My brother has no very ancient charters: the oldest he has, are some\ncharters of the lands of Horndean. There he is designated Home, or Hume,\nof Ninewells. The oldest charters of Ninewells are lost. It was always\na tradition in our family, that we were descended from Lord Home, in\nthis manner. Lord Home gave to his younger son the lands of Tinningham,\nEast Lothian. This gentleman proved a spendthrift and dissipated his\nestate, upon which Lord Home provided his grandchild, or nephew, in the\nlands of Ninewells as a patrimony. This, probably, is the reason why, in\nall the books of heraldry, we are styled to be cadets of Tinningham; and\nTinningham was undoubtedly a cadet of Home. I was told by my grand-aunt,\nMrs. Sinclair of Hermiston, that Charles earl of Home told her, that he\nhad been looking over some old papers of the family, where the Lord Home\ndesigns Home of Ninewells either his grandson or nephew, I do not\nprecisely remember which.\n\n\"The late Sir James Home of Blackadder showed me a paper, which he\nhimself had copied a few days before from a gravestone in the churchyard\nof Hutton: the words were these--'Here lies John Home of Bell, son of\nJohn Home of Ninewells, son of John Home of Tinningham, son of John Lord\nHome, founder of Dunglas.'\n\n\"I find that this Lord Home, founder of Dunglas, was the very person\nwhom Godscroft says went over to France with the Douglas, and was father\nto Tinningham: so thus the two stories tally exactly. He was killed\neither in the battle of Crevant or Verneuil, gained by the Duke of\nBedford, the regent, against the French. Douglas fell in the same\nbattle. I think it was the battle of Verneuil. All the French and\nEnglish histories, as well as the Scotch, contain this fact. This Lord\nHome was your ancestor, and ours, lived in the time of James the First\nand Second of Scotland, Henrys the Fifth and Sixth of England.\n\n\"I have asked old Bell the descent of his family. He said he was really\nsprung from Ninewells, but that the lands fell to an heiress who married\na brother of Polwarth's.\n\n\"By Godscroft's account, Tinningham was the third son of Home in the\nsame generation that Wedderburn was the second, so that the difference\nof antiquity is nothing, or very inconsiderable.\n\n\"The readiest way of vouching these facts would be for you to take a\njaunt to the churchyard of Hutton, and inquire for Bell's monument, and\nsee whether the inscription be not obliterated; for it is above\ntwenty-five years ago that I saw the paper in Sir James Home's hand, and\nhe told us, at that time, that the inscription was somewhat difficult to\nbe read. If it be still legible it would be very well done to take a\ncopy of it in some authentic manner, and transmit it to Mr. Douglas, to\nbe inserted in his volume. If it be utterly effaced, the next, but most\ndifficult task would be to search for the paper above-mentioned in the\nfamily of Home: it must be some time about the year 1440 or 1450. If\nboth these means fail, we must rest upon the tradition.\n\n\"I am not of the opinion of some, that these matters are altogether to\nbe slighted. Though we should pretend to be wiser than our ancestors,\nyet it is arrogant to pretend that we are wiser than the other nations\nof Europe, who, all of them, except perhaps the English, make great\naccount of their family descent. I doubt that our morals have not much\nimproved since we began to think riches the sole thing worth\nregarding.[4:1]\n\n\"If I were in the country I should be glad to attend you to Hutton, in\norder to make the inquiry I propose. I doubt whether my brother will\nthink of doing it: he has such an extreme aversion to every thing that\nsavours of vanity, that he would not willingly expose himself to\ncensure; but this is a justice that one owes to their posterity, for we\nare not certain that these matters will be always so little regarded.\n\n\"I shall farther observe to you, that the Lord Home, founder of Dunglas,\nmarried the heiress of that family, of the name of Pepdie, and from her\nwe always bear the Pepingos in our arms.\n\n\"I find in Hall's Chronicle that the Earl of Surrey, in an inroad upon\nthe Merse, made during the reign of Henry the Eighth, after the battle\nof Flouden, destroyed the castles of Hedderburn, West Nisgate, and\nBlackadder, and the towers of East Nisgate, and Winwalls. The names, you\nsee, are somewhat disfigured; but I cannot doubt but he means Nisbet and\nNinewells: the situation of the places leads us to that conjecture.\n\n\"I have reason to believe, notwithstanding the fact, as Ninewells lay\nvery near Berwick, our ancestors commonly paid contributions to the\ngovernor of that place, and abstained from hostilities and were\nprevented from ravages. There is, in Hayne's State Papers, a very\nparticular account of the ravages committed by an inroad of the English,\nduring the minority of Queen Mary.[6:1] Not a village, scarce a single\nhouse in the Merse, but what is mentioned as burnt or overthrown, till\nyou come to Whitwater. East of the river, there was not one destroyed.\nThis reason will perhaps explain why, in none of the histories of that\ntime, even the more particular, there is any mention made of our\nancestors; while we meet with Wedderburn, Aiton, Manderston,\nCowdenknows, Sprot, and other cadets of Home.\n\n\"I have learned from my mother, that my father, in a lawsuit with\nHilton, claimed an old apprizing upon the lands of Hutton-Hall, upon\nwhich there had been no deed done for 140 years. Hilton thought that it\nmust necessarily be expired; but my father was able to prove that,\nduring that whole time there had not been forty years of majority in the\nfamily. He died soon after, and left my mother very young; so that there\nwas near 160 years during which there was not forty years of\nmajority.[6:2] Now we are upon this subject, I shall just mention to\nyou a trifle, with regard to the spelling of our name. The practice of\nspelling Hume is by far the most ancient and most general till about the\nRestoration, when it became common to spell Home contrary to the\npronunciation. Our name is frequently mentioned in Rymer's Foedera,\nand always spelt Hume. I find a subscription of Lord Hume in the memoirs\nof the Sidney family, where it is spelt as I do at present. These are a\nfew of the numberless authorities on this head.\n\n\"I wish the materials I give you were more numerous and more\nsatisfactory; but such as they are, I am glad to have communicated them\nto you.--I am,\" &c.[7:1]\n\n\nA competent authority in such matters gives the following partly\nheraldic, partly topographical account of the Humes and their\nterritory:--\n\n\"Hume of Ninewells, the family of the great historian, bore 'Vert a lion\nrampant, argent, within a bordure or, charged with _nine wells_, or\nsprings, barry-wavy and argent.'\n\n\"The estate of Ninewells is so named from a cluster of springs of that\nnumber. Their situation is picturesque. They burst forth from a gentle\ndeclivity in front of the mansion, which has on each side a semicircular\nrising bank, covered with fine timber, and fall, after a short time,\ninto the bed of the river Whitewater, which forms a boundary in the\nfront. These springs, as descriptive of their property, were assigned to\nthe Humes of this place, as a difference in arms from the chief of their\nhouse.\"[8:1]\n\nThe scenes amidst which Hume passed his boyhood, and many of the years\nof his later life, have subsequently, in the light of a national\nliterature, become a classic land, visited by strangers, with the same\nfeeling with which Hume himself trod the soil of Mantua. In his own\ndays, the elements of this literature were no less in existence; but it\nwas not part of his mental character to find any pleasing associations\nin spots, remarkable only for the warlike or adventurous achievements\nthey had witnessed. Intellect was the material on which his genius\nworked: with it were all his associations and sympathies; and what had\nnot been adorned by the feats of the mind had no charm in his eye. Had\nhe been a stranger of another land, visiting at the present, or some\nlater day, the scenes of the Lay and of Marmion, they would, without\ndoubt, like the land of Virgil, have lit in his mind some sympathetic\nglow; but the scenes illustrated solely by deeds of barbarous warfare,\nand by a rude illiterate minstrelsy, had nothing in them to rouse a\nmind, which was yet far from being destitute of its own peculiar\nenthusiasm. He had often, in his history, to mention great historical\nevents that had taken place in the immediate vicinity of his paternal\nresidence, and in places to which he could hardly have escaped, if he\ndid not court occasional visits. About six miles from Ninewells, stands\nNorham castle. Three or four miles farther off, are Twisel bridge, where\nSurrey crossed the Till to engage the Scots, and the other localities\nconnected with the battle of Flodden. In the same neighbourhood is\nHoliwell Haugh, where Edward I. met the Scottish nobility, when he\nprofessed himself to be the arbiter of the disputes between Bruce and\nBaliol. In his notices of these spots, in connexion with the historical\nevents which he describes, he betrays no symptom of having passed many\nof his youthful days in their vicinity, but is as cold and general as\nwhen he describes Agincourt or Marston Moor; and it may safely be said,\nthat in none of his historical or philosophical writings does any\nexpression used by him, unless in those cases where a Scoticism has\nescaped his vigilance, betray either the district or the country of his\norigin.[9:1] Hume tells us, in his short autobiography, \"My family was\nnot rich, and being myself a younger brother, my patrimony, according to\nthe mode of my country, was of course very slender. My father, who\npassed for a man of parts, died when I was an infant, leaving me, with\nan elder brother and a sister, under the care of our mother, a woman of\nsingular merit, who, though young and handsome, devoted herself entirely\nto the rearing and education of her children.\" He says no more of his\neducation, than that he \"passed through the ordinary course of education\nwith success.\" In a document which will be immediately quoted at length,\nwe find him speaking of having received the usual college education of\nScotland, which terminates when the student is fourteen or fifteen years\nold. It is probable that he studied at the University of Edinburgh, in\nthe matriculation book of which the name of \"David Home\" appears, as\nintrant of the class of William Scott, Professor of Greek, on 27th\nFebruary, 1723. Holding the year to commence on 1st January, which was\nthen the practice in Scotland, though not in England, he would be at\nthat time nearly twelve years old. The name does not appear in any of\nthe subsequent matriculation lists: it was probably not then the\npractice for the student to be entered more than once, at the\ncommencement of his curriculum; and neither the name of Hume, nor of\nHome, occurs in the list of graduates.\n\nOf his method of studying, and of his habits of life, after he left the\nuniversity, as of his literary aspirations and projects, we fortunately\npossess some curious notices in his correspondence. The earliest letter\nwritten by Hume, known to be extant, is in a scroll which has been\napparently preserved by himself. It is addressed to Michael Ramsay, with\nwhom it will be seen, from the letters quoted in the course of this\nwork, that the friendship formed, when both were young, remained\nuninterrupted and vigorous during their mature years. I have been unable\nto discover any thing of the history of this Michael Ramsay, beyond what\nmay be gathered from the internal evidence supplied by the\ncorrespondence. He must have been destined for the English Church, but\nhe appears not to have taken orders; as in a letter from Hume, which,\nthough undated, must have been written at an advanced period of both\ntheir lives, he is addressed \"Michael Ramsay, Esq.\" Writing on 5th June,\n1764, he says to Hume, \"I continue in the old wandering way in which I\nhave passed so much of my life, and in which it is likely I shall end\nit.\" He appears to have had many connexions well to do in the world, and\nto have died before the year 1779, leaving his papers in the possession\nof a nephew having his own Christian name of Michael; which was also, it\nmay be observed, the name of the Chevalier Ramsay, of whom Hume's\ncorrespondent was perhaps a relation.[12:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ MICHAEL RAMSAY.\n\n\"_July 4, 1727._\n\n\"D{R} M.--I received all the books you writ of, and your Milton among\nthe rest. When I saw it, I perceived there was a difference betwixt\npreaching and practising: you accuse me of niceness, and yet practise it\nmost egregiously yourself. What was the necessity of sending your\nMilton, which I knew you were so fond of? Why, I lent your's and can't\nget it. But would you not, in the same manner, have lent your own? Yes.\nThen, why this ceremony and good breeding? I write all this to show you\nhow easily any action may be brought to bear the countenance of a fault.\nYou may justify yourself very well, by saying it was kindness; and I am\nsatisfied with it, and thank you for it. So, in the same manner, I may\njustify myself from your reproofs. You say that I would not send in my\npapers, because they were not polished nor brought to any form: which\nyou say is nicety. But was it not reasonable? Would you have me send in\nmy loose incorrect thoughts? Were such worth the transcribing? All the\nprogress that I made is but drawing the outlines, on loose bits of\npaper: here a hint of a passion; there a phenomenon in the mind\naccounted for: in another the alteration of these accounts; sometimes a\nremark upon an author I have been reading; and none of them worth to any\nbody, and I believe scarce to myself. The only design I had of\nmentioning any of them at all, was to see what you would have said of\nyour own, whether they were of the same kind, and if you would send any;\nand I have got my end, for you have given a most satisfactory reason for\nnot communicating them, by promising they shall be told _viv\u00e2 voce_--a\nmuch better way indeed, and in which I promise myself much satisfaction;\nfor the free conversation of a friend is what I would prefer to any\nentertainment. Just now I am entirely confined to myself and library for\ndiversion since we parted.\n\n               ----ea sola voluptus,\n     Solamenque mali--[14:1]\n\nAnd indeed to me they are not a small one: for I take no more of them\nthan I please; for I hate task-reading, and I diversify them at\npleasure--sometimes a philosopher, sometimes a poet--which change is not\nunpleasant nor disserviceable neither; for what will more surely engrave\nupon my mind a Tusculan disputation of Cicero's De \u00c6gritudine Lenienda,\nthan an eclogue or georgick of Virgil's? The philosopher's wise man and\nthe poet's husbandman agree in peace of mind, in a liberty and\nindependency on fortune, and contempt of riches, power, and glory. Every\nthing is placid and quiet in both: nothing perturbed or disordered.\n\n     At secura quies, et nescia fallere vita----\n     Spelunc\u00e6, vivique laci; at frigida Tempe,\n     Mugitusque boum, mollesque sub arbore somnos\n     Non absint.[14:2]\n\n\"These lines will, in my opinion, come nothing short of the instruction\nof the finest sentence in Cicero: and is more to me, as Virgil's life is\nmore the subject of my ambition, being what I can apprehend to be more\nwithin my power. For the perfectly wise man, that outbraves fortune, is\nsurely greater than the husbandman who slips by her; and, indeed, this\npastoral and saturnian happiness I have in a great measure come at just\nnow. I live like a king, pretty much by myself, neither full of action\nnor perturbation,--_molles somnos_. This state, however, I can foresee\nis not to be relied on. My peace of mind is not sufficiently confirmed\nby philosophy to withstand the blows of fortune. This greatness and\nelevation of soul is to be found only in study and contemplation--this\ncan alone teach us to look down on human accidents. You must allow [me]\nto talk thus, like a philosopher: 'tis a subject I think much on, and\ncould talk all day long of. But I know I must not trouble you. Wherefore\nI wisely practise my rules, which prescribe to check our appetite; and,\nfor a mortification, shall descend from these superior regions to low\nand ordinary life; and so far as to tell you, that John has bought a\nhorse: he thinks it neither cheap nor dear. It cost six guineas, but\nwill be sold cheaper against winter, which he is not resolved on as yet.\nIt has no fault, but bogles a little. It is tolerably well favoured, and\npaces naturally. Mamma bids me tell you, that Sir John Home is not going\nto town; but he saw Eccles in the country, who says he will do nothing\nin that affair, for he is only taking off old adjudications, so it is\nneedless to let him see the papers. He desires you would trouble\nyourself to inquire about the Earle's affairs, and advise us what to do\nin this affair.\n\n\"If it were not breaking the formal rule of connexions I have prescribed\nmyself in this letter--and it did not seem unnatural to raise myself\nfrom so low affairs as horses and papers, to so high and elevate things\nas books and study--I would tell you that I read some of Longinus\nalready, and that I am mightily delighted with him. I think he does\nreally answer the character of being the great sublime he describes. He\ndelivers his precepts with such force, as if he were enchanted with the\nsubject; and is himself an author that may be cited for an example to\nhis own rules, by any one who shall be so adventurous as to write upon\nhis subject.\"[16:1]\n\n\nThis is certainly a remarkable letter to have been written by a youth\nlittle more than sixteen years old. If it had been written by one less\ndistinguished by the originality of his mature intellect, it might be\nlooked upon as one of those illustrations of the faculty of imitation,\nfor which some young persons display peculiar powers; but its grave and\nhigh-toned philosophical feeling is evidently no echo of other people's\nwords, but the deeply felt sentiments of the writer. In some measure,\nperhaps, he deceived himself in believing that he had attuned his mind\nto pastoral simplicity, and had weeded it of all ambitious longings. If\nhe had a sympathy with Virgil, it was not, as he has represented, with\nthe poet's ideas of life, but with his realizations of it; not with the\nquiet sphere of a retired and unnoticed existence, but with the lustre\nof a well-earned fame. Through the whole, indeed, of the memorials of\nHume's early feelings, we find the traces of a bold and far-stretching\nliterary ambition; and though he believed that he had seared his mind to\nordinary human influences, it was because this one had become so\nengrossing as to overwhelm all others. \"I was seized very early,\" he\ntells us, in his 'own life,' \"with a passion for literature, which has\nbeen the ruling passion of my life, and a great source of my\nenjoyments.\" Joined to this impulse, we find a practical philosophy\npartaking far more of the stoical than of that sceptical school with\nwhich his metaphysical writings have identified him; a morality of\nself-sacrifice and endurance, for the accomplishment of great ends. In\nwhatever light we may view his speculative opinions, we gather from the\nhabits of his life, and from the indications we possess of his passing\nthoughts, that he devotedly acted up to the principle, that his genius\nand power of application should be laid out with the greatest prospect\nof permanent advantage to mankind. He was an economist of all his\ntalents from early youth: no memoir of a literary man presents a more\ncautious and vigilant husbandry of the mental powers and acquirements.\nThere is no instance of a man of genius who has wasted less in idleness\nor in unavailing pursuits. Money was not his object, nor was temporary\nfame; though, of the means of independent livelihood, and a good repute\namong men, he never lost sight: but his ruling object of ambition,\npursued in poverty and riches, in health and sickness, in laborious\nobscurity and amidst the blaze of fame, was to establish a permanent\nname, resting on the foundation of literary achievements, likely to live\nas long as human thought endured, and mental philosophy was studied.\n\nThere is among Hume's papers a fragment of \"An Historical Essay on\nChivalry and Modern Honour.\" It is evidently a clean copy from a\ncorrected scrawl, written with great precision and neatness, and no\ndespicable specimen of caligraphy. From the pains that appear to have\nbeen bestowed on the penmanship, and from many rhetorical defects and\nblemishes which do not appear in any of his published works, it may be\ninferred that this is a production of very early years, and properly\napplicable to this period of his life; although its matured thought, and\nclear systematic analysis, might, in other circumstances, have indicated\nit as the fruit of a mind long and carefully cultivated. It is scarcely\nnecessary to frame an excuse for quoting such a document on the present\noccasion. It could not be legitimately incorporated with his works;\nbecause, whatever is given to the public in that shape, is presumed to\nconsist of those productions which the author himself, or those entitled\nto represent him, have thought fit to lay before the public, as the\nefforts by which the full stretch and compass of his intellectual powers\nare to be tested. From such collections, the editor who performs his\nfunctions with a kind and respectful consideration for the reputation of\nthe illustrious dead, will exclude whatever is characterized by the\ncrudeness of youth, or the feebleness of superannuation. To the\nreputation of Hume it would be peculiarly unjust to publish among his\nacknowledged and printed works, any productions of extreme youth;\nbecause, from his earliest years to an advanced period of his life, his\nmind was characterized by constant improvement, and he was every now and\nthen reaching a point from which he looked back with regret and\ndisapprobation at the efforts of earlier years.\n\nBut in a biographical work, where the chief object is the tracing the\nhistory of the author's mind, not the representation of its matured\nefforts, these early specimens of budding genius have their legitimate\nplace, and receive that charitable consideration for the circumstances\nin which they were written, which their author's reputation demands.\n\nThe essay commences with a sketch of the decline of virtue, and the\nprevalence of luxury among the Romans; and describes their possession of\nthe arts which they had learned in their better days, when not seconded\nby bravery and enterprise, as furnishing, like the fine clothes of a\nsoldier, a temptation to hostile cupidity. He then represents the\nconquerors adapting themselves, after the manner peculiar to their own\nbarbarous state, to the habits and ideas of the civilized people whom\nthey had subdued. He represents the conquered people as sunk in\nindolence, but imperfectly preserving the arts and elegancies\ntransmitted to them by their ancestors; and the conquerors full of\nenergy and activity, as the sources of whatever impulse was thereafter\ngiven to thought or action. They \"came with freshness and alacrity to\nthe business; and being encouraged both by the novelty of these subjects\nand by the success of their arms, would naturally ingraft some new kind\nof fruit on the ancient stock.\" He then proceeds with the following\ntrain of reflections:--\n\n\n\"'Tis observable of the human mind, that when it is smit with any idea\nof merit or perfection beyond what its faculties can attain, and in the\npursuit of which it uses not reason and experience for its guide, it\nknows no mean, but as it gives the rein, and even adds the spur, to\nevery florid conceit or fancy, runs in a moment quite wide of nature.\nThus we find, when, without discretion, it indulges its devote terrors,\nthat working in such fairy-ground, it quickly buries itself in its own\nwhimsies and chimeras, and raises up to itself a new set of passions,\naffections, desires, objects, and, in short, a perfectly new world of\nits own, inhabited by different beings, and regulated by different laws\nfrom this of ours. In this new world 'tis so possessed that it can\nendure no interruption from the old; but as nature is apt still on every\noccasion to recall it thither, it must undermine it by art, and retiring\naltogether from the commerce of mankind, if it be so bent upon its\nreligious exercise, from the mystic, by an easy transition, degenerate\ninto the hermite. The same thing is observable in philosophy, which\nthough it cannot produce a different world in which we may wander, makes\nus act in this as if we were different beings from the rest of mankind;\nat least makes us frame to ourselves, though we cannot execute them,\nrules of conduct different from those which are set to us by nature. No\nengine can supply the place of wings, and make us fly, though the\nimagination of such a one may make us stretch and strain and elevate\nourselves upon our tiptoes. And in this case of an imagined merit, the\nfarther our chimeras hurry us from nature, and the practice of the\nworld, the better pleased we are, as valuing ourselves upon the\nsingularity of our notions, and thinking we depart from the rest of\nmankind only by flying above them. Where there is none we excel, we are\napt to think we have no excellency; and self-conceit makes us take every\nsingularity for an excellency.\n\n\"When, therefore, these barbarians came first to the relish of some\ndegree of virtue and politeness beyond what they had ever before been\nacquainted with, their minds would necessarily stretch themselves into\nsome vast conceptions of things, which, not being corrected by\nsufficient judgment and experience, must be empty and unsolid. Those who\nhad first bred these conceptions in them could not assist them in their\nbirth, as the Grecians did the Romans; but being themselves scarce half\ncivilized, would be rather apt to entertain any extravagant misshapen\nconceit of their conquerors, than able to lick it into any form. 'Twas\nthus that that monster of romantic chivalry, or knight-errantry, by the\nnecessary operation of the principles of human nature, was brought into\nthe world; and it is remarkable that it descended from the Moors and\nArabians, who, learning somewhat of the Roman civility from the province\nthey conquered, and being themselves a southern people, which are\ncommonly observed to be more quick and inventive than the northern, were\nthe first who fell upon this vein of achievement. When it was once\nbroken upon it ran like wild-fire over all the nations of Europe, who,\nbeing in the same situation with these nations, kindled with the least\nspark.\n\n\"What kind of monstrous birth this of chivalry must prove, we may learn\nfrom considering the different revolutions in the arts, particularly in\narchitecture, and comparing the Gothic with the Grecian models of it.\nThe one are plain, simple, and regular, but withal majestic and\nbeautiful, which when these barbarians unskilfully imitated, they ran\ninto a wild profusion of ornaments, and by their rude embellishments\ndeparted far from nature and a just simplicity. They were struck with\nthe beauties of the ancient buildings; but, ignorant how to preserve a\njust mean, and giving an unbounded liberty to their fancy in heaping\nornament upon ornament, they made the whole a heap of confusion and\nirregularity. For the same reason, when they would rear up a new scheme\nof manners, or heroism, it must be strangely overcharged with ornaments,\nand no part exempt from their unskilful refinements; and this we find to\nhave been actually the case, as may be proven by running over the\nseveral parts of it.\"\n\n\nHe then inquires into the reason, why courage is the principal virtue of\nbarbarous nations, and why they esteem deeds of heroism, however useless\nor mischievous, as far more meritorious than useful efforts of\ngovernment or internal organization. He contrasts the heroism of the\nbarbarous periods of the ancient world, with those of the dark ages of\nmodern Europe; and finding the former selfish and aggrandizing, while\nthe latter is characterized by the more generous features of chivalry,\nhe thus accounts for this characteristic.\n\n\n\"The method by which these courteous knights acquired this extreme\ncivility of theirs, was by mixing love with their courage. Love is a\nvery generous passion, and well fitted both to that humanity and\ncourage they would reconcile. The only one that can contest with it is\nfriendship, which, besides that it is too refined a passion for common\nuse, is not by many degrees so natural as love, to which almost every\none has a great propensity, and which it is impossible to see a\nbeautiful woman, without feeling some touches of. Besides, as love is a\ncapricious passion, it is the more susceptible of these fantastic forms,\nwhich it must take when it mixes with chivalry. Friendship is a solid\nand serious thing, and, like the love of their country in the Roman\nheroes, would dispel and put to flight all the chimeras, inseparable\nfrom this spirit of adventure. So that a mistress is as necessary to a\ncavalier or knight-errant, as a god or saint to a devotee. Nor would he\nstop here, or be contented with a submiss reverence and adoration to one\nof the sex, but would extend in some degree the same civility to the\nwhole, and by a curious reversement of the order of nature, make them\nthe superior. This is no more than what is suitable to that infinite\ngenerosity of which he makes profession. Every thing below him he treats\nwith submission, and every thing above him, with contumacy. Thus he\ncarries these double symptoms of generosity which Virgil makes mention\nof into extravagance.\n\n     Parcere subjectis et debellare superbos.\n\nHence arises the knight-errant's strong and irreconcileable aversion to\nall giants, with his most humble and respectful submission to all\ndamsels. These two affections of his, he unites in all his adventures,\nwhich are always designed to relieve distressed damsels from the\ncaptivity and violence of giants.\n\n\"As a cavalier is composed of the greatest warmth of love, tempered with\nthe most humble submission and respect, his mistress's behaviour is in\nevery point the reverse of this; and what is conspicuous in her temper\nis the utmost coldness along with the greatest haughtiness and disdain;\nuntil at last, gratitude for the many deliverances she has met with, and\nthe giants and monsters without number that he has destroyed for her\nsake, reduces her, though unwilling, to the necessity of commencing a\nbride. Here the chastity of women, which, from the necessity of human\naffairs, has been in all ages and countries an extravagant point of\nhonour with them, is run into still greater extravagance, that none of\nthe sexes may be exempt from this fantastic ornament.\n\n\"Such were the notions of bravery in that age, and such the fictions by\nwhich they formed models of it. The effects these had on their ordinary\nlife and conversation was, first, an extravagant gallantry and adoration\nof the whole female sex, and romantic notions of extraordinary\nconstancy, fidelity, and refined passion for one mistress. Secondly, the\nintroduction of the practice of single combat. How naturally this sprung\nup from chivalry may easily be understood. A knight-errant fights, not\nlike another man full of passion and resentment, but with the utmost\ncivility mixed with his undaunted courage. He salutes you before he cuts\nyour throat; and a plain man, who understood nothing of the mystery,\nwould take him for a treacherous ruffian, and think that, like Judas, he\nwas betraying with a kiss, while he is showing his generous calmness and\namicable courage. In consequence of this, every thing is performed with\nthe greatest ceremony and order; and whenever either chance or his\nsuperior bravery make either of them victorious, he generously gives his\nantagonist his life, and again embraces him as his friend. When these\nfantastic practices have come in use, the amazed world, who, merely\nbecause there is nothing real in all this, must certainly imagine there\nis a great deal, could not but look upon such a courteous enmity as the\nmost heroic and sublime thing in nature; and instead of punishing any\nmurder that might ensue, as the law directs in such cases, would praise\nand applaud the murderer.\"[25:1]\n\n\nPerhaps the reader of these passages will have come to the conclusion\nthat the powers of reason displayed in them are as bold and original as\nthe imagination is meagre and servile. The reflections on Gothic\narchitecture are the commonplace opinions of the day, uttered by one who\nwas singularly destitute of sympathy with the human intellect, in its\nearly efforts to resolve itself into symmetry and elegance; whose mind\nshrunk from the contemplation of any work of man that did not bear the\nstamp of high intellectual culture. The same want of sympathy with man\nin his rude and grand, though inharmonious efforts, here attends both\nthe chivalric manners and the solemn architecture of the dark ages. Of\nthe former, he has made a cold, clear, unsympathizing, perhaps accurate\nestimate. The latter, unless a large proportion of the architectural\nenthusiasts of the present day have raised the taste of the age upon\nfalse foundations, he utterly misappreciated.\n\nIt must have been about his seventeenth year that Hume commenced, and\nabruptly relinquished the practical study of the law,--a curious episode\nin his history, which he thus describes in his \"own life:\" \"My studious\ndisposition, my sobriety, and my industry, gave my family a notion that\nthe law was a proper profession for me; but I found an insurmountable\naversion to every thing but the pursuits of philosophy and general\nlearning; and while they fancied I was poring upon Voet and Vinnius,\nCicero and Virgil were the authors which I was secretly devouring.\"\n\nBut this by no means gives the reader a full and faithful impression of\nhis motives. The passage calls up the vision of a contemplative, gentle,\nunambitious youth, shrinking from the arid labours that lead to wealth\nand distinction, and content to dream away his life in obscurity with\nthe companionship of his favourite books. The document already referred\nto, and immediately to be quoted, shows that far other thoughts were in\nhis mind; that he did not shrink from the professional labours of the\nbar, to sink into studious ease, but rejected them to encounter higher\nand more arduous toils--that he did not drop passively from the path of\nambition opened to him, but deserted it for a higher and more\nadventurous course. He had indeed already before him the prospect of\nbeing a discoverer in philosophy, and his mind, crowded with the images\nof his new system, could see nothing else in life worthy of pursuit.\n\nWithout this clue, Hume's aversion to the study of the law would have\nbeen a problem not to be easily solved. Had he lived in the present day,\nwhen the mass of statute and precedent that have accumulated even within\nthe narrow domain of Scottish law, have completely precluded those\nluxurious digressions into the field of speculation and theory, which\ncharacterized the legal practice of our ancestors, one might readily\ncomprehend the aversion of his fastidiously cultivated logical mind to\nsuch hard and coarse materials. But a lawyer's library, in his days,\nconsisted of the classics, the philosophers of mind, and the civilians.\nThe advocate often commenced his pleadings with a quotation from the\nyoung philosopher's favourite poet Virgil, and then digressed into a\nspeculative inquiry into the general principles of law and government:\nthe philosophical genius of Themis long soaring sublime, until at last,\nfolding her wings, she rested on some vulgar question about dry multures\nor an irritancy of a tailzie, to the settlement of which the wide\nprinciples so announced were applied. Surely that science, within the\nboundaries of which the speculative spirit of Lord Kames had room for\nits flights, could not have been rejected on the ground that it cramped\nand restrained the faculty of generalizing.[28:1] Yet in a letter to\nSmith, of 12th April, 1759, which shows that Hume retained his antipathy\nto the study to an advanced period of his life, he says, \"I am afraid of\nKames' Law Tracts. A man might as well think of making a fine sauce by a\nmixture of wormwood and aloes, as an agreeable composition by joining\nmetaphysics and Scottish law. However, the book I believe has merit,\nthough few people will take the pains of inquiring into it.\"\n\nIn truth there appear to have been in Hume all the elements of which a\ngood lawyer is made: clearness of judgment, power of rapidly acquiring\nknowledge, untiring industry, and dialectic skill; and, if his mind had\nnot been preoccupied, he might have fallen into that gulf in which many\nof the world's greatest geniuses lie buried--professional eminence, and\nmight have left behind him a reputation limited to the traditional\nrecollections of the Parliament House, or associated with important\ndecisions. He was through life an able, clear-headed man of business,\nand I have seen several legal documents written in his own hand and\nevidently drawn by himself. They stand the test of general professional\nobservation; and their writer, by preparing documents of such a\ncharacter on his own responsibility, showed that he had considerable\nconfidence in his ability to adhere to the forms adequate for the\noccasion. He talks of it as \"an ancient prejudice industriously\npropagated by the dunces in all countries, that _a man of genius is\nunfit for business_;\"[29:1] and he showed, in his general conduct\nthrough life, that he did not choose to come voluntarily under this\nproscription.\n\nHis writings, however, bear but slight traces of his juridical studies.\nIn analysing the foundations of our notions of property, he criticises\nsome of the subtleties of the early civilians, but shows no more\nintimate acquaintance with their works than any well-informed scholar of\nthe day might be supposed to exhibit. He shows no pleasure in dwelling\non matters connected with this study, but rather appears disposed to\nrelease himself and his reader from a subject so little congenial to his\ntaste. The particular law of Scotland is one of those subjects to which\nhe would be careful to avoid a reference, as carrying with it that tone\nof provincial thought and education which he was always anxious to\navoid. It may be perhaps an unfortunate result of this early prejudice\nagainst the study of jurisprudence, that in after life he failed to\nacquire that knowledge of the progress of the law of England, which\nwould have made his history much less amenable than it has been to\ncensorious criticism.\n\nIt is now time that the reader should be possessed of the document above\nalluded to, as throwing much light on Hume's early studies and habits of\nlife; and it is here presented, without any introductory explanation, as\nit first appeared to me in going through the papers in the possession of\nthe Royal Society.\n\n\n_A Letter to a Physician._\n\n\"SIR,--Not being acquainted with this handwriting, you will probably\nlook to the bottom to find the subscription, and not finding any, will\ncertainly wonder at this strange method of addressing to you. I must\nhere in the beginning beg you to excuse it, and, to persuade you to read\nwhat follows with some attention, must tell you, that this gives you an\nopportunity to do a very good-natured action, which I believe is the\nmost powerful argument I can use. I need not tell you, that I am your\ncountryman, a Scotsman; for without any such tie, I dare rely upon your\nhumanity even to a perfect stranger, such as I am. The favour I beg of\nyou is your advice, and the reason why I address myself in particular to\nyou, need not be told,--as one must be a skilful physician, a man of\nletters, of wit, of good sense, and of great humanity, to give me a\nsatisfying answer. I wish fame had pointed out to me more persons, in\nwhom these qualities are united, in order to have kept me some time in\nsuspense. This I say in the sincerity of my heart, and without any\nintention of making a compliment; for though it may seem necessary,\nthat, in the beginning of so unusual a letter, I should say some fine\nthings, to bespeak your good opinion, and remove any prejudices you may\nconceive at it, yet such an endeavour to be witty, would ill suit with\nthe present condition of my mind; which, I must confess, is not without\nanxiety concerning the judgment you will form of me. Trusting, however,\nto your candour and generosity, I shall, without further preface,\nproceed to open up to you the present condition of my health, and to do\nthat the more effectually, shall give you a kind of history of my life,\nafter which you will easily learn why I keep my name a secret.\n\n\"You must know then that, from my earliest infancy, I found always a\nstrong inclination to books and letters. As our college education in\nScotland, extending little further than the languages, ends commonly\nwhen we are about fourteen or fifteen years of age, I was after that\nleft to my own choice in my reading, and found it incline me almost\nequally to books of reasoning and philosophy, and to poetry and the\npolite authors. Every one who is acquainted either with the philosophers\nor critics, knows that there is nothing yet established in either of\nthese two sciences, and that they contain little more than endless\ndisputes, even in the most fundamental articles. Upon examination of\nthese, I found a certain boldness of temper growing in me, which was not\ninclined to submit to any authority in these subjects, but led me to\nseek out some new medium, by which truth might be established. After\nmuch study and reflection on this, at last, when I was about eighteen\nyears of age, there seemed to be opened up to me a new scene of thought,\nwhich transported me beyond measure, and made me, with an ardour natural\nto young men, throw up every other pleasure or business to apply\nentirely to it. The law, which was the business I designed to follow,\nappeared nauseous to me, and I could think of no other way of pushing my\nfortune in the world, but that of a scholar and philosopher. I was\ninfinitely happy in this course of life for some months; till at last,\nabout the beginning of September, 1729, all my ardour seemed in a moment\nto be extinguished, and I could no longer raise my mind to that pitch,\nwhich formerly gave me such excessive pleasure. I felt no uneasiness or\nwant of spirits, when I laid aside my book; and therefore never imagined\nthere was any bodily distemper in the case, but that my coldness\nproceeded from a laziness of temper, which must be overcome by\nredoubling my application. In this condition I remained for nine months,\nvery uneasy to myself, as you may well imagine, but without growing any\nworse, which was a miracle. There was another particular, which\ncontributed, more than any thing, to waste my spirits and bring on me\nthis distemper, which was, that having read many books of morality, such\nas Cicero, Seneca, and Plutarch, and being smit with their beautiful\nrepresentations of virtue and philosophy, I undertook the improvement of\nmy temper and will, along with my reason and understanding. I was\ncontinually fortifying myself with reflections against death, and\npoverty, and shame, and pain, and all the other calamities of life.\nThese no doubt are exceeding useful, when joined with an active life,\nbecause the occasion being presented along with the reflection, works it\ninto the soul, and makes it take a deep impression; but in solitude they\nserve to little other purpose, than to waste the spirits, the force of\nthe mind meeting with no resistance, but wasting itself in the air, like\nour arm when it misses its aim. This, however, I did not learn but by\nexperience, and till I had already ruined my health, though I was not\nsensible of it. Some scurvy spots broke out on my fingers the first\nwinter I fell ill, about which I consulted a very knowing physician, who\ngave me some medicine that removed these symptoms, and at the same time\ngave me a warning against the vapours, which, though I was labouring\nunder at that time, I fancied myself so far removed from, and indeed\nfrom any other disease, except a slight scurvy, that I despised his\nwarning. At last, about April 1730, when I was nineteen years of age, a\nsymptom, which I had noticed a little from the beginning, increased\nconsiderably; so that, though it was no uneasiness, the novelty of it\nmade me ask advice; it was what they call a ptyalism or wateryness in\nthe mouth. Upon my mentioning it to my physician, he laughed at me, and\ntold me I was now a brother, for that I had fairly got the disease of\nthe learned. Of this he found great difficulty to persuade me, finding\nin myself nothing of that lowness of spirit, which those who labour\nunder that distemper so much complain of. However upon his advice I went\nunder a course of bitters, and anti-hysteric pills, drank an English\npint of claret wine every day, and rode eight or ten Scotch miles. This\nI continued for about seven months after.\n\n\"Though I was sorry to find myself engaged with so tedious a distemper,\nyet the knowledge of it set me very much at ease, by satisfying me that\nmy former coldness proceeded not from any defect of temper or genius,\nbut from a disease to which any one may be subject. I now began to take\nsome indulgence to myself; studied moderately, and only when I found my\nspirits at their highest pitch, leaving off before I was weary, and\ntrifling away the rest of my time in the best manner I could. In this\nway, I lived with satisfaction enough; and on my return to town next\nwinter found my spirits very much recruited, so that, though they sank\nunder me in the higher flights of genius, yet I was able to make\nconsiderable progress in my former designs. I was very regular in my\ndiet and way of life from the beginning, and all that winter made it a\nconstant rule to ride twice or thrice a-week, and walk every day. For\nthese reasons, I expected, when I returned to the country, and could\nrenew my exercise with less interruption, that I would perfectly\nrecover. But in this I was much mistaken; for next summer, about May\n1731, there grew upon me a very ravenous appetite, and as quick a\ndigestion, which I at first took for a good symptom, and was very much\nsurprised to find it bring back a palpitation of heart, which I had felt\nvery little of before. This appetite, however, had an effect very\nunusual, which was to nourish me extremely; so that in six weeks' time,\nI passed from the one extreme to the other; and being before tall, lean,\nand raw-boned, became on a sudden the most sturdy, robust,\nhealthful-like fellow you have seen, with a ruddy complexion and a\ncheerful countenance. In excuse for my riding, and care of my health, I\nalways said that I was afraid of consumption, which was readily believed\nfrom my looks, but now every body congratulated me upon my thorough\nrecovery. This unnatural appetite wore off by degrees, but left me as a\nlegacy the same palpitation of the heart in a small degree, and a good\ndeal of wind in my stomach, which comes away easily, and without any bad\n_go\u00fbt_, as is ordinary. However, these symptoms are little or no\nuneasiness to me. I eat well; I sleep well; have no lowness of spirits,\nat least never more than what one of the best health may feel from too\nfull a meal, from sitting too near a fire, and even that degree I feel\nvery seldom, and never almost in the morning or forenoon. Those who live\nin the same family with me, and see me at all times, cannot observe the\nleast alteration in my humour, and rather think me a better companion\nthan I was before, as choosing to pass more of my time with them. This\ngave me such hopes, that I scarce ever missed a day's riding, except in\nthe winter time; and last summer undertook a very laborious task, which\nwas to travel eight miles every morning, and as many in the forenoon, to\nand from a mineral well of some reputation. I renewed the bitter and\nanti-hysteric pills twice, along with anti-scorbutic juice, last\nspring, but without any considerable effect, except abating the symptoms\nfor a little time.\n\n\"Thus I have given you a full account of the condition of my body; and\nwithout staying to ask pardon, as I ought to do, for so tedious a story,\nshall explain to you how my mind stood all this time, which on every\noccasion, especially in this distemper, have a very near connexion\ntogether. Having now time and leisure to cool my inflamed imagination, I\nbegan to consider seriously how I should proceed in my philosophical\ninquiries. I found that the moral philosophy transmitted to us by\nantiquity laboured under the same inconvenience that has been found in\ntheir natural philosophy, of being entirely hypothetical, and depending\nmore upon invention than experience: every one consulted his fancy in\nerecting schemes of virtue and of happiness, without regarding human\nnature, upon which every moral conclusion must depend. This, therefore,\nI resolved to make my principal study, and the source from which I would\nderive every truth in criticism as well as morality. I believe it is a\ncertain fact, that most of the philosophers who have gone before us,\nhave been overthrown by the greatness of their genius, and that little\nmore is required to make a man succeed in this study, than to throw off\nall prejudices either for his own opinions or for those of others. At\nleast this is all I have to depend on for the truth of my reasonings,\nwhich I have multiplied to such a degree, that within these three years,\nI find I have scribbled many a quire of paper, in which there is nothing\ncontained but my own inventions. This, with the reading most of the\ncelebrated books in Latin, French, and English, and acquiring the\nItalian, you may think a sufficient business for one in perfect health,\nand so it would had it been done to any purpose; but my disease was a\ncruel encumbrance on me. I found that I was not able to follow out any\ntrain of thought, by one continued stretch of view, but by repeated\ninterruptions, and by refreshing my eye from time to time upon other\nobjects. Yet with this inconvenience I have collected the rude materials\nfor many volumes; but in reducing these to words, when one must bring\nthe idea he comprehended in gross, nearer to him, so as to contemplate\nits minutest parts, and keep it steadily in his eye, so as to copy these\nparts in order,--this I found impracticable for me, nor were my spirits\nequal to so severe an employment. Here lay my greatest calamity. I had\nno hopes of delivering my opinions with such elegance and neatness, as\nto draw to me the attention of the world, and I would rather live and\ndie in obscurity than produce them maimed and imperfect.\n\n\"Such a miserable disappointment I scarce ever remember to have heard\nof. The small distance betwixt me and perfect health makes me the more\nuneasy in my present situation. It is a weakness rather than a lowness\nof spirits which troubles me, and there seems to be as great a\ndifference betwixt my distemper and common vapours, as betwixt vapours\nand madness. I have noticed in the writings of the French mystics, and\nin those of our fanatics here, that when they give a history of the\nsituation of their souls, they mention a coldness and desertion of the\nspirit, which frequently returns; and some of them, at the beginning,\nhave been tormented with it many years. As this kind of devotion depends\nentirely on the force of passion, and consequently of the animal\nspirits, I have often thought that their case and mine were pretty\nparallel, and that their rapturous admirations might discompose the\nfabric of the nerves and brain, as much as profound reflections, and\nthat warmth or enthusiasm which is inseparable from them.\n\n\"However this may be, I have not come out of the cloud so well as they\ncommonly tell us they have done, or rather began to despair of ever\nrecovering. To keep myself from being melancholy on so dismal a\nprospect, my only security was in peevish reflections on the vanity of\nthe world and of all human glory; which, however just sentiments they\nmay be esteemed, I have found can never be sincere, except in those who\nare possessed of them. Being sensible that all my philosophy would never\nmake me contented in my present situation, I began to rouse up myself;\nand being encouraged by instances of recovery from worse degrees of this\ndistemper, as well as by the assurances of my physicians, I began to\nthink of something more effectual than I had hitherto tried. I found,\nthat as there are two things very bad for this distemper, study and\nidleness, so there are two things very good, business and diversion; and\nthat my whole time was spent betwixt the bad, with little or no share of\nthe good. For this reason I resolved to seek out a more active life, and\nthough I could not quit my pretensions in learning but with my last\nbreath, to lay them aside for some time, in order the more effectually\nto resume them. Upon examination, I found my choice confined to two\nkinds of life, that of a travelling governor, and that of a merchant.\nThe first, besides that it is in some respects an idle life, was, I\nfound, unfit for me; and that because from a sedentary and retired way\nof living, from a bashful temper, and from a narrow fortune, I had been\nlittle accustomed to general companies, and had not confidence and\nknowledge enough of the world to push my fortune, or to be serviceable\nin that way. I therefore fixed my choice upon a merchant; and having got\nrecommendation to a considerable trader in Bristol, I am just now\nhastening thither, with a resolution to forget myself, and every thing\nthat is past, to engage myself, as far as is possible, in that course of\nlife, and to toss about the world, from the one pole to the other, till\nI leave this distemper behind me.\n\n\"As I am come to London in my way to Bristol, I have resolved, if\npossible, to get your advice, though I should take this absurd method of\nprocuring it. All the physicians I have consulted, though very able,\ncould never enter into my distemper; because not being persons of great\nlearning beyond their own profession, they were unacquainted with these\nmotions of the mind. Your fame pointed you out as the properest person\nto resolve my doubts, and I was determined to have somebody's opinion,\nwhich I could rest upon in all the varieties of fears and hopes,\nincident to so lingering a distemper. I hope I have been particular\nenough in describing the symptoms to allow you to form a judgment; or\nrather, perhaps, have been too particular. But you know it is a symptom\nof this distemper, to delight in complaining and talking of itself. The\nquestions I would humbly propose to you are: Whether, among all those\nscholars you have been acquainted with, you have ever known any affected\nin this manner? Whether I can ever hope for a recovery? Whether I must\nlong wait for it? Whether my recovery will ever be perfect, and my\nspirits regain their former spring and vigour, so as to endure the\nfatigue of deep and abstruse thinking? Whether I have taken a right way\nto recover? I believe all proper medicines have been used, and therefore\nI need mention nothing of them.\"\n\nThe history of this eventful period in the mental biography of Hume, is\nvery briefly narrated in his \"own life.\" Alluding to his adoption of the\nlife of a student, he says, \"My very slender fortune, however, being\nunsuitable to this plan of life, and my health being a little broken by\nmy ardent application, I was tempted, or rather forced, to make a very\nfeeble trial for entering into a more active scene of life. In 1734, I\nwent to Bristol, with some recommendations to eminent merchants, but in\na few months found that scene totally unsuitable to me.\"\n\n\nI am sure the reader will sympathize with me in esteeming it a high\nprivilege to be the humble instrument of ushering into the world so\ncurious a piece of literary autobiography as that which he has just\nperused. We are here admitted into the confessional. So secret is the\ncommunication of thought by the writer to the receiver, that the latter,\nwho was made acquainted with so much of the internal meditations of the\nformer, was not to be allowed to know with what outward man this mind of\nwhich he obtained a description was connected. The individual mind was\nfully and minutely described--to what individual man this mind belonged\nwas to be preserved a profound secret. The writer shrunk from the\nadmission of any man to a participation with him in his\nself-conferences, and he planned that by keeping his name a secret, the\nlink which would connect this knowledge of the inner to an acquaintance\nwith the outer man should be broken. We have surely in this an argument\nin favour of the candour and explicitness of his narrative. He felt that\nto be known, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, by the person he\naddressed, would be a restraint on the freedom of his revelations--he\nthrew off this restraint, and we are entitled to infer that his letter\nis a piece of full and candid self-examination. Every word of it, as it\nwas originally written, is here printed, and it will perhaps be admitted\nthat there is not one word of it that does not do honour to its writer.\nTo Aristotle and others it is attributed that they taught esoteric\ndoctrines to a chosen few--doctrines not to be promulgated to the world\nat large, because they were likely to have a dangerous influence on\nminds not skilfully trained for their reception. For any vestiges of\nthese hidden doctrines the world searches, anticipating that in them\nwill be found a nearer approach to that which the philosopher believed\nin his own mind, as distinct from that which he desired to inculcate on\nothers. In all ages there has been a natural and a praiseworthy\ncuriosity to know the hidden thoughts of great teachers. Mankind in\ngeneral admit, that truth is what is valuable in all philosophy, and if\na man entertained thoughts in his own mind in any way different from\nthose which he taught, it has been a conclusion certainly quite\nlegitimate, that truth is more likely to be found in the former than in\nthe latter. But certainly there can hardly be found any other instance\nin which a document, so likely to be the honest impress of a\nphilosopher's own mind, has been laid before the world; and it is an\nattestation of the sincerity with which the opinions then in the course\nof formation in his mind were believed.\n\nBut, independently of the philosophical value of the document, to be\nthus admitted into the secrecy of the thoughts of a man ambitious of\nhigh literary distinction, and who has attained his object, is a rare\nprivilege. The revelation, notwithstanding its foreboding tone, is\ncalculated to give far more pleasure than pain. The future, which seemed\nto the desponding philosopher for a moment so dark, we know to have\nbrightened on him. Hume was of the happy few who lived to see their airy\ncastles substantially realized. Comparing what it reveals of the inner\nman, with the subsequent history of his achievements, the picture\nsupplied by this fragment of autobiography is a happy one. We sympathize\nwith the aspiring dreams of the young man, without feeling that they\nwere afterwards doomed to disappointment. The immediate occasion of his\nearnest appeal is undoubtedly one of despondency; but it was preceded by\nhope, as we know it was followed by success; and notwithstanding this\npassing cloud, it may fairly be pronounced, that though Hume enjoyed\nthrough life more than the average portion of human happiness, he had no\nmoments of purer felicity than those in which, in the retirement of his\npaternal home, he was sketching the airy outline of his subsequent\ncareer.\n\nPerhaps the feature that will most forcibly strike the reader, is the\nevidence of the deep-rooted ambition to found a philosophical\nreputation, that seems to have filled the mind of the writer of this\ndocument. The consciousness that the receiver of the paper must at once\nperceive this circumstance, and the desire not to let a stranger\npenetrate his aspiring thoughts, must have been the reasons of his\ndesire for secrecy: it was natural that one who had not entered the\nlists to struggle for literary distinction, should wish to conceal how\nstrong and inextinguishable was his desire to obtain the prize. The\nintensity of his anxiety on this subject seems to have made him, in\nrelation to his mind, what the ordinary hypochondriac is as to his\nphysical constitution. The desire to preserve the elements of\ndistinction was so intense, that it disturbed him with vain fears for\ntheir disappearance. Feeling within him, at times, the consciousness of\npossessing an original genius,--that it should depart from him, and that\nhis lot should be cast among that of ordinary mortals, with good\nphysical health and commonplace abilities, appeared to him the most\nawful calamity which fate could have in store for him. Of the excellent\nphysical health which accompanied these unpleasant variations of his\nmental capacity, he speaks with an almost sardonic scorn, as one who, in\nthe bitterness of being bereft of what is all in all to him, talks of\nsome paltry trifle which fortune in her sarcastic malice has chosen to\nleave untouched. In short, the manner in which he speaks of the\ndeparture of his cunning, must almost necessarily convey to the reader a\nconsiderable portion of that ludicrous character which is always\npresented by a scene in which a man appears to be dreadfully anxious\nabout the safety of that which either is of no importance, or is not in\ndanger.\n\nIt may be a question whether this strange letter was ever sent to its\ndestination, as the version from which it is here printed is not a rough\ndraught, but a neatly written copy, such as might have been prepared for\ntransmission. But this does not afford so full a presumption in Hume's\ncase, as it would in that of the average of literary men, as he seems to\nhave felt a sort of enjoyment in his earlier years in having his papers\nneatly written out. The first name that suggested itself as that of the\nperson to whom the paper was addressed was Arbuthnot, whose fine genius\nwas just then flickering in the socket. But a more full consideration\nshowed to my satisfaction that it must have been destined for Dr. George\nCheyne, and that it was suggested by that eminent physician's\npublication, in the preceding year, of \"The English Malady; or, a\nTreatise of Nervous Diseases of all kinds, as Spleen, Vapours, Lowness\nof Spirits, Hypochondriacal Distempers, &c.\" There is a certain unison\nof tone between Hume's letter and this book, that, added to other\ncoincidences, strongly impresses on the mind their connexion with each\nother; and though it is perhaps necessary, before this is fully seen, to\nenter into the whole tenor and tone of Cheyne's book, the reader will\nperhaps find the following passage sufficient to render the conjecture\nprobable:--\n\n\"It is a common observation, (and I think has great probability on its\nside,) that fools, weak or stupid persons, heavy and dull souls, are\nseldom much troubled with vapours or lowness of spirits. The\nintellectual faculty, without all manner of doubt, has material and\nanimal organs, by which it mediately works, as well as the animal\nfunctions. What they are, and how they operate, as I believe very few\nknow, so it is very little necessary to know them for my present\npurpose. As a philosophical musician may understand proportions and\nharmony, and yet never be in a condition to gratify a company with a\nfine piece of music, without the benefit of sounds from proper organs,\nso the intellectual operations (as long as the present union between\nsoul and body lasts) can never be performed in the best manner without\nproper instruments. The works of imagination and memory, of study,\nthinking, and reflecting, from whatever source the principle on which\nthey depend springs, must necessarily require bodily organs. Some have\nthese organs finer, quicker, more agile, and sensible, and perhaps more\nnumerous than others; brute animals have few or none, at least none that\nbelong to reflection; vegetables certainly none at all. There is no\naccount to be given how a disease, a fall, a blow, a debauch, poisons,\nviolent passions, astral and aerial influences, much application, and\nthe like, should possibly alter or destroy these intellectual operations\nwithout this supposition. It is evident, that in nervous distempers, and\na great many other bodily diseases, these faculties and their operations\nare impaired, nay, totally ruined and extinguished to all appearance;\nand yet, by proper remedies, and after recovery of health, they are\nrestored and brought to their former state. Now, since this present age\nhas made efforts to go beyond former times, in all the arts of\ningenuity, invention, study, learning, and all the contemplative and\nsedentary professions, (I speak only here of our own nation, our own\ntimes, and of the better sort, whose chief employments and studies these\nare,) the organs of these faculties being thereby worn and spoiled, must\naffect and deaden the whole system, and lay a foundation for the\ndiseases of lowness and weakness. Add to this, that those who are\nlikeliest to excel and apply in this manner, are most capable and most\nin hazard of following that way of life which I have mentioned, as the\nlikeliest to produce these diseases. Great wits are generally great\nepicures, at least, men of taste. And the bodies and constitutions of\none generation are still more corrupt, infirm, and diseased, than those\nof the former, as they advance in time and the use of the causes\nassigned.\"\n\nThen there are the farther coincidences, that Cheyne was a Scotsman,\nthat he was an eminent man in his profession, and that he had bestowed\nsome attention on mental philosophy. \"I passed my youth,\" he tells us,\n\"in close study, and almost constant application to the abstracted\nsciences, wherein my chief pleasure consisted.\" \"Having,\" he elsewhere\nsays, \"had a liberal education, with the instruction and example of\npious parents, (who at first had designed me for the church,) I had\npreserved a firm persuasion of the great and fundamental principles of\nall virtue and morality: viz. the existence of a supreme and infinitely\nperfect Being, the freedom of the will, the immortality of the spirits\nof all intellectual beings, and the certainty of future rewards or\npunishments. These doctrines I had examined carefully, and had been\nconfirmed in, from abstracted reasonings, as well as from the best\nnatural philosophy, and some clearer knowledge of the material system of\nthe world in general, and the wisdom, fitness, and beautiful contrivance\nof particular things animated and inanimated; so that the truth and\nnecessity of these principles was so riveted in me, (which may be seen\nby the first edition of my 'Philosophical Principles,' published some\nyears before that happened,[45:1]) as never after to be shaken in all my\nwanderings and follies.\"[45:2] It may be mentioned also, as a\ncircumstance likely to bring Cheyne's work early under Hume's\nobservation, that it contains a long statement of the case of Dr.\nWilliam Cranstoun, an eminent medical man then residing at Jedburgh, in\nthe same district of country with Ninewells.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1:1] Old Style.\n\n[1:2] He is entered in the list of members on 23d June, 1705, as \"Mr.\nJoseph Hume of Ninewalls.\" It thus appears that the orthography of the\nname adopted by his son, and which will be found to have been so much\nthe subject of dispute, was not a novelty to the family.\n\n[2:1] Both the \"Peerage\" and the \"Baronage\" of Scotland, by Robert\nDouglas, are well known to Scottish genealogical antiquaries. The former\nwas published in 1764. The latter, in which there is a brief account of\nthe Ninewells' family, in 1798.\n\n[4:1] In connexion with this, it is not uninteresting to view Hume's\nopinions on the philosophy of family pride. He says, in the Treatise of\nHuman Nature, Book ii. p. i. sect. 9.--\"'Tis evident that, when any one\nboasts of the antiquity of his family, the subjects of his vanity are\nnot merely the extent of time and number of ancestors, but also their\nriches and credit, which are supposed to reflect a lustre on himself on\naccount of his relation to them. He first considers these objects; is\naffected by them in an agreeable manner; and then returning back to\nhimself, through the relation of parent and child, is elevated with the\npassion of pride, by means of the double relation of impressions and\nideas. Since, therefore, the passion depends on these relations,\nwhatever strengthens any of the relations must also increase the\npassion, and whatever weakens the relations must diminish the passion.\nNow 'tis certain the identity of the possession strengthens the relation\nof ideas arising from blood and kindred, and conveys the fancy with\ngreater facility from one generation to another, from the remotest\nancestors to their posterity, who are both their heirs and their\ndescendants. By this facility the impression is transmitted more entire,\nand excites a greater degree of pride and vanity.\"\n\n[6:1] The document is quoted in Book ii. of Robertson's History of\nScotland.\n\n[6:2] A tragic incident occurred in the year 1683, in which Hume of\nNinewells, and Johnston of Hilton, were victims to the revengeful\npassions of a brother of the Earl of Home, vented under circumstances of\nsingular treachery and inhospitality. It is thus narrated in Law's\nMemorials, p. 259. \"December, 1683, about the close of that moneth, the\nEarl himself being from home, the Lairds of Hilton and Nynhools came to\nmake a visit to the Earl of Home his house, and went to dice and cards\nwith Mr. William Home, the Earl's brother. Some sharp words fell amongst\nthem at their game, which were not noticed, as it seemed to them; yet,\nwhen the two gentlemen were gone to their bed-chambers, the foresaid Mr.\nWilliam comes up with his sword and stabs Hilton with nine deadly\nwounds, in his bed, that he dies immediately; and wounds Nynhools\nmortally, so that it was thought he could not live, and immediately took\nhorse and fled into England--a treacherous and villanous act done to two\ninnocent gentlemen, the fruits of dicing and card gaming.\"\n\n\"Joseph Johnstone of Hilton was stabbed by Mr. William, brother to\nCharles earle of Hume. Hilton being of a lofty temper, had given Mr.\nHume bad words in his own house of Hilton, and a box on the ear. . . .\nAnd William Hume made his escape to England, on Hilton's horse. He was\nafter killed himself in the wars abroad.\"--Lord Fountainhall's Diary, p.\n33.\n\nThe editor of Law, Mr. Kirkpatrick Sharpe, appends the following farther\nnotices of this incident:--\n\n\"Before his death he is said to have returned to Scotland, smitten with\nremorse, and anxious to obtain pardon of a near male relation of\nJohnstone's, then residing in Edinburgh. This gentleman, in the dusk of\nthe evening, was called forth to the outside stairs of the house, to\nspeak with a stranger muffled in a cloak. As he proceeded along the\npassage, the door being open, he recognised the murderer; and\nimmediately drawing his sword, rushed towards him, on which the other\nleapt nimbly down from the stairs into the street, and was never again\nseen in Scotland.\" These events were made the subject of an amusing\nsketch in _Chambers's Edinburgh Journal_, No. 569.\n\n[7:1] Copy MS. communicated by Dr. Vallange, Portobello.\n\n[8:1] Hist. and Allus. Arms, p. 400, where the information is derived\nfrom Douglas's Baronage.\n\n[9:1] Unless such allusions as the following be held as an exception:\n\"The north of England abounds in the best horses of all kinds which are\nperhaps in the world. In the neighbouring counties, north side of the\nTweed, no good horses of any kind are to be met with.\" Essay on National\nCharacters. But he speaks fully as distinctly and specifically of local\nmatters in France or Spain.\n\nThe remarks in the text may probably be considered superfluous, being\napplicable to by far the greater portion of literary men--as those who\nhave attempted to trace, from the internal evidence of their works, the\nbirthplaces of authors not commemorated by their contemporaries, can\ntestify. Thomson, also a borderer, and a poet of rural life, has\nscarcely any allusion that bears a distinct reference to the scenery of\nhis childhood, and celebrates the heroism of almost every land but his\nown. In that age, however, to be national in Scotland was to be\nprovincial in Britain; and unless an author chose to aim at the\nrestricted reputation of a Ramsay or a Pennecuik, he must carefully shun\nallusions to his native country. But the very existence of this, as a\ngeneral characteristic, seems to render it worthy of notice in this\ninstance, which must certainly be held, like Thomson's, a peculiarly\nmarked illustration of this feature in literary history. Hume had\nfrequently to record events which had taken place close to his home; and\nthe whole of the surrounding district was full of traditional lore,\nabout the wild life of the borderers in the seventeenth century, which\nwould have afforded valuable materials for his history, and some of his\nother works, had he been one of those who derive their knowledge from\nmen as well as from books. But these volumes will afford ample\nopportunity for observing, that he required to place no great restraint\non his pen to keep it free of provincial allusions; and that, even in\nhis most familiar letters, though he often speaks of the friends of his\nyouth, he says nothing of the places in which he spent his early days.\n\n[12:1] Among the Hume Papers in the possession of the Royal Society of\nEdinburgh, there is a letter from the chevalier, addressed to \"Monsieur\nde Ramsay, \u00e0 l'H\u00f4tel de Provence, Rue de Cond\u00e9, Faubourg St. Germain,\"\ndated 1st September, 1742. The receiver of this letter was probably the\ncorrespondent of Hume, to whom it may have been sent, under the\nimpression that he was the person connected with the Vindication of the\nDuchess of Marlborough, a book now well known to have been put into\nshape by Hooke, the historian of Rome. The letter is in English; and it\nshows that there are works of genius which the author of \"The Travels of\nCyrus\" had not taste to appreciate. He says:--\n\n\"I have read the first book of 'The History of Joseph Andrews,' but\ndon't believe I shall be able to finish the first volume. Dull burlesque\nis still more insupportable than dull morality. Perhaps my not\nunderstanding the language of low life in an English style is the reason\nof my disgust; but I am afraid your Britannic wit is at as low an ebb as\nthe French. I hope to find some more amusement in my Lady Duchess of\nMarlborough's adventures. They say a friend of ours has some hand in\nthem. I pity his misfortune, if he is obliged to stoop below his fine\ngenius and talents, to please an old rich dowager, that neither deserves\napology nor praise, and that would be too much honoured for her merit by\nan ingenious fine satyr. I long to be in a condition to travel, that I\nmay see and embrace you, make acquaintance with your amiable young Lord,\nand assure you both of the tender zeal, friendship, and attachment with\nwhich I am your most humble and most obedient servant,\n\n\"The Ch. RAMSAY.\"\n\nPerhaps the criticism on Fielding may not be thought inconsistent with\nthe man who pronounced Locke a shallow writer.\n\n[14:1] Virg. \u00c6n. iii. 660.\n\n[14:2]\n\n     At secura quies, et nescia fallere vita,\n     Dives opum variarum: at latis otia fundis,\n     Spelunc\u00e6, vivique lacus; at frigida Tempe,\n     Mugitusque boum, mollesque sub arbore somni\n     Non absunt.\n\n                                Virg. Georg. ii. 467 et seq.\n\nIn the course of the correspondence which follows, there will be found\nseveral quotations from the Latin classics. Hume's handwriting is so\ndistinct, that we can seldom have any doubt of the individual letters\nwritten by him. At the same time, as he appears to have always quoted\nfrom memory, there is sometimes a greater difference than even that\nexhibited above, between the original and his version of it. I have\nthought, that were I to attempt to correct his quotations, I would be\nremoving valuable data from which the reader may form an estimate of his\nmental powers and his education. It will perhaps be allowed, that in\nsome instances he shows a fertile invention in substituting words for\nthose which his memory has failed to retain; while in others, as in the\nabove quotation, the fastidious critics of England will perhaps detect\ntraces of the more slovenly classical education of Scotland. In his\npublished works, Hume appears to have anxiously collated his quotations.\nBut in his letters he seems to have been always more anxious about the\njudicious choice of his own expressions, than the accurate transcription\nof the words of others. His letters appear to have been carefully\ncomposed. He wrote in constant dread of falling into slovenly\ncolloquialisms of style, and was not ashamed to leave on his letters the\nmarks of this anxiety, in corrections and interlineations. This\npeculiarity must be admitted to be at variance with the received canon\nof the learned world, which excuses mistakes and clumsy expressions in\nthe vernacular language of a writer, but has no mercy for irregularities\nin the use of the dead languages.\n\n[16:1] From a scroll in the MSS. bequeathed by Baron Hume to the Royal\nSociety of Edinburgh.\n\nAn account of these MSS. will be found in the Preface. Henceforth, for\nthe sake of brevity, they will be referred to thus--MS. R.S.E. A part of\nthe above letter has been already printed in the _Literary Gazette_ for\n1821, p. 762.\n\n[25:1] It may be interesting to compare these extracts with his method\nof treating the same subject at a later period of his life. The\nfollowing is taken from his Essay on the Feudal and Anglo-Norman\nGovernment and Manners, in the two volumes of his History, first\npublished in 1762.\n\n\"The feudal institutions, by raising the military tenants to a kind of\nsovereign dignity, by rendering personal strength and valour requisite,\nand by making every knight and baron his own protector and avenger,\nbegat that martial pride and sense of honour, which, being cultivated\nand embellished by the poets and romance writers of the age, ended in\nchivalry. The virtuous knight fought not only in his own quarrel, but in\nthat of the innocent, of the helpless, and, above all, of the fair, whom\nhe supposed to be for ever under the guardianship of his valiant arm.\nThe uncourteous knight, who, from his castle, exercised robbery on\ntravellers, and committed violence on virgins, was the object of his\nperpetual indignation; and he put him to death without scruple, or\ntrial, or appeal, whenever he met with him. The great independence of\nmen made personal honour and fidelity the chief tie among them, and\nrendered it the capital virtue of every true knight, or genuine\nprofessor of chivalry. The solemnities of single combat, as established\nby law, banished the notion of every thing unfair or unequal in\nrencounters, and maintained an appearance of courtesy between the\ncombatants till the moment of their engagement. The credulity of the age\ngrafted on this stock the notions of giants, enchanters, spells, and a\nthousand wonders, which still multiplied during the time of the\ncrusades, when men, returning from so great a distance, used the liberty\nof imposing every fiction on their believing audience. These ideas of\nchivalry infected the writings, conversations, and behaviour of men\nduring some ages; and even after they were in a great measure banished\nby the revival of learning, they left modern _gallantry_, and the _point\nof honour_, which still maintain their influence, and are the genuine\noffspring of those ancient affectations.\"\n\n[28:1] Perhaps few authors afford so many curious illustrations of the\nsubstitution of fanciful analogy for the severe logic of a practical\nlawyer, as Lord Kames--_e. g._ when, in his essays on British\nantiquities, he identifies hereditary descent with the law of\ngravitation, and the inclination of the mind to continue downwards in a\nstraight line, as a stone falls from a height; so that, \"in tracing out\na family, the mind descends by degrees from the father, first to the\neldest son, and so downwards in the order of age:\" pleasant enough\nspeculations, yet not likely to serve any good purpose in practical law.\n\n[29:1] Essay on Eloquence.\n\n[45:1] Philosophical Principles of Natural Religion, 1705, 8vo.\n\n[45:2] The English Malady, p. 330-331. I have run my eye over Cheyne's\n\"Natural Method of Curing Diseases of the Body and Mind,\" 1742,\n8vo,--the only work I am aware of his having published subsequently to\nthe date of Hume's letter, but I have found in it no trace of a\nreference to Hume's case. Cheyne's works are perhaps better known to the\npublic in general, than any medical books of the same period, and their\ncurious discursive contents amply repay perusal. Their science is of\ncourse held to be completely superseded, but the unscientific reader\ncannot help thinking that there is much sagacious good counsel in his\nadvice, notwithstanding the eccentric garrulity with which it is\nuttered. His account of his own experiences, in experimenting on\nhimself, is the most interesting department of his medical observations.\nHe describes every thing with a sort of rude eloquence, infinitely more\npleasing to an ordinary reader than scientific precision; and the\nrecklessness with which he appears to have submitted his own carcass to\nthe most violent changes of regimen, inclines one to think that he had\napplied towards it the _fiat experimentum in compore vili_. He tells us\nthat he was disposed to \"corpulence by the whole race of one side\" of\nhis family. In the quotation given above, he represents himself as\nhaving been studious in his youth. He began to practise his profession\nin London, of which he says--\"The number of fires, sulphurous and\nbituminous; the vast expense of tallow and foetid oil in candles and\nlamps, under and above ground; the clouds of stinking breaths and\nperspiration, not to mention the ordure of so many diseased, both\nintelligent and unintelligent animals; the crowded churches,\nchurchyards, and burying places, with putrifying bodies, the sinks,\nbutcher houses, stables, dunghills, and the necessary stagnation,\nfermentation, and mixture of all variety of all kinds of atoms, are more\nthan sufficient to putrify, poison, and infect the air, for twenty miles\nround it.\" Having come from the fresh air of the country into so hopeful\nan atmosphere, he seems to have resolved that his habit of living should\nbe an equally great contrast to his previous studious abstinence. \"Upon\nmy coming to London, I all of a sudden changed my whole manner of\nliving. I found the bottle-companions, the younger gentry, and\nfree-livers, to be the most easy of access, and most quickly susceptible\nof friendship and acquaintance,--nothing being necessary for that\npurpose but to be able to eat lustily, and swallow down much liquor; and\nbeing naturally of a large size, a cheerful temper, and tolerable lively\nimagination; and having, in my country retirement, laid in store of\nideas and facts,--by these qualifications I soon became caressed by\nthem, and grew daily in bulk, and in friendship with these gay gentlemen\nand their acquaintances. I was tempted to continue this course, no\ndoubt, from a liking, as well as to force a trade, which method I had\nobserved to succeed with some others: and thus constantly dining and\nsupping in taverns, and in the houses of my acquaintances of taste and\ndelicacy, my health was in a few years brought into great distress, by\nso sudden and violent a change. I grew excessively fat, short-breathed,\nlethargic, and listless.\"\n\nThe consequences were \"a constant, violent headach, giddiness, lowness,\nanxiety, and terror,\" and he went about \"like a malefactor condemned, or\none who expected every moment to be crushed by a ponderous instrument of\ndeath hanging over his head.\" These evil symptoms prompted him to\nabandon suppers and restrict himself to a small quantity of animal food\nand of fermented liquors. He very naturally found that on this abrupt\nchange all his \"bouncing, protesting, and undertaking companions\"\nforsook him, and \"dropped off like autumnal leaves,\" leaving him to\nvegetate in temperate dreariness, while they \"retired to comfort\nthemselves with a cheer-up cup,\" so that he pathetically tells us, \"I\nwas forced to retire into the country quite alone, being reduced to the\nstate of Cardinal Wolsey, when he said, that if he had served his Maker\nas faithfully and warmly as he had his prince, he would not have\nforsaken him in that extremity.\"\n\nIt would be difficult to follow out the multitudinous course of remedies\nhe adopted, commencing with \"volatiles, foetids, bitters, chalybeats,\nand mineral waters,\" and how he took twenty grains of \"what is called\nthe prince's powder,\" and \"had certainly perished under the operation,\nbut for an over-dose of laudanum after it,\" having thus experienced\nsomething like the good fortune of the man of Thessaly who leaped into a\nquickset hedge. Under these circumstances he felt his body \"melting away\nlike a snow-ball in summer.\" Having tried the Bath waters, he appears to\nhave somewhat revived, whereupon by increasing his quantity of \"animal\nfood and strong liquors,\" he was \"heated so,\" that he \"apprehended a\nhectic.\" His next change was to a milk diet, in which experiment he was\nconfirmed by a visit to Dr. Taylor of Croydon, its apostle, whom he\nfound \"at home, at his full quart of cow's milk, which was all his\ndinner.\" He found in consequence of this change, that he \"increased in\nspirits, strength, appetite and gaiety,\" until, the old Adam struggling\nwithin him, he \"began to find a craving and insufferable longing for\nmore solid and toothsome food, and for higher and stronger liquors.\"\nHereupon we have him getting more generous in his diet, but still, as he\ncounts it, \"sober, moderate, and plain,\" in so far as he \"drank not\nabove a quart or three pints at most of wine any day.\" Under this\nregimen, he says, \"I swelled to such an enormous size, that upon my last\nweighing I exceeded thirty-two stones.\" Then came fits of various kinds,\nand a dreary period of hypochondria, with recurrences to the low diet\nsystem, and then such startling revulsions from it as the following: \"I\nresolved to change my half pint of port at dinner, into the same\nquantity of Florence. I ate, at the same time, a good deal of more\nbutter with my vegetables, and plenty of old rich cheese; and likewise\nnuts extremely--I procured from abroad and at home, great plenty of all\nkinds, as filberts, walnuts, chestnuts, almonds, &c., eating them in\ngreat quantities after dinner by way of dessert,\" but in pity to the\ndigestive sympathies of the reader this subject must be dropped. Dr.\nCheyne is--not the martyr, but the hero of dyspepsia, and Mrs. Radcliffe\ncould not have drawn him through a longer series of horrors than his\ninventive genius seems to have created for himself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n1734-1739. \u00c6T. 23-27.\n\n     Hume leaves Bristol for France--Paris--Miracles at the Tomb of\n     the Abb\u00e9 Paris--Rheims--La Fl\u00eache--Associations with the Abb\u00e9\n     Pluche and Des Cartes--Observations on French Society and\n     Manners--Story of La Roche--Return to Britain.--Correspondence\n     with Henry Home--Publication of the first and second volume of\n     The Treatise of Human Nature--Character of that Work--Its\n     Influence on mental Philosophy.\n\n\nWe have no account of Hume's sojourn in Bristol, except his own very\nbrief statement, that \"in a few months,\" he \"found that scene totally\nunsuitable\" to him.[48:1] He must have proceeded to France about the\nmiddle of the year 1734, and he thus describes in his \"own life,\" his\nmotives and intentions. \"I went over to France, with a view of\nprosecuting my studies in a country retreat; and I there laid that plan\nof life, which I have steadily and successfully pursued. I resolved to\nmake a very rigid frugality supply my deficiency of fortune, to\nmaintain unimpaired my independency, and to regard every object as\ncontemptible, except the improvement of my talents in literature.\"\n\nHis subsequent letters show that he proceeded in the first instance to\nParis, where he remained for a short time. Not long before his arrival\nthere, some occurrences had taken place which were afterwards\nprominently referred to in his philosophical writings. A Jansenist,\ndistinguished by his sanctity and the wide circle of his charities--the\nAbb\u00e9 Paris, having died, a tomb was erected over his remains in the\ncemetery of St. M\u00e9dard. Thither the poor, whom the good man had\nsuccoured in life, repaired to bless his memory and pray for the state\nof his soul. But it was discovered that this devotion was speedily\nrewarded; for the sick were cured, the blind saw, all manner of miracles\nwere performed; and the evidence of their genuineness was considered so\nsatisfactory, that the Jesuits were never able to impugn them--an\ninstance which it might be well for every one to recall to mind who is\ntold of phenomena out of the ordinary course of nature being\nauthenticated by the testimony of respectable and enlightened people. At\nlength, this series of miracles became offensive to the\ngovernment--there was no saying how far the matter might proceed. It was\nresolved that there should be no more miracles performed at the tomb of\nthe Abb\u00e9 Paris: the gates of the cemetery were closed, and the miracles\nnecessarily came to an end. This occurred in the year 1732, just two\nyears before Hume's visit; and it will easily be imagined that the\nreferences to these wonderful events which he would hear in\nconversation, suggested many trains of thought to the young philosopher.\nIt was not long afterwards, and probably while all this was very fresh\nin his memory, that the principal theory of his Essay on Miracles was\nsuggested to him. In that Essay he says:\n\n\"Many of the miracles of Abb\u00e9 Paris were proved immediately by witnesses\nbefore the officialty or bishop's court at Paris, under the eye of\nCardinal Noailles, whose character for integrity and capacity was never\ncontested even by his enemies.\n\n\"His successor in the archbishopric was an enemy to the Jansenists, and\nfor that reason promoted to the see by the court. Yet twenty-two rectors\nor cur\u00e9s of Paris, with infinite earnestness, press him to examine those\nmiracles, which they assert to be known to the whole world, and\nindisputably certain. But he wisely forbore.\"\n\nAnd farther on:--\n\n\"No less a man than the Duc de Chatillon, a duke and peer of France, of\nthe highest rank and family, gives evidence of a miraculous cure,\nperformed upon a servant of his, who had lived several years in his\nhouse with a visible and palpable infirmity.\n\n\"I shall conclude with observing, that no clergy are more celebrated for\nstrictness of life and manners than the secular clergy of France,\nparticularly the rectors or cur\u00e9s of Paris, who bear testimony to these\nimpostures.\"\n\nAn illustration of his notice of what was passing around him in Paris,\noccurs in the following passage in his \"Natural History of Religion.\"\n\n\"I lodged once at Paris in the same hotel with an ambassador from Tunis,\nwho, having passed some years at London, was returning home that way.\nOne day I observed his Moorish excellency diverting himself under the\nporch, with surveying the splendid equipages that drove along; when\nthere chanced to pass that way some Capucin friars, who had never seen\na Turk, as he, on his part, though accustomed to the European dresses,\nhad never seen the grotesque figure of a Capucin: and there is no\nexpressing the mutual admiration with which they inspired each other.\nHad the chaplain of the embassy entered into a dispute with these\nFranciscans, their reciprocal surprise had been of the same nature. Thus\nall mankind stand staring at one another; and there is no beating it\ninto their heads, that the turban of the African is not just as good or\nas bad a fashion as the cowl of the European.--'He is a very honest\nman,' said the Prince of Sallee, speaking of De Ruyter; 'it is a pity he\nwere a Christian.'\"\n\nAfter leaving Paris, he resided at Rheims in the province of Champagne,\nabout eighty miles north-east of the metropolis. Thence he addressed to\nhis friend Michael Ramsay the following letter, full of observation and\nthought.\n\n\nHUME _to_ MICHAEL RAMSAY.\n\n\"_Rheims, September 12, 1734._\n\n\"MY DEAR MICHAEL,--I suppose you have received two letters from me,\ndated at Paris, in one of which was enclosed a letter to my Lord Stair.\nI am now arrived at Rheims, which is to be the place of my abode for\nsome considerable time, and where I hope both to spend my time happily\nfor the present, and lay up a stock for the future. It is a large town,\ncontaining about forty thousand inhabitants, and has in it about thirty\nfamilies that keep coaches, though, by the appearance of the houses, you\nwould not think there was one. I am recommended to two of the best\nfamilies in town, and particularly to a man, who they say is one of the\nmost learned in France.[52:1] He is just now in the country, so that I\nhave not yet seen him; though, if I had seen him, it would be some time\nbefore I could contract a friendship with him, not being yet sufficient\nmaster of the language to support a conversation; which is a great\nvexation to me, but which I hope in a short time to get over. As I have\nlittle more than this to say about business, I shall use the freedom to\nentertain you with any idle thoughts that come into my head, hoping at\nleast you will excuse them, if not be pleased with them, because they\ncome from an absent friend.\n\n\"When I parted from Paris, the Chevalier Ramsay gave me as his advice,\nto observe carefully, and imitate as much as possible, the manners of\nthe French. For, says he, though the English, perhaps, have more of the\nreal politeness of the heart, yet the French certainly have the better\nway of expressing it. This gave me occasion to reflect upon the matter,\nand in my humble opinion it is just the contrary: viz., that the French\nhave more real politeness, and the English the better method of\nexpressing it. By real politeness I mean softness of temper, and a\nsincere inclination to oblige and be serviceable, which is very\nconspicuous in this nation, not only among the high but low; in so much\nthat the porters and coachmen here are civil, and that, not only to\ngentlemen, but likewise among themselves; so that I have not yet seen\none quarrel in France, though they are every where to be met with in\nEngland.[53:1] By the expressions of politeness, I mean those outward\ndeferences and ceremonies which custom has invented, to supply the\ndefect of real politeness or kindness, that is unavoidable towards\nstrangers, or indifferent persons, even in men of the best dispositions\nin the world. These ceremonies ought to be so contrived, as that, though\nthey do not deceive nor pass for sincere, yet still they please by their\nappearance, and lead the mind by its own consent and knowledge into an\nagreeable delusion. One may err by running into either of the two\nextremes; that of making them too like truth or too remote from it:\nthough we may observe, that the first is scarce possible, because\nwhenever any expression or action becomes customary, it can deceive\nnobody. Thus, when the Quakers say, 'your friend,' they are as easily\nunderstood, as another, that says, 'your humble servant.' The French err\nin the contrary extreme, that of making their civilities too remote from\ntruth, which is a fault, though they are not designed to be believed;\njust as it is a transgression of rules in a dramatic poet to mix any\nimprobabilities with his fable, though 'tis certain that, in the\nrepresentation, the scenes, lights, company, and a thousand other\ncircumstances, make it impossible he can ever deceive.\n\n\"Another fault I find in the French manners, is that, like their clothes\nand furniture, they are too glaring. An English fine gentleman\ndistinguishes himself from the rest of the world, by the whole tenor of\nhis conversation, more than by any particular part of it; so that though\nyou are sensible he excels, you are at a loss to tell in what, and have\nno remarkable civilities and compliments to pitch on as a proof of his\npoliteness. These he so smooths over, that they pass for the common\nactions of life, and never put you to[55:1] trouble of returning thanks\nfor them. The English politeness is always greatest where it appears\nleast.\n\n\"After all, it must be confessed that the little niceties of French\nbehaviour, though troublesome and impertinent, yet serve to polish the\nordinary kind of people, and prevent rudeness and brutality. For in the\nsame manner as soldiers are found to become more courageous in learning\nto hold their muskets within half an inch of a place appointed; and your\ndevotees feel their devotion increase by the observance of trivial\nsuperstitions, as sprinkling, kneeling, crossing, &c.; so men insensibly\nsoften towards each other in the practice of these ceremonies. The mind\npleases itself by the progress it makes in such trifles, and while it is\nso supported, makes an easy transition to something more material. And I\nverily believe it is for this reason that you scarce ever meet with a\nclown or an ill-bred man in France.\n\n\"You may perhaps wonder that I, who have stayed so short time in France,\nand who have confessed that I am not master of their language, should\ndecide so positively of their manner. But you will please to observe,\nthat it is with nations as with particular men, where one trifle\nfrequently serves more to discover the character, than a whole train of\nconsiderable actions. Thus, when I compare our English phrase of 'humble\nservant,' which likewise we omit upon the least intimacy, with the\nFrench one of 'the honour of being your most humble servant,' which they\nnever forget,--this, compared with other circumstances, lets me clearly\nsee the different humours of the nations. This phrase, of the honour of\ndoing or saying such a thing to you, goes so far, that my washing-woman\nto-day told me, that she hoped she would have the honour of serving me\nwhile I staid at Rheims; and what is still more absurd, it is said by\npeople to those who are very much their inferiors.\n\n\"Before I conclude my letter, I must tell you that I hope you will\nexcuse my rudeness, if I use the freedom (?)[56:1] to desire of you\nthat, the next time you do me the honour of writing to me, you will be\nso good as to sit down a day before the post goes away; for I cannot\nhelp being afraid that, in your haste, you have omitted many things,\nwhich otherwise I would have had the honour and satisfaction of hearing\nfrom you. When you are so good as to condescend to write, please to\ndirect so:--'A Monsieur--Monsieur David Hume, gentilhomme, Ecossois,\nchez Monsieur Mesier, au Peroquet verd, proche la porte au Ferron,\nRheims.'\"[56:2]\n\n\nHume states, in his \"own life,\" that he passed \"three years\" very\nagreeably in France. We find from a letter to Principal Campbell,[57:1]\nthat two of these years were spent at La Fl\u00eache, and that he had some\ncommunication with the members of the Jesuits' College there. He says,\n\"It may perhaps amuse you to learn the first hint, which suggested to me\nthat argument which you have so strenuously attacked. I was walking in\nthe cloisters of the Jesuits' College of La Fl\u00eache, a town in which I\npassed two years of my youth, and engaged in a conversation with a\nJesuit of some parts and learning, who was relating to me, and urging\nsome nonsensical miracle performed lately in their convent, when I was\ntempted to dispute against him; and as my head was full of the topics of\nmy Treatise of Human Nature, which I was at that time composing, this\nargument immediately occurred to me, and I thought it very much\ngravelled my companion; but at last he observed to me, that it was\nimpossible for that argument to have any solidity, because it operated\nequally against the Gospel as the Catholic miracles;--which observation\nI thought proper to admit as a sufficient answer. I believe you will\nallow, that the freedom at least of this reasoning makes it somewhat\nextraordinary to have been the produce of a convent of Jesuits, though\nperhaps you may think the sophistry of it savours plainly of the place\nof its birth.\"\n\nThis same Jesuits' College of La Fl\u00eache, is familiar to the\nphilosophical reader as the seminary in which Des Cartes was educated.\nThe place which Hume had just left, has been seen to be associated with\nthe birth and residence of a distinguished opponent of the Cartesian\ntheory. We now find him perfecting his work in that academic solitude,\nwhere Des Cartes himself was educated, and where he formed his theory of\ncommencing with the doubt of previous dogmatic opinions, and framing for\nhimself a new fabric of belief. The coincidence is surely worthy of\nreflective association, and it is perhaps not the least striking\ninstance of Hume's unimaginative nature, that in none of his works,\nprinted or manuscript, do we find an allusion to the circumstance, that\nwhile framing his own theories, he trod the same pavement that had\nupwards of a century earlier borne the weight of one whose fame and\ninfluence on human thought was so much of the same character as he\nhimself panted to attain.\n\nIt is to Hume's early sojourn in France that we must assign the time and\nthe scene of Mackenzie's pleasant fiction, called the \"Story of La\nRoche,\" published in the Mirror of 1779. It is generally admitted that\nthe writer's materials were merely the character and habits of the\nphilosopher, and that there was no groundwork for the narrative in any\nincident that had actually occurred. But the story must be taken as the\nobservations of an acute perception, and a finely adjusted taste, upon\nHume's character; and our reliance on the accuracy of the picture is\nenhanced by the circumstance that Smith, deceived by its air of reality,\nexpressed his wonder that Hume had never told him of the incident.[58:1]\n\nThe opening description is in these words:--\n\n\"More than forty years ago, an English philosopher, whose works have\nsince been read and admired by all Europe, resided at a little town in\nFrance. Some disappointments in his native country had first driven him\nabroad, and he was afterwards induced to remain there, from having found\nin this retreat, where the connexions even of nature and language were\navoided, a perfect seclusion and retirement, highly favourable to the\ndevelopment of abstract subjects, in which he excelled all the writers\nof his time.\n\n\"Perhaps in the structure of such a mind as Mr. ----'s, the fine and\nmore delicate sensibilities are seldom known to have place; or, if\noriginally implanted there, are in a great measure extinguished by the\nexertions of intense study and profound investigation. Hence the idea of\nphilosophy and unfeelingness being united, has become proverbial; and,\nin common language, the former word is often used to express the latter.\nOur philosopher had been censured by some, as deficient in warmth and\nfeeling: but the mildness of his manners has been allowed by all; and it\nis certain, that if he was not easily melted into compassion, it was at\nleast not difficult to awaken his benevolence.\"\n\nThe impression of the actions of a kind, charitable, and tolerant\ndisposition, conveyed by the circumstances of the narrative, cannot be\nrepresented without incorporating it in full; and it will probably be\nthought that one or two passing sketches of character, such as the\nabove, are all that should be taken into a work like the present, from a\nbook accessible to every reader. Thus, when the housekeeper comes with\nthe account of the distresses of the poor protestant clergyman and his\ndaughter:\n\n\"Her master laid aside the volume in his hand, and broke off the chain\nof ideas it had inspired. His night-gown was exchanged for a coat, and\nhe followed his gouvernante to the sick man's apartment.\"\n\nAgain,--\n\n\"La Roche found a degree of simplicity and gentleness in his companion,\nwhich is not always annexed to the character of a learned or a wise man.\nHis daughter, who was prepared to be afraid of him, was equally\nundeceived. She found in him nothing of that self-importance which\nsuperior parts, or great cultivation of them, is apt to confer. He\ntalked of every thing but philosophy or religion; he seemed to enjoy\nevery pleasure and amusement of ordinary life, and to be interested in\nthe most common topics of discourse: when his knowledge or learning at\nany time appeared, it was delivered with the utmost plainness, and\nwithout the least shadow of dogmatism.\"\n\nAnd not less distinctly are the following sentences the echo of\nMackenzie's own observations of the character and habits of the\nphilosopher, that they are put in the varied shape of dialogue and\nnarrative.\n\n\"You regret, my friend,\" said [La Roche,] \"when my daughter and I talk\nof the exquisite pleasure derived from music, you regret your want of\nmusical powers and musical feelings; it is a department of soul, you\nsay, which nature has almost denied you, which, from the effects you see\nit have on others, you are sure must be highly delightful. Why should\nnot the same thing be said of religion? Trust me, I feel it in the same\nway, an energy, an inspiration, which I would not lose for all the\nblessings of sense or enjoyments of the world. . . . . . And it would\nhave been inhuman in our philosopher to have clouded, even with a doubt,\nthe sunshine of this belief.\n\n\"His discourse was very remote from metaphysical disquisition or\nreligious controversy. Of all men I ever knew, his ordinary conversation\nwas the least tinctured with pedantry or liable to dissertation. With La\nRoche and his daughter it was perfectly familiar. The country round\nthem, the manners of the villagers, the comparison of both with those of\nEngland, remarks on the works of favourite authors, or the sentiments\nthey conveyed, and the passions they excited, with many other topics in\nwhich there was an equality, or alternate advantage among the speakers,\nwere the subjects they talked on.\"\n\nNor can one, after having quoted so much, avoid giving the concluding\nsentence, in which the philosopher contemplates the old clergyman's\ngrief for the loss of his daughter, and at the same time that he\nperceives its bitterness and intensity, is made aware of the\nconsolations which the bereaved old man finds in religion, and \"rejoices\nthat such consolation\" is his.\n\n\"Mr. ----'s heart was smitten; and I have heard him long after confess,\nthat there were moments when the remembrance overcame him even to\nweakness; when, amidst all the pleasures of philosophical discovery, and\nthe pride of literary fame, he recalled to his mind the venerable figure\nof the good La Roche, and wished that he had never doubted.\"\n\nThe account of his sojourn in France is thus given in his \"own\nlife:\"--\"During my retreat in France, first at Rheims, but chiefly at La\nFl\u00eache, in Anjou, I composed my 'Treatise of Human Nature.' After\npassing three years very agreeably in that country, I came over to\nLondon in 1737.\"\n\nWe must now follow him to London, where we find him occupied in carrying\nhis \"Treatise of Human Nature,\" through the press. One of his early\nfriends was his namesake Henry Home, afterwards Lord Kames, who\npursued, but with unequal step, the same path with himself. Home was\nfifteen years the elder of the two, and had joined the bar in 1723. He\nhad already published some of his professional works; but it was at a\nsubsequent period of his life, and when he perhaps became emulous of the\nfame of his friend, that he attempted works in ethics, metaphysics, and\ncriticism. During many years of continued intimacy, these two\ndistinguished men enjoyed each other's mutual respect; but, in their\nearly intercourse, when his senior had for some time occupied a\nprominent position in the eye of the public, we naturally find Hume\nwriting about his great project in a tone of modest deference.\n\n\nHUME _to_ HENRY HOME.\n\n\"_London, December 2, 1737._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am sorry I am not able to satisfy your curiosity by giving\nyou some general notion of the plan upon which I proceed. But my\nopinions are so new, and even some terms I am obliged to make use of,\nthat I could not propose, by any abridgment, to give my system an air of\nlikelihood, or so much as make it intelligible. It is a thing I have in\nvain attempted already, at a gentleman's request in this place, who\nthought it would help him to comprehend and judge of my notions, if he\nsaw them all at once before him. I have had a greater desire of\ncommunicating to you the plan of the whole, that I believe it will not\nappear in public before the beginning of next winter. For, besides that\nit would be difficult to have it printed before the rising of the\nparliament, I must confess I am not ill pleased with a little delay,\nthat it may appear with as few imperfections as possible. I have been\nhere near three months, always within a week of agreeing with my\nprinters; and you may imagine I did not forget the work itself during\nthat time, where I began to feel some passages weaker for the style and\ndiction than I could have wished. The nearness and greatness of the\nevent roused up my attention, and made me more difficult to please, than\nwhen I was alone in perfect tranquillity in France. But here I must tell\nyou one of my foibles. I have a great inclination to go down to Scotland\nthis spring to see my friends; and have your advice concerning my\nphilosophical discoveries; but cannot overcome a certain shamefacedness\nI have to appear among you at my years, without having yet a settlement,\nor so much as attempted any. How happens it that we philosophers cannot\nas heartily despise the world as it despises us? I think in my\nconscience the contempt were as well founded on our side as on the\nother.\n\n\"Having a franked letter, I was resolved to make use of it; and\naccordingly enclose some '_Reasonings concerning Miracles_,'[63:1] which\nI once thought of publishing with the rest, but which I am afraid will\ngive too much offence, even as the world is disposed at present. There\nis something in the turn of thought, and a good deal in the turn of\nexpression, which will not perhaps appear so proper, for want of knowing\nthe context: but the force of the argument you'll be judge of, as it\nstands. Tell me your thoughts of it. Is not the style too diffuse?\nthough, as that was a popular argument, I have spread it out much more\nthan the other parts of the work. I beg of you to show it to nobody,\nexcept to Mr. Hamilton, if he pleases; and let me know at your leisure\nthat you have received it, read it, and burnt it. Your thoughts and mine\nagree with respect to Dr. Butler, and I would be glad to be introduced\nto him. I am at present castrating my work, that is, cutting off its\nnobler parts; that is, endeavouring it shall give as little offence as\npossible, before which, I could not pretend to put it into the Doctor's\nhands. This is a piece of cowardice, for which I blame myself, though I\nbelieve none of my friends will blame me. But I was resolved not to be\nan enthusiast in philosophy, while I was blaming other enthusiasms. If\never I indulge myself in any, 'twill be when I tell you that I am, dear\nSir, yours.\"[64:1]\n\n\nButler, to whom Hume is thus found desiring an introduction, had, in the\nimmediately preceding year, published \"The Analogy of Religion, Natural\nand Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature;\" and it appears\nthat Hume courted the attention of the author of that clear logical work\nto those speculations of his own, which, in the opinion of the world in\ngeneral, have so opposite a tendency to that of the \"Analogy.\" The\nfollowing letter, acknowledging an introduction from Home, and dated 4th\nMarch, 1738, tells its own tale.\n\n\n\"I shall not trouble you with any formal compliments or thanks, which\nwould be but an ill return for the kindness you have done me in writing\nin my behalf, to one you are so little acquainted with as Dr. Butler;\nand, I am afraid, stretching the truth in favour of a friend. I have\ncalled upon the Doctor, with a design of delivering him your letter,\nbut find he is at present in the country. I am a little anxious to have\nthe Doctor's opinion. My own I dare not trust to; both because it\nconcerns myself, and because it is so variable, that I know not how to\nfix it. Sometimes it elevates me above the clouds; at other times, it\ndepresses me with doubts and fears; so that, whatever be my success, I\ncannot be entirely disappointed. Somebody has told me that you might\nperhaps be in London this spring. I should esteem this a very lucky\nevent; and notwithstanding all the pleasures of the town, I would\ncertainly engage you to pass some philosophical evenings with me, and\neither correct my judgment, where you differ from me, or confirm it\nwhere we agree. I believe I have some need of the one, as well as the\nother; and though the propensity to diffidence be an error on the better\nside, yet 'tis an error, and dangerous as well as disagreeable.--I am,\n&c.\n\n\"I lodge at present in the Rainbow Coffeehouse, Lancaster Court.\"[65:1]\n\n\nThe transactions between authors and booksellers are seldom accompanied\nby any formidable array of legal formalities; but Hume and his\npublishers seem to have thought it necessary to bind each other in the\nmost stringent manner, to the performance of their respective\nobligations, by \"articles of agreement, made, concluded, and agreed,\nupon the 26th day of September, in the year of our Lord one thousand\nseven hundred and thirty-eight, and in the twelfth year of the reign of\nour sovereign lord King George the Second,--between David Hume of\nLancaster Court of the one part, and John Noone of Cheapside, London,\nbookseller, of the other part.\" By this very precise document, it is\nprovided, that \"the said David Hume shall and will permit and suffer the\nsaid John Noone to have, hold, and enjoy, the sole property, benefit,\nand advantage of printing and publishing the first edition of the said\nbook, not exceeding one thousand copies thereof.\" The author, in return,\nreceives \u00a350, and twelve bound copies of the book.[66:1] The transaction\nis on the whole creditable to the discernment and liberality of Mr.\nNoone. It may be questioned, whether, in this age, when knowledge has\nspread so much wider, and money is so much less valuable, it would be\neasy to find a bookseller, who, on the ground of its internal merits,\nwould give \u00a350 for an edition of a new metaphysical work, by an unknown\nand young author, born and brought up in a remote part of the empire.\nThese articles refer to the first and second of the three volumes of the\n\"Treatise of Human Nature;\" and they were accordingly published in\nJanuary, 1739. They include \"Book I. Of the Understanding,\" and \"Book\nII. Of the Passions.\"\n\nIt has been generally and justly remarked, that the Treatise is among\nthe least systematic of philosophical works--that it has neither a\ndefinite and comprehensive plan, nor a logical arrangement. It was,\nindeed, so utterly deficient in the former--there was so complete a want\nof any projected scope of subject which the author was bound to exhaust\nin what he wrote--that an attempt to divide and subdivide the matter\nafter it had been written, according to a logical arrangement, would\nonly, as a sort of _experimentum crucis_, have exposed the imperfect\ncharacter of the original plan. The author, therefore, very discreetly\nallowed his matter to be arranged as the subjects of which he treated\nhad respectively suggested themselves, and bestowed on his work a title\nrather general than comprehensive,--a title, of which all that can be\nsaid of its aptness to the subject is, that no part of his book can be\nsaid to be wholly without it, while he might have included an almost\nincalculable multitude of other subjects within it. He called it simply\n\"A Treatise of Human Nature;\" and by a subsidiary title, explanatory\nrather of his method than definitive of his matter, he called it \"an\nattempt to introduce the experimental method of reasoning into moral\nsubjects.\"\n\nThe purely metaphysical,[67:1] and, at the same time, the most original\nportion of the work, and that which has most conspicuously rendered\nitself a constituent part of the literature of intellectual philosophy,\nis \"Book I. Of the Understanding.\" \"Book II. Of the Passions,\" contains\nmixed metaphysics and ethics, with occasional notices of phenomena,\nwhich, though Hume does not, other writers would be likely to connect\nwith physiological inquiries. The third book, \"Of Virtue and Vice in\nGeneral,\" published a year later, is of an ethical character, being an\ninquiry into the origin and proper system of morals, and an application\nof the system to government and politics.\n\nThe \"Treatise of Human Nature\" afforded materials for the criticism of\ntwo very distinct classes of writers. The one consisted of men imbued\nwith a spirit of inquiry kindred to that of Hume, and a genius capable\nof appreciating his services in the cause of truth; who, as the teachers\nof systems of which they were themselves the architects, had to attack\nor to defend the principles promulgated in the Treatise, according as\nthese differed from or corresponded with their own. It is in the\nwritings of these men that the true immortality of Hume as a philosopher\nconsists. Whether they find in him great truths to acknowledge, or\nsubtle and plausible errors to attack, they are the vital evidence of\nthe originality of his work, of the genius that inspired it, and of its\ngreat influence on human thought and action. The other class of critics\nare those who, in pamphlets, or works more ambitious but not rising in\nreal solidity above that fugitive class, or in occasional digressions\nfrom other topics, have endeavoured to prejudice the minds of their\nreaders against the principles of the Treatise, by exaggeration, or by\nthe misapplication of their metaphysical doctrines to the proceedings of\nevery-day life,--a set of literary efforts of quick production and as\nquick decay.\n\nTo the former class of authors, it is of course not within the scope of\nthe present writer's ambition to belong, and he sees no occasion to\nattempt to imitate the latter. In a work, however, which professes to\ngive a life of David Hume, it is necessary to say something about the\n\"Treatise of Human Nature;\" and as a preliminary to such an attempt, it\nmay be well to mark the boundaries within which the writer conceives\nthat the duty he has assumed calls on him for a description of the work,\nneither impugning nor defending any of the opinions it sets forth.\n\nIt seems to be right that some attempt should be made to describe the\ncharacter and strength of the author's intellect, and the method of its\noperations; and to give a view of the fundamental characteristic\nprinciples by which he professes to distinguish his own philosophy from\nthat of other writers on metaphysical subjects. An attempt should also\nbe made to tell in what respect Hume has made incidental suggestions\nwhich have either been admitted as new truths in metaphysics, or have,\nas original but perhaps fallacious suggestions, afforded to other\nthinkers the means of establishing truths. These being the general\nobjects to be kept in view, there is no intention to take them in any\nprecise order, or to exhaust them in remarks on this one work. To\nattempt an analysis of the work would be out of place. There can be no\nmore repulsive matter for reading than condensed metaphysics; and\nprobably there is nothing less instructive than those abridgments,\nwhich, necessarily suppressing the author's discursive arguments, appeal\nalmost entirely to the memory. To seize on and give a descriptive rather\nthan an analytical account of the prominent features of the system, will\nbe the chief aim of these remarks. Moreover, the Treatise bears on\nsubjects which are nearly all recalled in its author's subsequent works;\nand while there are some things in the critical history of Hume's\nopinions which may be appropriately viewed in connexion with his first\npublication, there are others which it may be more expedient to examine\nwhen he is found reconsidering the subjects in his later works; and\nagain, others which may be viewed in a general attempt to describe the\nextent of his literary achievements.\n\nThe Treatise has been already spoken of as embracing two great objects,\nmetaphysics and ethics; or three, if politics be considered as distinct\nfrom ethics. The great leading principle of the metaphysical department,\nand a principle which is never lost sight of in any part of the book,\nis, that the materials on which intellect works are the _impressions_\nwhich represent immediate sensation, whether externally as by the\nsenses, or internally as by the passions, and _ideas_ which are the\nfaint reflections of these impressions. Thus to speak colloquially, when\nI see a picture, or when I am angry with some one, there is an\n_impression_; but when I think about this picture in its absence, or\ncall to recollection my subsided anger, what exists in either case is an\n_idea_. Hume looked from words to that which they signified, and he\nfound that where they signified any thing, it must be found among the\nthings that either are or have been impressions. The whole varied and\ncomplex system of intellectual machinery he found occupied in the\nrepresentation, the combination, or the arrangement of these raw\nmaterials of intellectual matter. If I say I see an object, I give\nexpression to the fact, that a certain impression is made on the retina\nof my eye. If I convey to the person I am speaking to an accurate notion\nof what I mean, I awaken in his mind ideas left there by previous\nimpressions, brought thither by his sense of sight.[70:1] Thus, in the\nparticular case of the external senses, when they are considered as in\ndirect communication between the mind and any object, there are\nimpressions: when the senses are not said to be in communication with\nthe object, the operations of the mind in connexion with it, are from\nvestiges which the impressions have left on the mind; and these vestiges\nare called ideas, and are always more faint than the original\nimpressions themselves. And a material circumstance to be kept in view\nat the very threshold of the system is, that there is no specific and\ndistinct line drawn between impressions and ideas. Their difference is\nin degree merely--the former are stronger, the latter weaker. There is\nno difference in kind; and there is sometimes doubt whether that which\nis supposed to be an impression may not be a vivid idea, and that which\nis supposed to be an idea a faint impression.\n\nWhen Hume examined, with more and more minuteness, the elements of the\nmaterials on which the mind works, he could still find nothing but these\nimpressions and ideas. Looking at language as a machinery for giving\nexpression to thought, he thus established for himself a test of its\nadaptation to its right use,--a test for discovering whether in any\ngiven case it really served the purpose of language, or was a mere\nunmeaning sound. As he found that there was nothing on which thought\ncould operate but the impressions received through sensation, or the\nideas left by them, he considered that a word which had not a meaning to\nbe found in either of these things, had no meaning at all. He looked\nupon ideas as the goods with which the mind was stored; and on these\nstores, as being of the character of impressions, while they were in the\nstate of coming into the mind. When any one, then, in reasoning, or any\nother kind of literature, spoke of any thing as existing, the principle\nof his theory was, that this storehouse of idealized impressions should\nbe searched for one corresponding to the term made use of. If such an\nimpression were not found, the word was, so far as our human faculties\nwere concerned, an unmeaning one. Whether there was any existence\ncorresponding to its meaning, no one could say: all that the sceptical\nphilosopher could decide was, that, so far as human intellect was put in\npossession of materials for thought, it had nothing to warrant it in\nsaying, that this word represented any thing of which that intellect had\ncognizance.\n\nThis limitation of the material put at the disposal of the mind, was\nlargely illustrated in the course of the work; and the illustrations\nassumed some such character as this:--Imaginative writers present us\nwith descriptions of things which never, within our own experience, have\nexisted,--of things which, we believe, never have had existence. Yet,\nhowever fantastic and heterogeneous may be the representations thus\npresented to our notice, there is no one part, of which we form a\nconception, that is any thing more than a new arrangement of ideas that\nhave been left in the mind by impressions deposited there by sensation.\nThe most extravagant of eastern or classical fictions there find their\nelements. If it be a three-headed dog, a winged horse, a fiery dragon,\nor a golden palace, that is spoken of, the reader who forms a conception\nof the narrative puts it together with the ideas left in his mind by\nimpressions conveyed through the external senses. If a spectre is said\nto be raised, it may be spoken of as not denser than the atmosphere, yet\nthe attributes that bring a conception of it to the intellect are the\nform and proportions of a human being,--expression, action, and\nhabiliments: all elements the ideas of which the mind has received\nthrough the impressions of the senses. If words were used in a book of\nfiction which did not admit of being thus realized by the mind putting\ntogether a corresponding portion of the ideas stored up within\nit--supplying, as it were, the described costume from this\nwardrobe--then, according to Hume's philosophy, the word would be a\nsound without meaning. He maintained a like rule as to books of\nphilosophy. If the authors used terms which were not thus represented in\nthe storehouse of the matter of thought and language, they were not\nreasoning on what they knew; they were not using words as the signs of\nthings signified, but printing unmeaning collections of letters, or\nuttering senseless sounds.\n\nThe system, if it were to be classed under the old metaphysical\ndivisions, was one of nominalism. Such words as shape, colour, hardness,\nroughness, &c. the author of the Treatise could only admit to have a\nmeaning in as far as they signified ideas in the mind; and these ideas\ncould only be there as the relics of impressions derived through the\nsenses. Thus, general terms, such as the categories of Aristotle, could\nhave no existence except in so far as they represented and called up\nparticulars. Of the abstract term colour, our notion is derived solely\nfrom the ideas left in the mind by the actual impressions made through\nthe senses. Heat, cold, and largeness, so far as these words represent\nwhat is really in the mind, have no other foundation.\n\nThe application of this system to the mathematics, and to natural\nphilosophy, was so startling as to afford to some readers almost a\n_reductio ad absurdum_. The infinite divisibility of matter was\narraigned by Hume as so far from being a truth, that it was not even\ncapable of being conceived by the mind, which had never yet received any\nimpressions through the senses corresponding to the expression. Every\nman had seen matter divided--some into smaller fragments than others;\nbut where our ideas, derived from actual experiment, stopped in\nminuteness of division, the conception of divisibility stopped also. The\ntruth of geometrical demonstration, as applicable to practice, he did\nnot deny; but he maintained, or rather seemed to maintain, for his\nreasoning here is of a highly subtle order, that we have a conception of\nthese operations only in as far as they concur with really existing\nthings, or, more properly speaking, with the ideas in the mind conveyed\nthither by the senses. Of the point, which has no breadth, depth, or\nlength; of the straight line, which is deficient in the first and\nsecond, and not in the last of these qualities, he denied that we could\nhave an idea, unless that idea were just as much the representative of\nan actual existence as any other idea is.\n\nInfinity of space was an expression to which he had an objection on\nsimilar grounds; it had no idea corresponding to it lodged in the mind.\nOf space finite in various quantities, the mind possessed ideas stored\nup from repeated impressions, and by adding these ideas together, more\nor less vastness in the conception of finite space was afforded. But any\nthing beyond this definitive increase, attested as it was by the senses,\nthe mind had no means of conceiving. Whatever might be in another\nintellectual world, there was no idea corresponding to infinity of space\nin the mind of man. It thence followed, that space unoccupied was a\nconception of which the mind was incapable, because the impressions\noriginally conveyed to the mind were the medium through which the\nconception of space existed, and where there were no ideas of such\nimpressions, an aggregate idea of space was wanting. In the same manner\nit was held, that it was in a succession of impressions, with ideas\ncorresponding, that the conception of time consisted, and that without\nsuch a succession, time would be a thing unknown and unconceived. Our\nideas of numbers he found to be but the collected ideas of the\nimpressions of the units of which the senses have received distinct\nimpressions; and in confirmation of this he appealed to the distinctness\nof our notion of small numbers, which our mind has been accustomed to\nfind represented by units, and our imperfect conception of those large\nnumbers, which we have never had presented to us in detail. How readily\nwe have a notion of six, but how imperfectly the mind receives the\nconception of six millions; how clearly we perceive, in units, the\ndifference between six and twelve, but how imperfect is our notion of\nthe difference between six millions and twelve millions.[75:1]\n\nAll human consciousness being of these two materials, impressions and\nideas, the answer to the question, What knowledge have we of an external\nworld, resolved itself into this, that there were certain impressions\nand ideas which we supposed to relate to it--further we knew not. When\nwe turn, according to this theory, from the external world, and, looking\ninto ourselves, ask what certainty we have of separate self-existence,\nwe find but a string of impressions and ideas, and we have no means of\nlinking these together into any notion of a continuous existence. Such\nis that boasted thing the human intellect, when its elements are\nsearched out by a rigid application of the sceptical philosophy of Hume.\nNot a thing separate and self-existent, which was, and is, and shall\ncontinue; but a succession of mere separate entities, called in one view\nimpressions, in another ideas.[76:1]\n\nIt may make this brief sketch more clear, to notice a circumstance in\nthe history of philosophy, which, perhaps, serves better in an\nincidental manner to mark the boundaries of the field of Hume's inquiry,\nthan many pages of discursive description. The transcendentalists took\nhim up as having examined the materials solely, on which pure reason\noperates; not pure reason itself. They said that he had examined the\nclasses of matter which come before the judge, but had omitted to\ndescribe the judge himself, the extent of his jurisdiction, and his\nmethod of enforcing it. They maintained, that all these things, which\nwith Hume appeared to be the constituent elements of philosophy, were\nnothing but the materials on which philosophy works,--that to presume\nthem to be of service presupposed a reason which could make use of\nthem,--that Hume himself, while thus speculating and telling us that his\nmind consisted but of a string of ideas, left behind by certain\nimpressions, was himself making use of that pure reason which was in him\nbefore the ideas or impressions existed, and was through that power\nadapting the impressions and ideas to use. He characterized his system\nas \"an attempt to introduce the experimental method of reasoning into\nmoral subjects:\" but they said that there was another and a preliminary\nmatter of inquiry--the faculty, to speak popularly, which suggested what\nexperiments should be made, and judged of their results.\n\nHume may be found indirectly lamenting the fate of his own work on\nmetaphysics, in his remarks on other works of a kindred character; and\nin these criticisms we have a clue to the expectations he had formed. In\nhis well-known rapid criticism on the literature of the epoch of the\ncivil wars, he says of Hobbes: \"No author in that age was more\ncelebrated both abroad and at home than Hobbes. In our times, he is much\nneglected: a lively instance how precarious all reputations founded on\nreasoning and philosophy! A pleasant comedy which paints the manners of\nthe age, and exposes a faithful picture of nature, is a durable work,\nand is transmitted to the latest posterity. But a system, whether\nphysical or metaphysical, owes commonly its success to its novelty; and\nis no sooner canvassed with impartiality, than its weakness is\ndiscovered.\"\n\nLike the majority of literary prophecies dictated by feeling and not by\nimpartial criticism, this one, whether as it refers to \"The Leviathan,\"\nof which it is ostensibly uttered, or to the \"Treatise of Human Nature,\"\nthe fate of which doubtless suggested it, has proved untrue. The\ninfluence of Hobbes has revived, as that of the Treatise remained\nundiminished from the time when it was first fully appreciated. And in\nboth cases their influence has arisen from that element which seems\nalone to be capable of giving permanent value to metaphysical thought.\nIt is not that in either case the fundamental theory of the author is\nadopted, as the disciples of old imbibed the system of their masters,\nbut that each has started some novelties in thought, and, either by\nthemselves sweeping away prevailing fallacies, or suggesting to others\nthe means of doing so, have cleared the path of philosophy. As a general\nsystem, the philosophy of Hobbes has been perhaps most completely\nrejected at those times when its incidental discoveries and suggestions\nmade it most serviceable to philosophy, and were the cause of its being\nmost highly esteemed. \"Harm I can do none,\" says Hobbes, when speaking\nof the metaphysicians who preceded him, \"though I err not less than\nthey, for I leave men but as they are, in doubt and dispute.\" There is\nindeed nothing in the later history of metaphysical writing to show that\nthe triumphs in that department of thought are to stretch beyond the\nestablishment of incidental truths, the removal of fallacies, and the\nsuggestion of theories that may teach men to think. The field is a\nrepublic: incidental merit has its praise, and is allowed its\npre-eminence; but no one mind, it may safely be pronounced, holds in it\nthat monarchical sway which Adam Smith retains over the empire of\npolitical economy. The ancient systems anterior to Christianity allowed\nof such empire. The pupil did not follow his master merely in this and\nthat incidental truth developed, but adopted the system in all its\ndetails and proportions as his system and his creed. In later times it\nwould probably be found that the most devoted admirers of great writers\non metaphysics do not adopt their opinions in the mass; and it seems\nthat men must now go elsewhere than to the produce of human reason, for\nthe grand leading principles of the philosophy of belief and disbelief.\n\nTo those who hold that the writings of the great metaphysicians are thus\nto be esteemed on account, not of their fundamental principles, but of\nthe truths they bring out in detail, a new theory is like a new road\nthrough an unfrequented country, valuable, not for itself, but for the\nscenery which it opens up to the traveller's eye. The thinker who adopts\nthis view, often wonders at the small beginnings of philosophical\nsystems--wonders, perhaps, at the circumstance of Kant having believed\nthat his own system started into life at one moment as he was reading\nHume's views of Cause and Effect. But the solution is ready at hand. We\nfeel that the philosopher of K\u00f6nigsberg had in his mind the impulses\nthat would have driven him into a new path had no Hume preceded him. We\nowe it to the Essay on Cause and Effect that it was the starting-point\nat which he left the beaten track; but, had it not attracted his\nattention, his path would have been as original, though not, perhaps, in\nthe same direction. And so of Hume himself. If the main outline of his\ntheory had never occurred to him, he would still have been a great\nphilosopher; for in some form or other he would have found his way to\nthose incidental and subsidiary discoveries, which are admitted to have\nreality in them by many who repudiate his general theory.\n\nOf all the secondary applications of the leading principle of the\nTreatise, none has perhaps exercised so extensive an influence on\nphilosophy, as this same doctrine of cause and effect. Looking to those\nseparate phenomena, of which in common language we call the one the\ncause of the other, and the other the effect of that cause, he could see\nno other connexion between them than that the latter immediately\nfollowed the former. He found that the mind, proceeding on the inductive\nsystem, when it repeatedly saw two phenomena thus conjoined, expected,\nwhen that which had been in use to precede the other made its\nappearance, that the other would follow; and he found that by repeated\nexperiment this expectation might be so far strengthened, that people\nwere ready to stake their most important temporal interests on the\noccurrence of the phenomenon called the effect, when that called the\ncause had taken place. But if there were any thing else but this\nconjunction, of which a knowledge was demanded--if the unsatisfied\ninvestigator sought for some power in the one phenomenon which enabled\nit to be the fabricator of the other--the sceptical reasoner would\nanswer, that for all he could say to the contrary such a thing might be,\nbut he had no clue to that knowledge--no impression of any such quality\npassed into his intellect through sensation--his mind had no material\ncommitted to it by which the existence or non-existence of any such\nthing could be argued.\n\nThe vulgar notion of this theory was, that it destroyed all our notions\nof regularity and system in the order of nature; that it made no\nprovision for unseen causes, and contemplated only the application of\nthe doctrines of cause and effect to things which were palpably seen\nfollowing each other. But the inventor of the theory never questioned\nthe regularity of the operations of nature as established by the\ninductive philosophy; he only endeavoured to show how far and within\nwhat limits we could acquire a cognizance of the machinery of that\nregularity. He denied not that when the spark was applied, the gunpowder\nwould ignite, or that when the ball was dropped, it would proceed to the\nearth with the accelerated motion of gravitation; but he denied that we\ncould see any other connexion between the cause and effect in either\ncase, than that of uniform sequence. When it was scientifically adopted,\nthe theory was found to be productive of the most important results. The\nview that when any effect was observed, that phenomenon which was most\nuniform in its precedence was the one entitled to be termed the cause,\nwas a salutary incentive to close and patient investigation, by laying\nbefore the philosopher the simple, numerical question--what was that\nphenomenon which, by the uniformity of its precedence, was entitled to\nbe termed the cause?[81:1] The test became of the simplest kind; and, if\nthe experimentalist had at a particular time considered some phenomenon\nas a cause,--if the farther progress of patient and unprejudiced inquiry\nshowed that another, by the occurrence of instances in which it\npreceded the effect while the former did not, had a preferable title to\nbe termed the cause, the mind in its unbiassed estimate of numbers at\nonce admitted the claim. But when, according to the antagonist\nsystem,[82:1] it became settled that any given phenomenon had in it the\npower of bringing into existence another, that power was viewed as a\nquality of the object. When things are admitted to have qualities, it is\nnot easy for the mind at once to assent to their non-existence and to\nadmit that others have the proper title to these qualities. Analogy, the\ngreat source of fallacies, comes to increase the difficulty, by a\nconfusion of what are termed the qualities of bodies, and those\nendowments with which we invest our fellow-creatures. In this respect\nHume's theory of cause and effect has been of great service to inductive\nphilosophy.\n\nIt was an objection to it that it made no allowance for unseen causes;\nbut it was part of its author's system, that the uniformity which our\nobservation teaches us, proceeds unseen in those cases to which our\nobservation cannot penetrate. It was part of the theory, that where\nthere is a want of the absolute uniformity in the sequence of two\nphenomena, they are not respectively cause and effect. This principle is\nof vital importance in physical science. It is a notion with the vulgar,\nand one that sometimes perhaps lurks unseen in scientific operations,\nthat the cause sometimes does not produce its effect by reason of some\nfailure in the operating power. It is from a vague amplification of this\nheresy, that the popular notion of chance is derived. Hume's theory\nnips the bud of such a fallacy by denying, whenever there is a break in\nthe sequence, that the phenomena which have in other instances followed\neach other, really are cause and effect. It is perhaps in the\nunscientific application of therapeutics, that the popular fallacy is\nmost widely and most dangerously exemplified. The whole of the\ncomplexity of that wondrous science consists in the immediate causes and\neffects being unseen--in the phenomena immediately conjoined not being\nascertained, but in attempts being made to estimate them through the\nconnexion between those external causes to which the internal causes may\nhave had the relation of effects, and those external effects of which\nthese internal effects may have been the causes. The character of unseen\ncauses was aptly illustrated by Hume himself, from the throwing of a\ndie. The vulgar mind can see no cause and effect in the operation,\nbecause there is a series of causes and effects, which are hidden from\nthe sight, in the interior of the box; but the philosopher knows not the\nless, that those laws of motion, which induction has established to him\nas truths, are taking place; and that there is no turn made by the die,\nwhich is not as much the effect of some cause, as the turning of the\nhands of a watch, or the parallel motion in a steam engine.\n\nIt is one of the peculiar features of the history of mental philosophy,\nthat there is scarcely ever a new principle, associated with the name of\na great author, but it is shown that it has been anticipated, in some\noracular sentence, probably by an obscure writer. Joseph Glanvill is\npretty well known as the author of \"Saducismus Triumphatus,\" a\nvindication of the belief in witches and apparitions, which must have\nbeen perused by all the curious in this species of lore. Glanvill was\nthe author of various tracts on biblical subjects, but it was not\ngenerally known that he wrote a book on sceptical philosophy, called\n\"Scepsis Scientifica, or, Confest Ignorance the Way to Science,\" until\nit was unearthed by the persevering inquiries of Mr. Hallam. In that\nbook there is the passage, \"all knowledge of causes is _deductive_, for\nwe know none by simple intuition, but through the medium of their\neffects; so that we cannot conclude any thing to be the cause of another\nbut from its continual accompanying it, for the causality itself is\n_insensible_.\"[84:1] This is an addition to the many instances where\nwriters have almost, as it were by chance, laid down principles, of\nwhich they show, by neglecting to follow them to their legitimate\nconclusions, that they have not understood their full meaning; if it do\nnot rather illustrate the view already noticed, that in metaphysics our\nassent is secured, not to general propositions as such, but to their\nparticular applications; and that it is not in the laying down of first\nprinciples that important truths are exhibited to the world, but in\nthose subsidiary expositions by which the discoverer endeavours to show\ntheir application.\n\nThe subsequent history of Hume's theory of Cause and Effect, is a marked\nillustration of the danger of bringing forward as an argument against\ntheories purely metaphysical, the statement that they are dangerous to\nreligion. It is difficult to see where there is a difference between\nadducing that argument in the sphere of natural philosophy, from which\nit has been long scouted by common consent, and bringing it forward as\nan answer to the theories of the metaphysician. In either case it is a\nthreat, which, in the days of Galileo, bore the terror of corporal\npunishment, and in the present day carries the threat of unpopularity,\nto the person against whom it is used.[86:1] If any one should suppose\nthat he finds lurking in the speculations of some metaphysical writer,\nopinions from which it may be inferred that he is not possessed of the\nhopes and consolations of the Christian, humanity to the unhappy author\nshould suggest that he ought rather to be pitied than condemned, and\nrespect for the religious feelings of others should teach that there is\nno occasion to endeavour, by a laborious pleading, to demonstrate that a\nman who has said nothing against religion is in reality an enemy to\nChristianity. They are surely no enlightened friends to religion, who\nmaintain that the suppression of inquiry as to the material or the\nimmaterial world, is favourable to the cause of revealed truth. The\nblasphemer who raises his voice offensively and contentiously against\nwhat his fellow citizens hold sacred, invokes the public wrath, and is\nno just object of sympathy. The extent of his punishment is regretted\nonly when, by its vindictive excess, it is liable to excite retaliatory\nattacks from the same quarter. But the speculative philosopher, who does\nnot directly interfere with the religion of his neighbours, should be\nleft to the peaceful pursuit of his inquiries; and those who, instead of\nmeeting him by fair argument, cry out irreligion, and call in the mob to\ntheir aid, should reflect first, whether it is absolutely certain that\nthey are right in their conclusion, that his inquiries, if carried out,\nwould be inimical to religion--whether some mind more acute and\nphilosophical than their own, may not either finally confute the\nsceptical philosopher's argument, or prove that it is not inimical to\nreligion; and secondly, whether they are not likely to be themselves the\ngreatest foes to religion, by holding that it requires such defence, and\nthe practical blasphemers, by proclaiming that religion is in danger?\n\nKant, the most illustrious opponent of Hume, in allusion to those who\nhave appealed against him to our religious feelings, asks, what the man\nis doing that we should meddle with him; says he is but trying the\nstrength of human reason, and bids us leave him to combat with those who\nare giving him specimens of the fabric on which to try his skill--tells\nus to wait and see who will produce one too strong to be broken to\npieces--and not cry treason, and appeal to the angry multitude, who are\nstrangers to these refined reasonings, to rush in. Shall we ask reason\nto give us lights, and prescribe beforehand what they are to show\nus?[88:1] \"The observation of human blindness and weakness,\" says Hume\nhimself, \"is the result of all philosophy, and meets us at every turn,\nin spite of our endeavours to elude or avoid it.\" A solemn saying, and\ncharacteristic of one who has done more than any other man to show the\nfeebleness of poor human reason, and to teach man that he is not all\nsufficient to himself.\n\nThose revelations in astronomy and geology, the first glimmerings of\nwhich made the timid if not doubting friends of their cause tremble,\nhave enlarged year by year in rapid progression; but revealed religion\nis not less firm on her throne; and many of those who held that Hume's\ntheory of Cause and Effect was inimical to revelation, lived to see how\nstartlingly that argument could be turned against themselves. It has\nbeen well observed by Dugald Stewart, that this theory is the most\neffectual confutation of the gloomy materialism of Spinoza, \"as it lays\nthe axe to the very root from which Spinozism springs.\" \"The cardinal\nprinciple,\" he says, \"on which the whole of that system turns is, that\nall events, physical and moral, are _necessarily_ linked together as\ncauses and effects; from which principle all the most alarming\nconclusions adopted by Spinoza follow as unavoidable and manifest\ncorollaries. But if it be true, as Mr. Hume contends, and as most\nphilosophers now admit, that physical causes and effects are known to us\nmerely as _antecedents_ and _consequents_; still more if it be true that\nthe word _necessity_, as employed in this discussion, is altogether\nunmeaning and insignificant, the whole system of Spinoza is nothing\nbetter than a rope of sand, and the very proposition which it professes\nto demonstrate is incomprehensible by our faculties.\"[89:1]\n\nIt will be remembered how signally, in the question in the General\nAssembly of the Church of Scotland, as to Sir John Leslie's\nprofessorship, the argument of irreligion was retaliated; and it was\nshown that, in the theory of an existing machinery in nature enabling\nthe universe to proceed in its regular course, the cause having within\nit the adequate power for producing its effect, the omnipresence of a\nDeity was dispensed with, and there was substituted for the\nall-pervading influence of a superior wisdom, a mere material machine,\nhaving within itself the elements of its own regular motion. Thus, in\ninstances where writers have claimed credit for having aided the cause\nof religion by carrying out the principles of natural theology, this\nmerit has in many cases, and among certain classes of devout religious\nthinkers, been sternly denied them; and it has been said that their\nlabours are rather adverse than favourable to revealed religion,\nbecause, through their tendency to make people believe in an established\norder in nature, by which causes produce their effects according to a\nfixed system, they have the effect of making mankind forget the\nexistence of a revealed, omnipresent Deity, whose all-competent\nsuperintendence regulates the world, and they supply a religion\nindependent of the religion of revelation.\n\nPerhaps in this little history we may find an illustration of the view,\nthat the greatest service which the Treatise has done to philosophy is\nthat purely incidental one of teaching human reason its own weakness--of\nshowing how easily the noblest fabric of human thought may be\nundermined, by a destroying agency of power not greater than that of the\nconstructive genius which has raised it. In this respect it has done to\nphilosophy the invaluable service of teaching philosophers their own\nfallibility. In all the departments of thought, and not only in the\nworld of thought but in that of action, the spirit of human\ninfallibility is the greatest obstacle to truth and goodness. Whether it\nappear to protect a system which the thinker has framed for himself, or\nassume the more modest shape of maintaining, that among conflicting\nsystems he has made choice of that which is absolutely and certainly\nright, while all others which in any way differ from it are as\nabsolutely and certainly wrong; this offspring of the pride of human\nintellect is an equally dangerous enemy of human improvement; and to\nhave contributed to its downfal is of itself no small achievement for\none mind.\n\nSuch are a few remarks on the matter of the first part of the \"Treatise\nof Human Nature\"--given not by any means as an analysis of the doctrines\nthere taught, but merely as an attempt to characterize them by their\nprominent features. It will naturally be expected that a similar attempt\nshould be made to characterize the form in which these doctrines were\npromulgated. As to the style of the Treatise, it possesses the\nclearness, flexibility, and simplicity that distinguish the maturity of\nits author's literary career, though not quite in all the perfection in\nwhich they afterwards attended his pen. There are occasional\nScoticisms--a defect which he took infinite pains to cure, but of which\nhe was never entirely rid. He uses a few obsolete and now harsh sounding\nforms of expression, from which he afterwards abstained: such as the\nelliptical combination 'tis, for it is. Here, and in the first editions\nof his History, he frequently neglects the increment on the perfect\ntense, as by saying, \"I have forgot,\" instead of, I have forgotten; \"I\nhave wrote,\" instead of I have written.\n\nThe Treatise has that happy equality of flight, which distinguishes the\nauthor's maturer productions. There is no attempt to soar, and none of\nthose ambitious inequalities which often deform the works of young\nauthors. His imagination and language seem indeed to have been kept\npermanently chained down by the character of his inquiries. His constant\naim is to make his meaning clear; and in the subtleties of a new and\nintricate system of metaphysics, he seems to have felt that there lay\nupon him so heavy a responsibility to make use on all occasions of the\nclearest and simplest words, that any flight of imagination or eloquence\nwould be a dangerous experiment.\n\nThere is a corresponding absence of pedantic ornament. A young writer\nwho has read much, is generally more anxious to show his learning and\ninformation than his own power of thought. With many the defect lasts\nthrough maturer years, and they write as if to find a good thing in some\nunknown author, were more meritorious than to have invented it.\nMontesquieu, whom Hume has been accused of imitating, carried this\ndefect to a vice, and often distorted the order of his reasoning, that\nhe might introduce an allusion to something discovered in the course of\nhis peculiar learning. That Hume had read much in philosophy before he\nundertook his great work, cannot be doubted, but he does not drag his\nreaders through the minuti\u00e6 of his studies, and is content with giving\nthem results. In many respects, indeed, one would have desired to know\nmore of his appreciation of his predecessors. The name of Aristotle is,\nit is believed, not once mentioned in the work, and there are only some\nindirect allusions to him, and these not very respectful, in casual\nremarks on the opinions of the Peripatetics. One would have expected\nfrom Hume a kindred sympathy with the great master of intellectual\nphilosophy, and a respectful appreciation of one whose inquiries were\nconducted with a like acute severity, but whose mind took so much more\nwide and comprehensive a grasp of the sources of human knowledge.\n\nIt has been often observed, that a person so original in his opinions as\nHume, ought to have made a new nomenclature for the new things which he\ntaught. But he has no philosophical nomenclature; he appears indeed to\nhave despised that useful instrument of method, and means of\ncommunicating clear ideas to learners. This want has prevented his\nsystem from being clearly and fully learned by the student, while it has\nat the same time probably made his works less repulsive to the general\nreader. He seems indeed hardly to have been conscious of the advantage\nto all philosophy, of uniformity of expression. Using the words \"force,\"\n\"vivacity,\" \"solidity,\" \"firmness,\" and \"steadiness,\" all with the same\nmeaning, he speaks of this usage as a \"variety of terms which may seem\nso unphilosophical;\" and then observes, more in the style of one who is\ntired of philosophical precision than of a philosopher, \"Provided we\nagree about the thing, 'tis needless to dispute about the terms.\"\n\nThis is a kindred defect to that absence of method which has been\nalready taken notice of. A fixed nomenclature is a beacon against\nrepetition and discursiveness. But the Treatise has no pretension to be\na work of which he who omits paying attention to any part, thereby drops\na link in a chain, the loss of which will make the whole appear broken\nand inconsistent. There are, it is true, places where the essential\nparts of the author's philosophy are developed, the omission of which\nwould render that which follows hard to be understood, but in general\neach department of the work is intelligible in itself. Its author\nappears to have composed it in separate fragments; holding in view,\nwhile he was writing each part, the general principle of his theory, but\nnot taking it for granted that the reader is so far master of that\nprinciple, as not to require it to be generally explained in connexion\nwith the particular matter under consideration. He seems indeed rather\ndesirous to dwell on it, as something that the reader may have seen in\nthe earlier part of the work, but may have neglected to keep in his mind\nwhile he reads the other parts. Perhaps the true model of every\nphilosophical work is to be found in the usual systems of geometry,\nwhere, whatever is once proposed and proved, is held a fixed part of\nknowledge, and is never repeated; but as far as psychological reasoning\nis from the certainty of geometrical, so distant perhaps, will ever be\nthe precision of its method from that of geometry.\n\nIt may safely be pronounced, that no book of its age presents itself to\nus at this day, more completely free from exploded opinions in the\nphysical sciences. With the exception perhaps of occasional allusions to\n\"animal spirits,\" as a moving influence in the human body, the author's\ncareful sifting sceptical mind seems, without having practically tested\nthem, to have turned away from whatever doctrines were afterwards\ndestined to fall before the test of experiment and induction. It was not\nthat he was so much of a natural philosopher himself as to be able to\ntest their truth or falsehood, but that with a wholesome jealousy,\ncharacteristic of the mind in which the Disquisition on Miracles was\nworking itself into shape, he avoided them as things neither coming\nwithin the scope of his own analysis, nor bearing the marks of having\nbeen satisfactorily established by those whose more peculiar province it\nwas to investigate their claims to be believed. At a later date, his\nfriend D'Alembert admitted judicial astrology and alchemy as branches of\nnatural philosophy in his \"Syst\u00eame Figur\u00e9 des Connoissances Humaines.\"\nCudworth, and even the scrutinizing Locke, dealt gravely with matters\ndoomed afterwards to be ranked among popular superstitions, and Sir\nThomas Browne, in some respects a sceptic, eloquently defended more\n\"vulgar errors\" than he exposed. Hobbes was, in the midst of the darkest\nscepticism, a practical believer in the actual presence of the spirits\nof the air; and Johnson, whose name, however, it may scarcely be fair to\nclass in this list, as he did not profess, except for conversational\ntriumph, to be a reducer and demolisher of unfounded beliefs, along\nwith his partial admission of the existence of spectres, has left behind\nhim many dogmatic announcements of physical doctrines, which the\nprogress of science has now long buried under its newer systems.\n\nIt is by no means maintained that Hume was beyond his age--or even on a\npar with its scientific ornaments, in physical knowledge; but merely\nthat he showed a judicious caution in distinguishing, in his published\nwork, those parts of physical philosophy which had been admitted within\nthe bounds of true and permanent science, from those which were still in\na state of mere hypothesis. His knowledge of physical science was\nprobably not very extensive. A small portion of a collection of his\nnotes on subjects that attracted his attention bear on this subject. The\ncollection from which they are taken will be noticed in the next\nchapter; but as those which are set apart from the others, and are\nheaded \"Natural Philosophy,\" seem to have been written at an earlier\nperiod than the rest of the collection, and are appropriate to the\npresent subject, they are here given. It is not expected that they will\nawaken in the natural philosopher any great respect for the extent of\nHume's inquiries in this department of knowledge.\n\n\nNATURAL PHILOSOPHY.\n\n\"A ship sails always swiftest when her sides yield a little.\n\n\"Two pieces of timber, resting upon one another, will bear as much as\nboth of them laid across at the distance of their opening.\n\n\"Calcined antimony more heavy than before.[95:1]\n\n\"A proof that natural philosophy has no truth in it, is, that it has\nonly succeeded in things remote, as the heavenly bodies; or minute, as\nlight.\n\n\"'Tis probable that mineral waters are not formed by running over beds\nof minerals, but by imbibing the vapours which form these minerals,\nsince we cannot make mineral waters with all the same qualities.\n\n\"Hot mineral waters come not a-boiling sooner than cold water.\n\n\"Hot iron put into cold water soon cools, but becomes hot again.\n\n\"There falls usually at Paris, in June, July, and August, as much rain\nas in the other nine months.\n\n\"This seems to be a strong presumption against medicines, that they are\nmostly disagreeable, and out of the common use of life. For the weak and\nuncertain operation of the common food, &c. is well known by experience.\nThese others are the better objects of quackery.\"\n\n\nThe system of philosophy to which the foregoing remarks apply, was\npublished when its author was twenty-six years old, and he completed it\nin voluntary exile, and in that isolation from the counsel and sympathy\nof early friends, which is implied by a residence in an obscure spot in\na foreign country. While he was framing his metaphysical theory, Hume\nappears to have permitted no confidential adviser to have access to the\nworkings of his inventive genius; and as little did he take for granted\nany of the reasonings and opinions of the illustrious dead, as seek\ncounsel of the living. Nowhere is there a work of genius more completely\nauthenticated, as the produce of the solitary labour of one mind; and\nwhen we reflect on the boldness and greatness of the undertaking, we\nhave a picture of self-reliance calculated to inspire both awe and\nrespect. The system seems to be characteristic of a lonely mind--of one\nwhich, though it had no enmity with its fellows, had yet little sympathy\nwith them. It has few of the features that characterize a partaker in\nthe ordinary hopes and fears, the joys and sorrows, of humanity; little\nto give impulse to the excitement of the enthusiast; nothing to dry the\ntear of the mourner. It exposes to poor human reason her own weakness\nand nakedness, and supplies her with no extrinsic support or protection.\nSuch a work, coming from a man at the time of life when our sympathies\nwith the world are strongest, and our anticipations brightest, would\nseem to indicate a mind rendered callous by hardship and disappointment.\nBut it was not so with Hume. His coldness and isolation were in his\ntheories alone; as a man he was frank, warm, and friendly. But the same\nimpulses which gave him resolution to adopt so bold a step, seem at the\nsame time to have armed him with a hard contempt for the opinions of the\nrest of mankind. Hence, though his philosophy is sceptical, his manner\nis frequently dogmatical, even to intolerance; and while illustrating\nthe feebleness of all human reasoning, he seems as if he felt an innate\ninfallibility in his own. He afterwards regretted this peculiarity; and\nin a letter, written apparently at an advanced period of life, we find\nhim deprecating not only the tone of the Inquiry, but many of its\nopinions. He says:--\n\n\n\"Allow me to tell you, that I never asserted so absurd a proposition as\n_that any thing might arise without a cause_. I only maintained that our\ncertainty of the falsehood of that proposition proceeded neither from\nintuition nor demonstration, but from another source. _That C\u00e6sar\nexisted_, that there is such an island as Sicily,--for these\npropositions, I affirm, we have no demonstration nor intuitive\nproof,--would you infer that I deny their _truth_, or even their\ncertainty? There are many different kinds of certainty; and some of them\nas satisfactory to the mind, though perhaps not so regular as the\ndemonstrative kind.\n\n\"Where a man of sense mistakes my meaning, I own I am angry; but it is\nonly with myself, for having expressed my meaning so ill, as to have\ngiven occasion to the mistake.\n\n\"That you may see I would no way scruple of owning my mistakes in\nargument, I shall acknowledge (what is infinitely more material) a very\ngreat mistake in conduct, viz. my publishing at all the 'Treatise of\nHuman Nature,' a book which pretended to innovate in all the sublimest\npaths of philosophy, and which I composed before I was five-and-twenty;\nabove all, the positive air which prevails in that book, and which may\nbe imputed to the ardour of youth, so much displeases me, that I have\nnot patience to review it. But what success the same doctrines, better\nillustrated and expressed, may meet with, _adhuc sub judice lis est_.\nThe arguments have been laid before the world, and by some philosophical\nminds have been attended to. I am willing to be instructed by the\npublic; though human life is so short, that I despair of ever seeing the\ndecision. I wish I had always confined myself to the more easy parts of\nerudition; but you will excuse me from submitting to a proverbial\ndecision, let it even be in Greek.\"[98:1]\n\n\nThe reader, who passes from the first book of the Treatise, on \"the\nUnderstanding,\" to the second, on \"the Passions,\" will, in many\ninstances, feel like one who is awakened from a dream, or as if, after\npenetrating in solitude and darkness into the unseen world of thought,\nhe had come forth to the cheerful company of mankind, and were holding\nconverse with a shrewd and penetrating observer of the passing world. As\nHume was never totally insensible to the elements of social enjoyment,\nbut had indeed an ample sympathy with the joys and sorrows of his fellow\nmen, he appears occasionally, in the midst of his most subtle\nspeculations, to experience a desire to burst from the dark prison of\nsolitude, into which he had voluntarily immured himself, and bask in the\nsunshine of the world. \"Man,\" he says, in his Treatise, \"is the creature\nof the universe who has the most ardent desire of society, and is fitted\nfor it by the most advantages. We can form no wish which has not a\nreference to society. A perfect solitude is, perhaps, the greatest\npunishment we can suffer. Every pleasure languishes when enjoyed apart\nfrom company, and every pain becomes more cruel and intolerable.\" In a\nremarkable passage, in which, after having long proceeded in enthusiasm\nwith his solitary labours, he seems to have stopped for a moment, and\nrecalling within himself the feelings and sympathies of an ordinary man,\nto have reflected on the scope and tendency of the system in which he\nwas involving himself, he thus expresses himself, regarding its gloomy\ntendency, and the effect it has in destroying, in the mind of its\nfabricator, those stays of satisfactory belief in which it is so\ncomfortable for the wearied intellect to find a resting-place:--\n\n     Before I launch out into those immense depths of philosophy\n     which lie before me, I find myself inclined to stop a moment\n     in my present station, and to ponder that voyage which I have\n     undertaken, and which undoubtedly requires the utmost art and\n     industry to be brought to a happy conclusion. Methinks I am\n     like a man, who, having struck on many shoals, and having\n     narrowly escaped shipwreck in passing a small frith, has yet\n     the temerity to put out to sea in the same leaky\n     weather-beaten vessel, and even carries his ambition so far as\n     to think of compassing the globe under these disadvantageous\n     circumstances. My memory of past errors and perplexities makes\n     me diffident for the future. The wretched condition, weakness,\n     and disorder of the faculties, I must employ in my inquiries,\n     increase my apprehensions. And the impossibility of amending\n     or correcting these faculties, reduces me almost to despair,\n     and makes me resolve to perish on the barren rock, on which I\n     am at present, rather than venture myself upon that boundless\n     ocean which runs out into immensity. This sudden view of my\n     danger strikes me with melancholy; and, as 'tis usual for that\n     passion, above all others, to indulge itself, I cannot forbear\n     feeding my despair with all those desponding reflections which\n     the present subject furnishes me with in such abundance.\n\n     I am first affrighted and confounded with that forlorn\n     solitude in which I am placed in my philosophy, and fancy\n     myself some strange uncouth monster, who, not being able to\n     mingle and unite in society, has been expelled all human\n     commerce, and left utterly abandoned and disconsolate. Fain\n     would I run into the crowd for shelter and warmth, but cannot\n     prevail with myself to mix with such deformity. I call upon\n     others to join me, in order to make a company apart, but no\n     one will hearken to me. Every one keeps at a distance, and\n     dreads that storm which beats upon me from every side. I have\n     exposed myself to the enmity of all metaphysicians, logicians,\n     mathematicians, and even theologians; and can I wonder at the\n     insults I must suffer? I have declared my disapprobation of\n     their systems; and can I be surprised if they should express a\n     hatred of mine and of my person? When I look abroad, I foresee\n     on every side dispute, contradiction, anger, calumny, and\n     detraction. When I turn my eye inward, I find nothing but\n     doubt and ignorance. All the world conspires to oppose and\n     contradict me; though such is my weakness, that I feel all my\n     opinions loosen and fall of themselves, when unsupported by\n     the approbation of others. Every step I take is with\n     hesitation, and every new reflection makes me dread an error\n     and absurdity in my reasoning.\n\n     For with what confidence can I venture upon such bold\n     enterprises, when, beside those numberless infirmities\n     peculiar to myself, I find so many which are common to human\n     nature? Can I be sure that, in leaving all established\n     opinions, I am following truth? and by what criterion shall I\n     distinguish her, even if fortune should at last guide me on\n     her footsteps? After the most accurate and exact of my\n     reasonings, I can give no reason why I should assent to it,\n     and feel nothing but a _strong_ propensity to consider objects\n     _strongly_ in that view under which they appear to me.[101:1]\n\nOccasionally, seduced by some impulse of playful candour, we find him\ngiving us admission as it were into the chamber of his thoughts, and\ndesiring that some one would drag him into the common circle of the\nworld. When there, he consents for a short time to comport himself as a\nman, is social and sympathetic with his kind, and pleased with what is\npassing around; when anon the ambition which had prompted his solitary\nmusings stirs his soul, tells him that in active life and the world at\nlarge, the sphere of his true greatness is not placed, and prompts him\nto reimprison himself, and pursue the great aim of his existence.\n\n     But what have I here said, that reflections very refined and\n     metaphysical have little or no influence upon us? This opinion\n     I can scarce forbear retracting, and condemning from my\n     present feeling and experience. The _intense_ view of these\n     manifold contradictions and imperfections in human reason has\n     so wrought upon me, and heated my brain, that I am ready to\n     reject all belief and reasoning, and can look upon no opinion\n     even as more probable or likely than another. Where am I, or\n     what? From what causes do I derive my existence, and to what\n     condition shall I return? Whose favour shall I court, and\n     whose anger must I dread? What beings surround me? and on whom\n     have I any influence, or who have any influence on me? I am\n     confounded with all these questions, and begin to fancy myself\n     in the most deplorable condition imaginable, environed with\n     the deepest darkness, and utterly deprived of the use of every\n     member and faculty.\n\n     Most fortunately it happens, that since Reason is incapable of\n     dispelling these clouds, Nature herself suffices to that\n     purpose, and cures me of this philosophical melancholy and\n     delirium, either by relaxing this bent of mind, or by some\n     avocation, and lively impression of my senses, which\n     obliterate all these chimeras. I dine, I play a game of\n     backgammon, I converse, and am merry with my friends; and\n     when, after three or four hours' amusement, I would return to\n     these speculations, they appear so cold, and strained, and\n     ridiculous, that I cannot find in my heart to enter into them\n     any farther.\n\n     Here, then, I find myself absolutely and necessarily\n     determined to live, and talk, and act like other people in the\n     common affairs of life. But notwithstanding that my natural\n     propensity, and the course of my animal spirits and passions\n     reduce me to this indolent belief in the general maxims of the\n     world, I still feel such remains of my former disposition,\n     that I am ready to throw all my books and papers into the\n     fire, and resolve never more to renounce the pleasures of life\n     for the sake of reasoning and philosophy. For those are my\n     sentiments in that splenetic humour which governs me at\n     present. I may, nay I must yield to the current of nature, in\n     submitting to my senses and understanding; and in this blind\n     submission I show most perfectly my sceptical disposition and\n     principles. But does it follow that I must strive against the\n     current of nature, which leads me to indolence and pleasure;\n     that I must seclude myself, in some measure, from the commerce\n     and society of men, which is so agreeable; and that I must\n     torture my brain with subtilties and sophistries, at the very\n     time that I cannot satisfy myself concerning the\n     reasonableness of so painful an application, nor have any\n     tolerable prospect of arriving by its means at truth and\n     certainty? Under what obligation do I lie of making such an\n     abuse of time? And to what end can it serve, either for the\n     service of mankind, or for my own private interest? No: if I\n     must be a fool, as all those who reason or believe any thing\n     _certainly_ are, my follies shall at least be natural and\n     agreeable. Where I strive against my inclination, I shall have\n     a good reason for my resistance; and will no more be led\n     a-wandering into such dreary solitudes, and rough passages, as\n     I have hitherto met with.\n\n     These are the sentiments of my spleen and indolence; and\n     indeed I must confess, that philosophy has nothing to oppose\n     to them, and expects a victory more from the returns of a\n     serious good-humoured disposition, than from the force of\n     reason and conviction. In all the incidents of life, we ought\n     still to preserve our scepticism. If we believe that fire\n     warms, or water refreshes, 'tis only because it costs us too\n     much pains to think otherwise. Nay, if we are philosophers, it\n     ought only to be upon sceptical principles, and from an\n     inclination which we feel to the employing ourselves after\n     that manner. Where reason is lively, and mixes itself with\n     some propensity, it ought to be assented to. Where it does\n     not, it never can have any title to operate upon us.\n\n     At the time, therefore, that I am tired with amusement and\n     company, and have indulged a _reverie_ in my chamber, or in a\n     solitary walk by a river side, I feel my mind all collected\n     within itself, and am naturally _inclined_ to carry my view\n     into all those subjects, about which I have met with so many\n     disputes in the course of my reading and conversation. I\n     cannot forbear having a curiosity to be acquainted with the\n     principles of moral good and evil, the nature and foundation\n     of government, and the cause of those several passions and\n     inclinations which actuate and govern me. I am uneasy to think\n     I approve of one object, and disapprove of another; call one\n     thing beautiful, and another deformed; decide concerning truth\n     and falsehood, reason and folly, without knowing upon what\n     principles I proceed. I am concerned for the condition of the\n     learned world, which lies under such a deplorable ignorance in\n     all these particulars. I feel an ambition to arise in me of\n     contributing to the instruction of mankind, and of acquiring a\n     name by my inventions and discoveries. These sentiments spring\n     up naturally in my present disposition; and should I\n     endeavour to banish them, by attaching myself to any other\n     business or diversion, I _feel_ I should be a loser in point\n     of pleasure; and this is the origin of my philosophy.[104:1]\n\nThe acuteness which the solitary metaphysician brought to his aid when\nhe chose to contemplate mankind, is not the least interesting feature in\nhis book. That he could have seen much of men, since his life had been\nbut brief and his converse with books great, is not probable; yet\nChesterfield and Rochefoucauld did not observe men more clearly and\ntruly, though they may have done so more extensively. The following\nsketch of the mental features of a vain man, would not have been\nunworthy of Theophrastus.\n\n     Every thing belonging to a vain man is the best that is any\n     where to be found. His houses, equipage, furniture, clothes,\n     horses, hounds, excel all others in his conceit; and 'tis easy\n     to observe, that from the least advantage in any of these, he\n     draws a new subject of pride and vanity. His wine, if you'll\n     believe him, has a finer flavour than any other; his cookery\n     is more exquisite; his table more orderly; his servant more\n     expert; the air in which he lives more healthful; the soil he\n     cultivates more fertile; his fruits ripen earlier, and to\n     greater perfection; such a thing is remarkable for its\n     novelty; such another for its antiquity: this is the\n     workmanship of a famous artist; that belonged to such a prince\n     or great man; all objects, in a word, that are useful,\n     beautiful, or surprising, or are related to such, may, by\n     means of property, give rise to this passion. These agree in\n     giving pleasure, and agree in nothing else. This alone is\n     common to them, and therefore must be the quality that\n     produces the passion, which is their common effect.[104:2]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[48:1] A literary friend suggests that Hume has a quiet allusion to the\nintellectual faculties of the people of Bristol, in the description of\nJames Naylor's attempts to personify our Saviour, where it is said, \"he\nentered Bristol mounted on a horse--I suppose from the difficulty in\nthat place of finding an ass.\" Retrospect of manners &c., at the end of\nthe History of the Commonwealth.\n\n[52:1] It is not improbable that the person here alluded to is the Abb\u00e9\nPluche, a native of Rheims, the greatest literary ornament of that city,\nand one who filled no small place in the lettered aristocracy of France,\nwhere he held in many respects the position which Paley occupied in\nEngland. He filled successively the chairs of Humanity and Rhetoric, in\nthe University of Rheims. His promotion in the Church was checked by his\npartiality for Jansenism. He had the rare merit of uniting to a firm\nbelief in the great truths of Christianity a wide and full toleration\nfor the conscientious opinions of others; and he enjoyed, what is no\nless rarely possessed by those who meddle in theological disputes, the\ngood opinion of his opponents. He was a great scholar, and wrote some\nworks on etymological and arch\u00e6ological subjects; but he is chiefly\nknown for his writings on natural theology, celebrated for their clear\nand animated enunciation of the harmonies of nature, and not only\npopular in their own country, but translated into most of the European\nlanguages. His \"Spectacle de la Nature,\" written in a series of\ndialogues, was sketched while he acted as instructor to the son of Lord\nStafford; and the master and pupil, with the father and mother of the\nlatter, are the interlocutors. One of its main objects is, by tracing\neffects in the operations of nature to their causes, to prove and\nillustrate the beneficence and wisdom of the Deity. This work has been a\ntreasure to many an English schoolboy, in its well-known translation,\nwith the title, \"Nature Displayed.\" An answer by Pluche to some _esprits\nforts_, who wondered why a philosopher could believe so much, has been\npreserved by his contemporaries: \"It is more reasonable,\" he said, \"to\nbelieve in the dictates of the Supreme Being than to follow the feeble\nlights of a reason bounded in its operations and subject to error.\"\n\nIt must be granted that what Hume calls the association of contrariety\nhas in some measure caused this digression, and that the Abb\u00e9 Pluche\nwould not have been so amply discussed as the possible learned man that\nHume had an introduction to, had there not been so much that is common\nin the subjects treated of by both, and so much that is contrasted in\nthe mode of treatment. Pluche was an opponent of Des Cartes, and thus a\nname far greater than his, and as many will hold greater than Hume's, is\nintroduced into the circle of these local associations.\n\n[53:1] The following passage in a recent work, Mrs. Shelley's \"Rambles\nin Germany and Italy,\" seems appropriate to this observation:--\n\n\"By this time I became aware of a truth which had dawned on me before,\nthat the French common people have lost much of that grace of manner\nwhich once distinguished them above all other people. More courteous\nthan the Italians they could not be; but, while their manners were more\nartificial, they were more playful and winning. All this has changed. I\ndid not remark the alteration so much with regard to myself, as in their\nmode of speaking to one another. The 'Madame,' and 'Monsieur,' with\nwhich stable boys, and old beggar women, used to address each other with\nthe deference of courtiers, has vanished. No trace of it is to be found\nin France; a shadow faintly exists among the Parisian shopkeepers when\nspeaking to their customers, but only there is the traditional\nphraseology still used: The courteous accent, the soft manner, erst so\ncharming, exists no longer. I speak of a thing known and acknowledged by\nthe French themselves. . . . . . Their phraseology, once so delicately\nand even to us more straightforward people, amusingly deferential (not\nto superiors only, but toward one another,) is become blunt, and almost\nrude. The French allege several causes for this change, which they date\nfrom the Revolution of 1830: some say it arises from every citizen\nturning out as one of the national guard in his turn, so that they all\nget a _ton de garnison_: others attribute it to their imitation of the\nEnglish. Of course, in the times of the _ancien regime_, the courtly\ntone found an echo and reflexion, from the royal anti-chambers down to\nthe very ends of the kingdom. This has faded by degrees, till the\nRevolution of 1830 gave it the _coup-de-gr\u00e2ce_.\"\n\n[55:1] Sic in MS.\n\n[56:1] This word is nearly obliterated. The passage appears to be a sort\nof caricatured pompous politeness.\n\n[56:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[57:1] Dated 7th January, 1762, and written in relation to a copy of\nCampbell's \"Dissertation on Miracles,\" sent to him by Dr. Blair.\n\n[58:1] It may be said, that, as Mackenzie's description of Hume's\ncharacter, this subject belongs to a later period of his life--the time\nwhen Mackenzie was acquainted with him. But Mackenzie intended it to be\na true view of Hume's character as a young man; and it appears that it\nproperly belongs to that chronological period to which its author\nassigned it.\n\n[63:1] See above, p. 50. These reasonings appeared probably in a shape\nmore consonant with the author's later views in the \"Philosophical\nEssays,\" 1748.\n\n[64:1] Tytler, Life of Kames, i. 84.\n\n[65:1] Tytler, Life of Kames, i. 88.\n\n[66:1] Original MS. R.S.E.\n\n[67:1] According to some acceptations of the word metaphysical, which\nseem to make it synonymous with transcendental, and referable solely to\nthe operations of pure reason, to the rejection of whatever is founded\non experiment, none of Hume's works are properly metaphysical; and by\nthe very foundation he has given to his philosophy, he has made it\nempirical and consequently not metaphysical. The word metaphysical is,\nhowever, here used in its ordinary, and, as it may be termed, popular\nacceptation, and as applicable to any attempt to analyze mind or\ndescribe its elements,--a subject in relation to which the word ontology\nis also sometimes used.\n\n[70:1] The term \"ideas,\" in the philosophical nomenclature of Hume, is\nthus used in a sense quite distinct from its previous current\nacceptations, and as different from its vernacular use by Plato, in\nreference to the archetypes of all the empirical objects of thought, as\nfrom its employment by Locke, who used it to express \"whatsoever is the\nobject of the understanding when a man thinks.\"\n\n[75:1] \"If we take as the utmost bounds of this system the orbit Uranus,\nwe shall find that it occupies a portion of space not less than three\nthousand six hundred millions of miles in extent. The mind fails to form\nan exact notion of a portion of space so immense; but some faint idea of\nit may be obtained from the fact, that, if the swiftest race-horse ever\nknown, had begun to traverse it at full speed, at the time of the birth\nof Moses, he could only as yet have accomplished half his\njourney.\"--Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation, pp. 1-2. Here an\nattempt is made to give a conception of abstract numbers, by calling up\nin the mind the ideas deposited there from actual impressions. Hume had,\nin the application of his theory to mathematics, to struggle with the\nfact that no truths had a clearer and more distinct existence in the\nmind than the abstract truths of the exact sciences; and feeling the\ndifficulty he thus had to encounter, he did not recur in his subsequent\nworks to this part of the sceptical theory. Kant seems to have filled up\nthe blank for him, by treating those truths as synthetical intuitions\nanterior to experience in their abstract existence, though depending on\nexperience in the knowledge of their concrete application; but it may be\nobserved, that at the beginning of sect. 4. of his Inquiry, Hume seems\nto have nearly anticipated some such principle.\n\n[76:1] \"If any impression gives rise to the idea of self, that\nimpression must continue invariably the same, through the whole course\nof our lives: since self is supposed to exist after that manner. But\nthere is no impression constant and invariable. Pain and pleasure, grief\nand joy, passions and sensations, succeed each other, and never all\nexist at the same time. It cannot, therefore, be from any of these\nimpressions, or from any other, that the idea of self is derived;\nand consequently there is no such idea. . . . . For my part, when\nI enter most intimately into what I call _myself_, I always stumble\non some perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love\nor hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch _myself_ at any time\nwithout a perception, and never can observe any thing but the\nperception.\"--Treatise, B. i. p. iv. sect. 6.\n\n[81:1] One cannot escape a feeling of astonishment on finding so great a\nphilosopher as Reid saying, (Active Powers, ch. ix.) that on this theory\nday and night might be called mutually the cause and effect of each\nother, on account of their mutual sequence: as if the observation of\nthose who have gone so far in civilisation as just to have seen ignited\nbodies, had not data for concluding that that phenomenon which most\nuniformly preceded the ramification of rays of light, was the appearance\nof a luminous body.\n\n[82:1] This refers to the notion, which may now be termed obsolete, at\nleast in philosophy, of an inherent power in the cause to produce the\neffect--not to Kant's theory, which does not appear to be inconsistent\nwith the scientific application of Hume's.\n\n[84:1] \"Scepsis Scientifica; or, Confest Ignorance the Way to Science,\nin an essay of the vanity of dogmatizing and confident opinion.\" By\nJoseph Glanvill, M.A. 1665, 4to, p. 142. See this coincidence commented\non in the _Penny Cyclop\u00e6dia_, art. Scepticism. The style of Glanvill's\nwork, in its rich variety of logical imagery and its powerful use of\nantithesis, is formed on that of Sir Thomas Browne, whose \"Vulgar\nErrors\" had been first published fifteen years earlier. That one who\nwrote a book so full of wisdom--so bold, original, and firm in its\nattacks on received fallacies, should also have been the champion of\nbelief in witchcraft, in which his prototype, Sir Thomas Browne, was\nalso a believer, is one of those inconsistencies in poor human nature,\nwhich elicit much wonder, but no explanation. The following passages\nfrom this curious and rare book are offered for the reader's\namusement:--\n\n\"We conclude many things impossibilities, which yet are easie\n_feasables_. For by an unadvised transiliency, leaping from the effect\nto its remotest cause, we observe not the connexion through the\ninterposal of more immediate causalities, which yet at last bring the\nextremes together without a miracle. And hereupon we hastily conclude\nthat _impossible_ which we see not in the proximate capacity of its\n_efficient_.\"--pp. 83-84.\n\n\"From this last-noted head ariseth that other of _joyning causes with\nirrelevant effects_, which either refer not at all unto them, or in a\nremoter capacity. Hence the Indian conceived so grossly of the _letter_\nthat discovered his theft; and that other who thought the watch an\n_animal_. From hence grew the impostures of _charmes_ and _amulets_, and\nother insignificant ceremonies; which to this day impose upon common\nbelief, as they did of old upon the _barbarism_ of the uncultivate\n_heathen_. Thus effects unusual, whose causes run under ground, and are\nmore remote from ordinary discernment, are noted in the book of _vulgar\nopinion_ with _digitus De\u00ee_, or _D\u00e6monis_; though they owe no other\ndependence to the _first_ than what is common to the whole _syntax_ of\nbeings, nor yet any more to the _second_ than what is given it by the\nimagination of those unqualified judges. Thus, every unwonted _meteor_\nis portentous; and the appearance of any unobserved _star_, some divine\n_prognostick_. Antiquity thought _thunder_ the immediate voyce of\n_Jupiter_, and impleaded them of impiety that referred it to natural\ncausalities. Neither can there happen a _storm_ at this remove from\n_antique_ ignorance, but the multitude will have the _Devil_ in\nit.\"--pp. 84-85.\n\n\n_On the Influence of Education._\n\n\"We judge all things by our _anticipations_; and condemn or applaud\nthem, as they agree or differ from our _first receptions_. One country\nlaughs at the _laws_, _customs_, and _opinions_ of another as absurd and\nridiculous; and the other is as charitable to them in its conceit of\ntheirs.\"--pp. 93-94.\n\n\"Thus, like the hermite, we think the sun shines nowhere but in our\ncell, and all the world to be darkness but ourselves. We judge truth to\nbe circumscribed by the confines of our belief, and the doctrines we\nwere brought up in; and, with as ill manners as those of _China_, repute\nall the rest of the world _monoculous_. So that, what some astrologers\nsay of our _fortunes_ and the passages of our lives, may, by the\nallowance of a metaphor, be said of our _opinions_--that they are\nwritten in our _stars_, being to the most as fatal as those involuntary\noccurrences, and as little in their power as the _placits_ of _destiny_.\nWe are bound to our country's _opinions_ as to its _laws_; and an\naccustomed assent is tantamount to an infallible conclusion. He that\noffers to dissent shall be an _outlaw_ in reputation; and the fears of\nguilty Cain shall be fulfilled on him--whoever meets him _shall slay\nhim_.\"--pp. 95-96.\n\n\"We look with superstitious reverence upon the accounts of preterlapsed\nages, and with a supercilious severity on the more deserving products of\nour own--a vanity which hath possessed all times as well as ours; and\nthe _golden age_ was never present. . . . We reverence gray-headed\ndoctrines, though feeble, decrepit, and within a step of dust: and on\nthis account maintain opinions which have nothing but our _charity_ to\nuphold them.\"--p. 102.\n\n[86:1] \"Had I done but half as much as he [Hume] in labouring to subvert\nprinciples which ought ever to be held sacred, I know not whether the\nfriends of truth would have granted me any indulgence, I am sure they\nought not. Let me be treated with the lenity due to a good citizen no\nlonger than I act as becomes one.\"--Beattie's Essay on the Nature and\nImmutability of Truth, &c. p. 20.\n\nOn this Priestley says, \"Certainly the obvious construction of this\npassage is, that Mr. Hume ought not to be treated with the indulgence\nand lenity due to a good citizen, but ought to be punished as a bad one.\nAnd what is this but what a Bonner and a Gardiner might have put into\nthe preamble of an order for his execution. . . I for my part am truly\npleased with such publications as those of Mr. Hume, and I do not think\nit requires any great sagacity or strength of mind, to see that such\nwritings must be of great service to religion, natural and revealed.\nThey have actually occasioned the subject to be more thoroughly\ncanvassed, and consequently to be better understood than ever it was\nbefore, and thus _vice cotis funguntur_.\"[86:A]\n\n     [86:A] Examination of Dr. Reid's Inquiry, &c. Dr. Beattie's\n     Essay, &c. and Dr. Oswald's Appeal, &c. 1774, pp. 191-193.\n\n[88:1] Critik der reinen Vernunft, (Methodenlehre,) 7th ed. p. 571.\n\n[89:1] Preliminary Dissertation to the _Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica_, 210.\n\n[95:1] A scientific friend observes, that this is the germ of the theory\nof oxidation.\n\n[98:1] I have been favoured by Mr. Chambers with an old copy of this\nletter, in which it is titled as a letter to Gilbert Stuart. The\noriginal is among the MSS. R.S.E. where there is a note in Baron Hume's\nhandwriting, with a supposition that it was addressed to Dr. Traill.\n\n[101:1] B. i. part iv. sect. 7.\n\n[104:1] B. i. part iv. sect. 7.\n\n[104:2] B. ii. part i. sect. 10.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n1739-1741. \u00c6T. 27-29.\n\n     Letters to his friends after the publication of the first and\n     second volume of the Treatise--Returns to Scotland--Reception\n     of his Book--Criticism in \"The Works of the Learned\"--Charge\n     against Hume of assaulting the publisher--Correspondence with\n     Francis Hutcheson--Seeks a situation--Connexion with Adam\n     Smith--Publication of the third volume of the Treatise--Account\n     of it--Hume's notes of his reading--Extracts from his Note\n     books.\n\n\nImmediately after the publication of his work we find Hume thus writing\nto Henry Home:--\n\n\n\"_London, February 13, 1739._\n\n\"SIR,--I thought to have wrote this from a place nearer you than London,\nbut have been detained here by contrary winds, which have kept all\nBerwick ships from sailing. 'Tis now a fortnight since my book was\npublished; and, besides many other considerations, I thought it would\ncontribute very much to my tranquillity, and might spare me many\nmortifications, to be in the country while the success of the work was\ndoubtful. I am afraid 'twill remain so very long. Those who are\naccustomed to reflect on such abstract subjects, are commonly full of\nprejudices; and those who are unprejudiced are unacquainted with\nmetaphysical reasonings. My principles are also so remote from all the\nvulgar sentiments on the subject, that were they to take place, they\nwould produce almost a total alteration in philosophy; and you know,\nrevolutions of this kind are not easily brought about. I am young enough\nto see what will become of the matter; but am apprehensive lest the\nchief reward I shall have for some time will be the pleasure of studying\non such important subjects, and the approbation of a few judges. Among\nthe rest, you may believe I aspire to your approbation; and next to\nthat, to your free censure and criticism. I shall present you with a\ncopy as soon as I come to Scotland; and hope your curiosity, as well as\nfriendship, will make you take the pains of perusing it.\n\n\"If you know any body that is a judge, you would do me a sensible\npleasure in engaging him to a serious perusal of the book. 'Tis so rare\nto meet with one that will take pains on a book, that does not come\nrecommended by some great name or authority, that I must confess I am as\nfond of meeting with such a one as if I were sure of his approbation. I\nam, however, so doubtful in that particular, that I have endeavoured all\nI could to conceal my name; though I believe I have not been so cautious\nin this respect as I ought to have been.\n\n\"I have sent the Bishop of Bristol[106:1] a copy, but could not wait on\nhim with your letter after he had arrived at that dignity. At least I\nthought it would be to no purpose after I began the printing. You'll\nexcuse the frailty of an author in writing so long a letter about\nnothing but his own performances. Authors have this privilege in common\nwith lovers; and founded on the same reason, that they are both besotted\nwith a blind fondness of their object. I have been upon my guard against\nthis frailty; but perhaps this has rather turned to my prejudice. The\nreflection on our caution is apt to give us a more implicit confidence\nafterwards, when we come to form a judgment. I am,\" &c.[107:1]\n\n\nTo the same year we must attribute a letter from Hume to Michael Ramsay,\nbearing no more precise date than 27th February. He says:--\"As to\nmyself, no alteration has happened to my fortune: nor have I taken the\nleast step towards it. I hope things will be riper next winter; and I\nwould not aim at any thing till I could judge of my success in my grand\nundertaking, and see upon what footing I shall stand in the world. I am\nafraid, however, that I shall not have any great success of a sudden.\nSuch performances make their way very heavily at first, when they are\nnot recommended by any great name or authority.\"\n\nIn the same letter he speaks of Ramsay as being then a tutor in the\nMarchmont family, and offers him this sage and business-like\nadvice:--\"Should a living fall to the gift of the Duchess of\nMarlborough, or any other of your friends and patrons, 'twould have but\nan ill air to say that the gentleman was in the South of France, and\nthat he should be informed of the matter. Besides, you know how\nnecessary a man's presence is to quicken his friends, to make them unite\ntheir interests, and to save them the trouble of contriving and thinking\nabout his affairs. Many a one may endeavour to serve you when you point\nout the service you desire of them, who would not take the pains to find\nit out themselves.\"[107:2]\n\nEarly in the year 1739, desiring apparently to await in retirement the\neffect of his work on the mind of the public, he proceeded to Scotland,\nand took up his residence at Ninewells, whence we find him writing to\nHenry Home on 1st June.\n\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--You see I am better than my word, having sent you two papers\ninstead of one. I have hints for two or three more, which I shall\nexecute at my leisure. I am not much in the humour of such compositions\nat present, having received news from London of the success of my\nPhilosophy, which is but indifferent, if I may judge by the sale of the\nbook, and if I may believe my bookseller. I am now out of humour with\nmyself; but doubt not, in a little time, to be only out of humour with\nthe world, like other unsuccessful authors. After all, I am sensible of\nmy folly in entertaining any discontent, much more despair, upon this\naccount, since I could not expect any better from such abstract\nreasoning; nor, indeed, did I promise myself much better. My fondness\nfor what I imagined new discoveries, made me overlook all common rules\nof prudence; and, having enjoyed the usual satisfaction of projectors,\n'tis but just I should meet with their disappointments. However, as 'tis\nobserved with such sort of people, one project generally succeeds\nanother, I doubt not but in a day or two I shall be as easy as ever, in\nhopes that truth will prevail at last over the indifference and\nopposition of the world.\n\n\"You see I might at present subscribe myself your most _humble_ servant\nwith great propriety: but, notwithstanding, shall presume to call myself\nyour most affectionate friend as well as humble servant.\"[108:1]\n\n\nHis account of the success of his work in his \"own life,\" is contained\nin these well-known sentences: \"Never literary attempt was more\nunfortunate than my 'Treatise of Human Nature.' It fell _dead born from\nthe press_, without reaching such distinction as even to excite a murmur\namong the zealots.\" But he was never easily satisfied with the success\nof his works; and we know that this one was not so entirely unnoticed by\nthe periodical press, such as it then was, but that it called forth a\nlong review in the number for November, 1739, of _The History of the\nWorks of the Learned_, a periodical which may be said to have set the\nexample in England, of systematic reviews of new books. This review is\nwritten with considerable spirit, and has a few pretty powerful strokes\nof sarcasm--as where, in relation to Hume's sceptical examination of the\nresults of the demonstrations of the geometricians, the writer says, \"I\nwill have nothing to do in the quarrel; if they cannot maintain their\ndemonstrations against his attacks, they may even perish.\" The paper is\nof considerable length, and it has throughout a tone of clamorous\njeering and vulgar raillery that forcibly reminds one of the writings of\nWarburton. But it is the work of one who respects the adversary he has\ntaken arms against; and, before leaving the subject, the writer makes a\nmanly atonement for his wrath, saying of the Treatise,--\"It bears,\nindeed, incontestable marks of a great capacity, of a soaring genius,\nbut young and not yet thoroughly practised. The subject is vast and\nnoble as any that can exercise the understanding; but it requires a very\nmature judgment to handle it as becomes its dignity and importance: the\nutmost prudence, tenderness, and delicacy are requisite to this\ndesirable issue. Time and use may ripen these qualities in our author;\nand we shall probably have reason to consider this, compared with his\nlater productions, in the same light as we view the juvenile works of\nMilton, or the first manner of a Raphael or other celebrated painter.\"\n\nImmediately after Hume's death, there appeared in _The London Review_,\nthe following account of the manner in which he had acknowledged the\narticle in _The Works of the Learned_: \"It does not appear our author\nhad acquired, at this period of his life, that command over his passions\nof which he afterwards makes his boast. His disappointment at the public\nreception of his 'Essay on Human Nature,' had, indeed, a violent effect\non his passions in a particular instance; it not having dropped so dead\nborn from the press but that it was severely handled by the reviewers of\nthose times, in a publication entitled _The Works of the Learned_. A\ncircumstance this which so highly provoked our young philosopher, that\nhe flew in a violent rage to demand satisfaction of Jacob Robinson, the\npublisher, whom he kept, during the paroxysm of his anger, at his\nsword's point, trembling behind the counter lest a period should be put\nto the life of a sober critic by a raving philosopher.\"[110:1]\n\nThis statement is in a note to a Review of Hume's \"own life,\" and it has\nafter it the letters \"Rev.\" which serve to give it the attestation of\nWilliam Shakespeare Kenrick, the editor of _The London Review_, and a\nman whose sole title to literary remembrance rests on the hardy\neffrontery and deadly spite of his falsehoods. There is nothing in the\nstory to make it in itself incredible--for Hume was far from being that\ndocile mass of imperturbability, which so large a portion of the world\nhave taken him for. But the anecdote requires authentication; and has it\nnot. Moreover, there are circumstances strongly against its truth. Hume\nwas in Scotland at the time when the criticism on his work was\npublished: he did not visit London for some years afterwards; and, to\nbelieve the story, we must look upon it not as a momentary ebullition of\npassion, but as a manifestation of long-treasured resentment,--a\ncircumstance inconsistent with his character, inconsistent with human\nnature in general, and not in keeping with the modified tone of\ndissatisfaction with the criticism, evinced in his correspondence.\n\nWhile Hume was preparing for the press the third part of his \"Treatise\nof Human Nature,\"--on the subject of Morals, Francis Hutcheson, then\nprofessor of moral philosophy in the university of Glasgow, was enjoying\na reputation in the philosophical world scarcely inferior to that of\neither of his great contemporaries, Berkeley and Wolff. From the\nfollowing correspondence it will be seen that Hume submitted the\nmanuscript of his forthcoming volume to Hutcheson's inspection; and he\nshows more inclination to receive with deference the suggestions of that\ndistinguished man, than to allow himself to be influenced from any other\nquarter. But still, it will be observed that it is only in details that\nhe receives instruction, and that he vigorously supports the fundamental\nprinciples of his system. The correspondence illustrates the method in\nwhich he held himself as working with human nature--not as an artist,\nbut an anatomist, whose minute critical examinations might be injured by\nany bursts of feeling or eloquence.[111:1] The letters show how far he\nsaw into the depths of the utilitarian system; and prove that it was\nmore completely formed in his mind than it appeared in his book.\nNotions of prudence appear to have restrained him, at that time, from\nissuing so full a development of the system as that which he afterwards\npublished; but he soon discovered that it was not in that department of\nhis works that he stood on the most dangerous ground.\n\n\nHUME _to_ FRANCIS HUTCHESON.\n\n\"_Ninewells, 17th Sept. 1739._\n\n\"SIR,--I am much obliged to you for your reflections on my papers. I\nhave perused them with care, and find they will be of use to me. You\nhave mistaken my meaning in some passages, which, upon examination, I\nhave found to proceed from some ambiguity or defect in my expression.\n\n\"What affected me most in your remarks, is your observing that there\nwants a certain warmth in the cause of virtue, which you think all good\nmen would relish, and could not displease amidst abstract inquiries. I\nmust own this has not happened by chance, but is the effect of a\nreasoning either good or bad. There are different ways of examining the\nmind, as well as the body. One may consider it either as an anatomist or\nas a painter: either to discover its most secret springs and principles,\nor to describe the grace and beauty of its actions. I imagine it\nimpossible to conjoin these two views. Where you pull off the skin, and\ndisplay all the minute parts, there appears something trivial, even in\nthe noblest attitudes and most vigorous actions; nor can you ever render\nthe object graceful or engaging, but by clothing the parts again with\nskin and flesh, and presenting only their bare outside. An anatomist,\nhowever, can give very good advice to a painter or statuary. And, in\nlike manner, I am persuaded that a metaphysician may be very helpful to\na moralist, though I cannot easily conceive these two characters united\nin the same work. Any warm sentiment of morals, I am afraid, would have\nthe air of declamation amidst abstract reasonings, and would be esteemed\ncontrary to good taste. And though I am much more ambitious of being\nesteemed a friend to virtue than a writer of taste, yet I must always\ncarry the latter in my eye, otherwise I must despair of ever being\nserviceable to virtue. I hope these reasons will satisfy you; though at\nthe same time I intend to make a new trial, if it be possible to make\nthe moralist and metaphysician agree a little better.\n\n\"I cannot agree to your sense of _natural_. 'Tis founded on final\ncauses, which is a consideration that appears to me pretty uncertain and\nunphilosophical. For, pray, what is the end of man? Is he created for\nhappiness, or for virtue? for this life, or for the next? for himself,\nor for his Maker? Your definition of _natural_ depends upon solving\nthese questions, which are endless, and quite wide of my purpose. I have\nnever called justice unnatural, but only artificial. '_Atque ipsa\nutilitas, justi prope mater et \u00e6qui_,'[113:1] says one of the best\nmoralists of antiquity. Grotius and Puffendorf, to be consistent, must\nassert the same.\n\n\"Whether natural abilities be virtue, is a dispute of words. I think I\nfollow the common use of language; _virtus_ signified chiefly courage\namong the Romans. I was just now reading this character of Alexander VI.\nin Guicciardin. 'In Alessandro sesto fu solertia et sagacit\u00e0 singulare:\nconsiglio eccellente, efficacia a persuadere maravigliosa, et a tutte\nle faccende gravi, sollicitudine, et destrezza incredibile. Ma erano\nqueste virt\u00f9 avanzate di grande intervallo da vitii.'[114:1] Were\nbenevolence the only virtue, no characters could be mixed, but would\ndepend entirely on their degrees of benevolence. Upon the whole, I\ndesire to take my catalogue of virtues from 'Cicero's Offices,' not from\n'The Whole Duty of Man.' I had indeed the former book in my eye in all\nmy reasonings.\n\n\"I have many other reflections to communicate to you; but it would be\ntroublesome. I shall therefore conclude with telling you, that I intend\nto follow your advice in altering most of those passages you have\nremarked as defective in point of prudence; though, I must own, I think\nyou a little too delicate. Except a man be in orders, or be immediately\nconcerned in the instruction of youth, I do not think his character\ndepends upon his philosophical speculations, as the world is now\nmodelled; and a little liberty seems requisite to bring into the public\nnotice a book that is calculated for few readers. I hope you will allow\nme the freedom of consulting you when I am in any difficulty, and\nbelieve me,\" &c.\n\n\"P.S.--I cannot forbear recommending another thing to your\nconsideration. Actions are not virtuous nor vicious, but only so far as\nthey are proofs of certain qualities or durable principles in the mind.\nThis is a point I should have established more expressly than I have\ndone. Now, I desire you to consider if there be any quality that is\nvirtuous, without having a tendency either to the public good or to the\ngood of the person who possesses it. If there be none without these\ntendencies, we may conclude that their merit is derived from sympathy. I\ndesire you would only consider the _tendencies_ of qualities, not their\nactual operations, which depend on chance. _Brutus_ riveted the chains\nof _Rome_ faster by his opposition; but the natural tendency of his\nnoble dispositions--his public spirit and magnanimity--was to establish\nher liberty.\n\n\"You are a great admirer of _Cicero_ as well as I am. Please to review\nthe fourth book _De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum_: where you find him\nprove against the _Stoics_, that if there be no other goods but virtue,\n'tis impossible there can be any virtue, because the mind would then\nwant all motives to begin its actions upon; and 'tis on the goodness or\nbadness of the motives that the virtue of the action depends. This\nproves, that to every virtuous action there must be a motive or\nimpelling passion distinct from the virtue, and that virtue can never be\nthe sole motive to any action. You do not assent to this: though I think\nthere is no proposition more certain or important. I must own my proofs\nwere not distinct enough and must be altered. You see with what\nreluctance I part with you, though I believe it is time I should ask\nyour pardon for so much trouble.\"\n\n\nIn the mean time we find Hume anxious to be employed in the capacity of\na travelling governor or tutor, and writing to Mr. George Carre of\nNisbet, intimating his readiness to officiate to that gentleman's\ncousins, Lord Haddington and Mr. Baillie, if there are no favoured\ncandidates for the situation. There is nothing in the letter to excite\nmuch interest.[116:1] He says, he hears the young gentlemen are\nproposing to travel; observes that he has the honour to be their\nrelation, \"which gives a governor a better air in attending his pupils,\"\nand that he has some leisure time. In his letter to a physician, in the\npreceding chapter, we find him mentioning this office as one of the few\nto which his prospects were limited, and, at the same time, as one for\nwhich his knowledge of the world scarcely fitted him. His six years'\nfarther experience of life had perhaps in his own opinion provided him\nwith opportunities of better qualifying himself for the duties of this\noffice. It was held by many able and accomplished men at that time, and\nappears to have been the profession of his friend Michael Ramsay. There\nare no traces of the manner in which his application was received.\n\nFrom such matters as these, one readily turns with interest to the most\ntrifling notices connected with his literary history. On 4th March,\n1740, we find him thus writing to Hutcheson.\n\n\"My bookseller has sent to Mr. Smith a copy of my book, which I hope he\nhas received, as well as your letter. I have not yet heard what he has\ndone with the abstract; perhaps you have. I have got it printed in\nLondon, but not in _The Works of the Learned_, there having been an\narticle with regard to my book, somewhat abusive, printed in that work,\nbefore I sent up the abstract.\"[116:2]\n\nThe \"Smith\" here mentioned as receiving a copy of the Treatise, we may\nfairly conclude, notwithstanding the universality of the name, to be\nAdam Smith, who was then a student in the university of Glasgow, and\nnot quite seventeen years old.[117:1] It may be inferred from Hume's\nletter, that Hutcheson had mentioned Smith as a person on whom it would\nserve some good purpose to bestow a copy of the Treatise: and we have\nhere, evidently, the first introduction to each other's notice, of two\nfriends, of whom it can be said, that there was no third person writing\nthe English language during the same period, who has had so much\ninfluence upon the opinions of mankind as either of these two men.\n\nThe correspondence with Hutcheson is continued as follows:\n\n\nHUME _to_ FRANCIS HUTCHESON.\n\n\"_16th March,1740._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I must trouble you to write that letter you was so kind as\nto offer to Longman the bookseller. I concluded somewhat of a hasty\nbargain with my bookseller, from indolence and an aversion to\nbargaining: as also because I was told that few or no bookseller would\nengage for one edition with a new author. I was also determined to keep\nmy name a secret for some time, though I find I have failed in that\npoint. I sold one edition of these two volumes for fifty guineas, and\nalso engaged myself heedlessly in a clause, which may prove troublesome,\nviz. that upon printing a second edition I shall take all the copies\nremaining upon hand at the bookseller's price at the time. 'Tis in order\nto have some check upon my bookseller, that I would willingly engage\nwith another: and I doubt not but your recommendation would be very\nserviceable to me, even though you be not personally acquainted with\nhim.\n\n\"I wait with some impatience for a second edition, principally on\naccount of alterations I intend to make in my performance. This is an\nadvantage that we authors possess since the invention of printing, and\nrenders the _nonum prematur in annum_ not so necessary to us as to the\nancients. Without it I should have been guilty of a very great temerity,\nto publish at my years so many novelties in so delicate a part of\nphilosophy; and at any rate, I am afraid that I must plead as my excuse\nthat very circumstance of youth which may be urged against me. I assure\nyou, that without running any of the heights of scepticism, I am apt in\na cool hour to suspect, in general, that most of my reasonings will be\nmore useful by furnishing hints and exciting people's curiosity, than as\ncontaining any principles that will augment the stock of knowledge, that\nmust pass to future ages.[118:1] I wish I could discover more fully the\nparticulars wherein I have failed. I admire so much the candour I have\nobserved in Mr. Locke, yourself, and a very few more, that I would be\nextremely ambitious of imitating it, by frankly confessing my errors. If\nI do not imitate it, it must proceed neither from my being free from\nerrors nor want of inclination, but from my real unaffected ignorance. I\nshall consider more carefully all the particulars you mention to me:\nthough with regard to _abstract ideas_, 'tis with difficulty I can\nentertain a doubt on that head, notwithstanding your authority. Our\nconversation together has furnished me a hint, with which I shall\naugment the second edition. 'Tis this--the word _simple idea_ is an\nabstract term, comprehending different individuals that are similar. Yet\nthe point of their similarity, from the very nature of such ideas, is\nnot distinct nor separable from the rest. Is not this a proof, among\nmany others, that there may be a similarity without any possible\nseparation even in thought.\n\n\"I must consult you in a point of prudence. I have concluded a reasoning\nwith these two sentences: 'When you pronounce any action or character to\nbe vicious, you mean nothing but that, from the particular constitution\nof your nature, you have a feeling or sentiment of blame from the\ncontemplation of it. Vice and virtue, therefore, may be compared to\nsounds, colours, heat, and cold, which, according to modern philosophy,\nare not qualities in objects, but perceptions in the mind. And this\ndiscovery in morals, like that other in physics, is to be regarded as a\nmighty advancement of the speculative sciences, though like that too it\nhas little or no influence on practice.'[119:1]\n\n\"Is not this laid a little too strong? I desire your opinion of it,\nthough I cannot entirely promise to conform myself to it. I wish from my\nheart I could avoid concluding, that since morality, according to your\nopinion, as well as mine, is determined merely by sentiment, it regards\nonly human nature and human life. This has been often urged against you,\nand the consequences are very momentous. If you make any alterations in\nyour performances, I can assure you, there are many who desire you would\nmore fully consider this point, if you think that the truth lies on the\npopular side. Otherwise common prudence, your character, and situation,\nforbid you [to] touch upon it. If morality were determined by reason,\nthat is the same to all rational beings; but nothing but experience can\nassure us that the sentiments are the same. What experience have we with\nregard to superior beings? How can we ascribe to them any sentiments at\nall? They have implanted those sentiments in us for the conduct of life\nlike our bodily sensations, which they possess not themselves. I expect\nno answer to these difficulties in the compass of a letter. 'Tis enough\nif you have patience to read so long a letter as this.--I am.\" &c.\n\n\nThe third volume of the \"Treatise of Human Nature\" being the part\nrelating to morals, was published by Thomas Longman in 1740. It is not\nso original as the metaphysical part of the work, nor are its principles\nso clearly and decidedly laid down. Its author's metaphysical theories\nwere rather modified than confirmed in his subsequent works. But his\nopinions on ethical subjects, only indistinctly shadowed forth in his\nearly work, were afterwards reduced to a more compact system, and were\nmore clearly and fully set forth.\n\nThe metaphysical department of the Treatise is a system with a great\nleading principle throughout, of which its author intended that all the\ndetails should be but the individual applications. If his reasoning in\nthat department of his work be accurate, he sweeps away all other\nsystems of the foundation of knowledge, and substitutes another in their\nstead. But the third book, \"on Morals,\" like the second, on \"the\nPassions,\" has no such pretension. The leading principles of the\nmetaphysical department are certainly kept in view, but the details are\nnot necessarily parts of it. They have a separate existence of their\nown: they are an analysis of phenomena which we witness in our daily\nlife; and the reader assents or dissents as the several opinions\nexpressed correspond with or diverge from his own observation of what he\nsees passing in the world around him, without, in that mental operation,\neither receiving or rejecting any general theory. In short, it is to a\nconsiderable extent a series of observations of human conduct and\ncharacter; and as such they are admitted or denied, are sympathized with\nor contemned, according to the previous feelings and opinions of the\nreader. Among the prominent features of the theoretical part of this\nbook, is the admission of a moral sense,[121:1] but the negation of an\nabstract code of morality, separately existing, and independent of the\nposition of the persons who are applying this sense. The work in some\nmeasure foreshadows the systems which have been respectively called the\nutilitarian and the selfish; the former applying as the scale of moral\nexcellence the extent to which an action is beneficial or hurtful to the\nhuman race; the latter referring the actions of mankind, whether good or\nbad, interested or disinterested, to self, and to impulses which are\nalways connected with the individual in whom they act, and his passions\nor desires.\n\nIn this respect it had its influence, when joined to other hints thrown\nout by philosophers, in supplying the texts on which Helvetius,\nBeccaria, and Bentham discoursed at greater length and with a clearer\napplication to definite systems. The utilitarian principle Hume\nafterwards extended and rendered systematic, in pursuance of the views\nannounced in his correspondence with Hutcheson. In connexion with what\nis called the \"selfish system\" of morals, he went no farther than to\npoint out that the source of every impulse must have its relation to the\nindividual person on whom that impulse acts. If it be the sordid impulse\nof the miser, it must be because the man who feels it loves gold; if it\nbe the profuse impulse of the spendthrift, it must be because the\nindividual who spends has a corresponding desire within himself; if it\nbe the charitable impulse of the person who feeds the poor, it must be\nbecause that person is under the influence of inducements which incline\nhim rather to do so than not do so. If the principle be applied to a\nmartyr suffering for conscience sake, or to a soldier who prefers death\nto submission, it is still because the person who acts fulfils impulses\nacting on himself. But this is a subject from which Hume appears to have\nshrunk in his subsequent works. He seems to have disliked the character\nof being connected with \"the selfish school;\" and he thus failed to\nrevert to a subject on which his rigid and clear examination would have\nbeen a matter of greater interest, than his merely arguing against\nself-interest being the proper rule of action--an argument that with him\namounts to nothing more than a protest against that vulgarization of the\nsystem, which charges it with such a doctrine for the purpose of\nrendering it odious. We shall afterwards find that he had a\ncorrespondence on this subject with Helvetius, who wished to bring him\nover to the admission of his own opinions.\n\nIn this department of the Treatise there are some inquiries into the\nfirst principles of law and government. Here, if any where, he shows the\ninfluence over his mind of his reading in the works of the civilians.\nHis own utilitarian principle, when carried out on these subjects, shows\nthat the best government is that which is most conducive to the welfare\nof the community. But he occasionally mixes up this principle with\nelements totally heterogeneous to it--as in those instances where he\nconsiders the privilege of governing as held by the same tenure with the\nright of property, and views the question whether any particular\ngovernment is good or bad, in its effect upon the persons governed, as\nsecondary to the question whether it is or is not held by a good tenure\nwhen it is considered as if it were a matter of private property. But,\nnotwithstanding these inconsistencies, which he afterwards amended when\nhe had more fully investigated the principles of politics, the general\naim of his observations on the sources of government is to show that\nthey are to be found in reason, and to dispel the various irrational and\nsuperstitious notions of political authority, which are comprehended in\nthe use of the term Divine Right. Indeed, the observations which he\nmakes with a practical application to governments, are a partial\nanticipation of the clear good sense which distinguished his subsequent\npolitical essays. In connexion with the motives of that insurrection\nwhich occurred within eight years after the publication of the Treatise,\nand with the partiality for high monarchical principles with which\nHume's name is so much associated, the following remarks are interesting\nand instructive.\n\n     Whoever considers the history of the several nations of the\n     world, their revolutions, conquests, increase and diminution,\n     the manner in which their particular governments are\n     established, and the successive right transmitted from one\n     person to another, will soon learn to treat very lightly all\n     disputes concerning the rights of princes, and will be\n     convinced that a strict adherence to any general rules, and\n     the rigid loyalty to particular persons and families, on\n     which some people set so high a value, are virtues that hold\n     less of reason than of bigotry and superstition. In this\n     particular, the study of history confirms the reasonings of\n     true philosophy, which, showing us the original qualities of\n     human nature, teaches us to regard the controversies in\n     politics as incapable of any decision in most cases, and as\n     entirely subordinate to the interests of peace and liberty.\n     Where the public good does not evidently demand a change, 'tis\n     certain that the concurrence of all those titles, _original\n     contract_, _long possession_, _present possession_,\n     _succession_, and _positive laws_, forms the strongest title\n     to sovereignty, and is justly regarded as sacred and\n     inviolable. But when these titles are mingled and opposed in\n     different degrees, they often occasion perplexity, and are\n     less capable of solution from the arguments of lawyers and\n     philosophers, than from the swords of the soldiery. Who shall\n     tell me, for instance, whether Germanicus or Drusus ought to\n     have succeeded Tiberius, had he died while they were both\n     alive, without naming any of them for his successor? Ought the\n     right of adoption to be received as equivalent to that of\n     blood, in a nation where it had the same effect in private\n     families, and had already, in two instances, taken place in\n     the public? Ought Germanicus to be esteemed the eldest son,\n     because he was born before Drusus; or the younger, because he\n     was adopted after the birth of his brother? Ought the right of\n     the elder to be regarded in a nation, where the eldest brother\n     had no advantage in the succession to private families? Ought\n     the Roman empire at that time to be esteemed hereditary,\n     because of two examples; or ought it, even so early, to be\n     regarded as belonging to the stronger, or the present\n     possessor, as being founded on so recent an usurpation? Upon\n     whatever principles we may pretend to answer these and\n     such-like questions, I am afraid we shall never be able to\n     satisfy an impartial inquirer, who adopts no party in\n     political controversies, and will be satisfied with nothing\n     but sound reason and philosophy.[124:1]\n\nSome of Hume's notes, of matters which have occurred to him in the\ncourse of his reading as worthy of observation, or of remarkable\nthoughts passing through his mind, have been preserved.[125:1] They\nappear to be merely a few stray leaves, which have accidentally survived\nthe loss of many others, as the number of subjects to which they refer\nis limited in comparison with the wide compass of knowledge embraced in\nHume's various works. The specimens so preserved, appear generally to\nhave been written at this period of his life, with the exception,\nperhaps, of those which are printed above, and which have reference to\nphysical science.[125:2] They are set down with clearness and precision,\nas if by one who knew both the step in a series of reasoning to which\neach of them belongs, and the form in which it should be expressed. They\nare written on long sheets of paper; and unless the few that appear\nunder the head \"Natural Philosophy,\" and some which have the general\nheading \"Philosophy,\" they appear to have been subjected to no system of\npre-arrangement, such as that which Locke suggested, but to have been\nset down according as the fruits of the annotator's reading or thought\npresented themselves to him. A few specimens are here given: they will\nbe found to have been chiefly made use of in the \"Natural History of\nReligion,\" and in the \"Essay on the Populousness of Ancient Nations,\"\nwhile a few of them--as for instance that relating to Gustavus\nVasa--make their appearance in the little volume of \"Essays, Moral and\nPolitical,\" published in 1741.[125:3] A considerable proportion of them\nhave not been made use of in Hume's printed works, and some of them\ncontain information which is embodied in Smith's \"Wealth of Nations.\"\nIt is an occurrence quite characteristic of the friendship of these two\ngreat men, that either of them should have supplied the other with facts\nor ideas applicable to the subjects on which he might be engaged.\n\n\nEXTRACTS FROM A COLLECTION OF MEMORANDUMS.\n\nPerhaps the custom of allowing parents to murder their infant children,\nthough barbarous, tends to render a state more populous, as in China.\nMany marry by that inducement; and such is the force of natural\naffection, that none make use of that privilege but in extreme\nnecessity.\n\nA pound of steel, when manufactured, may become of \u00a310,000 value.\n\nNo hospitals in Holland have any land or settled revenue, and yet the\npoor better provided for than any where else in the world.\n\nThe Romans had two ways chiefly of levying their taxes,--by public\nlands, which were all dissipated by popular tribunes about the end of\nthe republic; or by customs upon importation, which were different in\ndifferent places; in some the fortieth part of the value; in Sicily the\ntwentieth.\n\nThey had also a kind of excise, which began with the emperors, and was\nthe two-hundredth or one-hundredth part of the value of all goods sold,\nthe fiftieth of slaves.\n\nBeside this, they had pretty early, even in the time of the republic,\nduties upon mines and salt; and in order to levy the former more easily,\nthey forbid all mines in Italy. Their mines near Carthagena yielded\nthem 25,000 drachms a-day. _Burman de Vict. Rom._\n\nIn the time of the monarchy, the kings had the sole power of imposing\ntaxes. In the time of the republic, 'tis strange to see this power\nbelonging sometimes to the magistrates, sometimes to the senate, or to\nthe people. We learn from Livy, in the second Punic War, that the senate\ncould contract debt alone. Polybius says, that all money matters\nbelonged to the senate. The censors levied all the taxes, and farmed\nthem out to the Roman knights. The Romans could be no great politicians;\nsince the senate could not gain the sovereignty, nor the censors the\nsupreme magistracy, notwithstanding these advantages.\n\nAll French projectors take it for granted that 'tis equally dangerous to\nmake the people too easy as to oppress them too much. _Comte de\nBoulainvilliers._\n\nThe charter governments in America, almost entirely independent of\nEngland.\n\nThose north of Virginia interfere most with us in manufactures, which\nproceeds from the resemblance of soil and climate.\n\nGustavus Vasa is perhaps the only instance of a prince who humbled the\nclergy while he aspired to arbitrary power.\n\nFrom 1729 to 1730, imported of corn into Ireland to the value of\n\u00a3274,000,--ascribed to the want of a drawback by the Irish House of\nCommons.\n\nThe exchange to Holland always against us. _Craftsman._ Not true.\n\nOur exports no rule to judge of our trade: masters enter more than they\nexport, to persuade others that their ship is near full.\n\nThe East India Company have offered to pay all the duties upon tea,\nprovided it may be sold duty free. The interest the crown has in\nseizures thought to be the cause why they were refused.--Never asked;\nbecause afterwards they cannot expect the execution of the laws against\nforeign tea.\n\nThe government of England perhaps the only one, except Holland, wherein\nthe legislature has not force enough to execute the laws without the\ngood-will of the people. This is an irregular kind of check upon the\nlegislature.\n\nMen have much oftener erred from too great respect to government than\nfrom too little.\n\nThe French sugar colonies supplied entirely with provisions from our\nnorthern colonies.\n\n15000-20000 Hogsheads of tobacco exported to France at \u00a320 a hogshead;\nat \u00a35.\n\nThe gross produce of the English customs \u00a33,000,000 a-year; the neat\nproduce \u00a31,800,000.\n\nIn all the British Leeward Islands, the muster-roll exceeded not two\nthousand five hundred men a few years ago, and yet there are twenty\nthousand blacks in Antigua alone.\n\nThe French fish on the coasts of Newfoundland in the winter, which gives\nthem an advantage above us.\n\nOur bustle about the Ostend company, the cause of the great progress of\nthe French company.\n\nThe East India Company have desired to have China raw silk put upon the\nsame footing as to duty with the Italian, but have been refused.\n\nThe reason why the court has a greater superiority among the Lords than\nCommons, beside the bishops, is that the court gives places to the\nLords, chiefly for their interest among the Commons.\n\nEighteen hundred children put upon the parishes at Dublin in five years,\nof which, upon inquiry, there remained only twenty-eight.\n\nNinety-five thousand seamen computed to be in France; only sixty\nthousand in England.\n\nShips formerly lasted twenty-seven years in the English navy; now only\nthirteen.\n\nWithin the last two thousand years, almost all the despotic governments\nof the world have been improving, and the free ones degenerating; so\nthat now they are pretty near a par.\n\nThere must be a balance in all governments; and the inconvenience of\nallowing a single person to have any share is, that what may be too\nlittle for a balance in one hand will be too much in another.\n\nThe fiars of wheat, in 1400, were fixed at Edinburgh, 6 sh. 7 p. Scots\nmoney.\n\nBanks first invented in Sweden on account of their copper money.\n\nThere is not a word of trade in all Machiavel, which is strange,\nconsidering that Florence rose only by trade.\n\nAbout twenty thousand tun of wine imported into England about the time\nof the first Dutch war.--_Sir Josiah Child._\n\nOne per cent. in interest, worse than two per cent. in customs; because\nships pay the interest, not the customs.\n\nEight hundred thousand Jews chased from Spain by Ferdinand the\nCatholic.--_Geddes._[129:1]\n\nAbout 100,000 Moors condemned for apostacy, by the Inquisition, in forty\nyears. 4000 burned.--_Id._\n\nNear a million of Moors expelled Spain.--_Id._\n\nThe Commons of Castile, in taking arms against Charles the Fifth, among\nother things petition, that no sheep nor wool shall be allowed to go out\nof the kingdom.--_Id._\n\nThe interest in Rome reduced to six per cent. under Tiberius.--_Tacit._\n\nThe laws of Arragon required a public trial for the subjects: but\nallowed the king a kind of despotic power over his servants and\nministers, in order to render the great men less fond of court\npreferment.--_Geddes._\n\n'Twould be more easy for the English liberties to recover themselves\nthan the Roman, because of the mixed government. The transition is not\nso violent.\n\nThe farms were large among the ancients. The Leontine farms in Sicily\ncontained 130,000 acres, and were farmed to eighty-three\nfarmers.--_Cicero in Verrem._\n\nAfter the conquest of Egypt by Augustus, the prices of every thing\ndoubled in Rome.\n\nThe Roman colonies, in the time of Augustus, voted in their colonies,\nand sent their votes to Rome.\n\nThe Romans very exact in their book-keeping; in so much, that a crime,\nsuch as bribery or poisoning, could be proved or refuted from their\nbooks.--_Cic. pro Cluentio._\n\nThey also kept commentaries or ephemerides, wherein every action or word\nwas wrote down; at least Augustus practised this with his daughters and\nnieces.--_Sueton._\n\nIn Nero's time, 30,000 buried in one autumn, while there was a plague.\n\nMachiavel makes it a question, whether absolute power is best founded on\nthe nobility or the people. In my opinion, a subject who usurps upon a\nfree state, cannot trust the nobles, and must caress the people. This\nwas the case with the Roman emperors. But an established monarchy is\nbetter founded on the nobles.\n\nWhen the Lex Licinia was promulgated, the senate voted that it should be\nbinding from that moment, as if it had been voted by the people.\n\nIn 1721, the English and Dutch drew more money from Spain than France\ndid.--_Dict. de Com._\n\nThere is computed to be 3000 tun of gold in the bank of Amsterdam, at\n100,000 florins a tun.--_Id._\n\nA ship of 50 or 60 tun has commonly seven hands, and increases a man\nevery 10 tun.--_Id._\n\nThe French commerce sunk much about the middle of the seventeenth\ncentury, by reason of their infidelity in their goods.--_Id._\n\nThere seems to have been a very bad police in Rome; for Cicero says,\nthat if Milo had waylaid Clodius, he would have waited for him in the\nneighbourhood, where his death might have been attributed to robbers, by\nreason of the commonness of the accident; and yet Clodius had above\nsixty servants with him, all armed.\n\nThirty-eight holidays in the year in France.--_Vauban._ One hundred and\neighty working days at a medium.--_Id._\n\nThe people commonly live poorest in countries which have the richest\nnatural soil.\n\n600 slaves, working in the silver mines of Athens, yielded a mina a-day\nto their master Xenophon. He computes that 10,000 slaves would produce a\nrevenue of 100 talents a-year.\n\nThe holidays in Athens made two months in the year.--_Salmasius._\n\nThe public in Athens paid 20 per cent. for money.--_Xenophon._\n\nMany of the chief officers of the army were named by the people in old\nRome.--_Liv._ lib. ix. and lib. vii.\n\nThe Roman senate were obliged by law to give their authority to the\nComitia Centuriata before the suffrages were called.--_Id._ lib. viii.\ncap. 12.\n\nThe Pontifices of old Rome suppressed the records of their religion on\npurpose, as well as those of new Rome.--_Id._ lib. ix.\n\nEvery part of the office of the senate could be brought before the\npeople; even the distribution of provinces. An evident part of the\nexecutive.--_Id._ lib. x. cap. 24.\n\n\u00a360,000 sterling amassed beforehand for building the Capitol.--_Id._\nlib. i.\n\nPlays, a part of religious service for a pestilence.--_Id._ lib. vii.\n\nThe senators were forbid trade among the Romans.--_Id._ lib. viii. cap.\n63.\n\nIn the Roman government, there was a great restraint on liberty, since a\nman could not leave his colony, or live where he pleased.--_Id._ lib.\nxxxix. cap. 3.\n\nExternal superstition punished by the Romans.--_Id._ lib. xxxix. cap.\n16.\n\nThey were very jealous of the established religion.--_Id._ lib. xl. cap.\n29.\n\nRobbers established in legal companies in Egypt; and such captains as\nJonathan Wyld established.--_Diodorus Siculus._\n\nWhoever consecrated the tenth of their goods to Hercules, was esteemed\nsure of happiness by the Romans.--_Id._\n\nJupiter, according to the Cretan tradition, was a pious worshipper of\nthe gods; a clear proof that those people had a preceding\nreligion.--_Id._ lib. v.\n\nGradenigo's change of the Venetian republic was made in 1280.--_St.\nDidier._\n\nThe clergy are chosen by a popular call.--_Id._\n\nVossius says he saw in Rome, that, digging forty foot underground, they\nfound the tops of columns buried.\n\nHorses were very rare among the ancients, (before the Romans,) and not\nemployed in any thing but war. 1st, In the retreat of the ten thousand,\n'twould have been easy to have mounted the whole army, if horses had\nbeen as common as at present. 2d, They had about fifty horses, which,\ninstead of increasing, diminished during the road, though very useful.\n3d, In the spoils of villages, Xenophon frequently mentions sheep and\noxen; never horses. 4th, Cleombrotus' army, in lib. v. Hist. made use of\nasses for the carriages.\n\nDemosthenes tells the Athenians, that a very honest man of Macedonia,\nwho would not lie, told him such and such things of Philip's situation:\na kind of style that marks but bad intelligence, and little\ncommunication among the different states.--_Olynth._ 2.\n\nThe 30 tyrants killed about 1500 citizens untried.--_\u00c6schines._\n\nThrasybulus restoring the people, and C\u00e6sar's conquest, the only\ninstances in ancient history of revolutions without barbarous cruelty.\n\nThere seems to be a natural course of things which brings on the\ndestruction of great empires. They push their conquests till they come\nto barbarous nations, which stop their progress by the difficulty of\nsubsisting great armies. After that, the nobility and considerable men\nof the conquering nation and best provinces withdraw gradually from the\nfrontier army, by reason of its distance from the capital, and barbarity\nof the country in which they quarter. They forget the use of war. Their\nbarbarous soldiers become their masters. These have no law but their\nsword, both from their bad education, and from their distance from the\nsovereign to whom they bear no affection. Hence disorder, violence,\nanarchy, tyranny, and a dissolution of empire.\n\nPerseus's ambassadors to the Rhodians spoke a style like the modern,\nwith regard to the balance of power, but are condemned by Livy.--Lib.\nxlii. cap. 46.\n\nHerodotus makes a scruple of so much as delivering an account of the\ndifference of religion among foreigners, lest he should give\noffence.--Lib. ii.\n\nThe Egyptians more careful of preserving their cats than their houses in\ntime of fire.--_Id._\n\nPlutarch says, that the effect of the naval power of Athens, established\nby Themistocles, was to render their government more popular: and that\nhusbandmen and labourers are more friends to nobility than merchants and\nseamen are.--_In Vita Themist._\n\nSolon is the first person mentioned in history to have raised the value\nof money, which, says Plutarch, was a benefit to the poor in paying\ntheir debts, and no loss to the rich.--_In Vita Solon._\n\n\nPHILOSOPHY.\n\nMen love pleasure more than they hate pain.--_Bayle._\n\nMen are vicious, but hate a religion that authorizes vice.--_Id._\n\nThe accounts we have of the sentiments of the ancient philosophers not\nvery distinct nor consistent. Cicero contradicts himself in two\nsentences: in saying that Thales allowed the ordering of the world by a\nmind, and in saying that Anaxagoras was the first.\n\nStrato's atheism the most dangerous of the ancient--holding the origin\nof the world from nature, or a matter endued with activity. Bayle thinks\nthere are none but the Cartesians can refute this atheism.\n\nA Stratonician could retort the arguments of all the sects of\nphilosophy. Of the Stoics, who maintained their God to be fiery and\ncompound; and of the Platonicians, who asserted the ideas to be distinct\nfrom the Deity. The same question,--Why the parts or ideas of God had\nthat particular arrangement?--is as difficult as why the world had.\n\nSome pretend that there can be no necessity, according to the system of\natheism, \"because even matter cannot be determined without something\nsuperior to determine it.\"--_Fenelon._\n\nThree proofs of the existence of a God: 1st, Some thing necessarily\nexistent, and what is so is infinitely perfect. 2d, The idea of infinite\nmust come from an infinite being. 3d, The idea of infinite perfection\nimplies that of actual existence.\n\nThere is a remarkable story to confirm the Cartesian philosophy of the\nbrain. A man hurt by the fall of a horse, forgot about twenty years of\nhis life, and remembered what went before in a much more lively manner\nthan usual.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[106:1] Dr. Butler was consecrated bishop, 3d December, 1739, and was\nafterwards translated to the see of Durham, 16th October, 1750. He died\n16th June, 1752, in the 60th year of his age.\n\n[107:1] Tytler's Life of Kames, i. 90.\n\n[107:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[108:1] Tytler's Life of Kames, i. 93.\n\n[110:1] London Review, v. 200.\n\n[111:1] See above, p. 91.\n\n[113:1] Horat. Lib. i. Sat. iii. l. 98.\n\n[114:1] Edit. 1636, p. 5. \"Alexander the Sixth was endowed with\nwonderful cunning and extraordinary sagacity; had a surprising genius in\nsuggesting expedients in the cabinet, and uncommon efficacy in\npersuading; and in all matters of consequence an incredible earnestness\nand dexterity.\"--Goddard's Translation.\n\n[116:1] Dated, 12th November, 1739. MS. R.S.E.\n\n[116:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[117:1] He was born on 5th June, 1723.\n\n[118:1] See above, p. 78.\n\n[119:1] See this passage in the \"Treatise of Human Nature,\" Book iii.\npart i. sect. 1. where it appears with no other variation than the\nsubstitution of the word \"considerable,\" for mighty. It thus appears\nthat whatever remarks Hutcheson made on the passage, they were not such\nas to induce the author materially to alter it.\n\n[121:1] It may be questioned if any reader of Hume's works has been able\nto reconcile this admission of the existence of a moral sense, which,\naccording to his own account of it is an intuition, with his\nmetaphysical theory of impressions and ideas, notwithstanding his\ningenuity in ranking it among the impressions.\n\n[124:1] Book iii. part ii. sect. 10.\n\n[125:1] In the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[125:2] See p. 95.\n\n[125:3] This circumstance, showing that a portion of the manuscript has\nbeen written before the publication of these essays, points to the\npresent as the period to which a collection of extracts from the notes\nwill most aptly apply, although some of them may have been made at a\nlater date.\n\n[129:1] Miscellaneous Tracts, by Michael Geddes. 1730.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n1741-1745. \u00c6T. 30-34.\n\n     Publication of the Essays, Moral and Political--Their\n     Character--Correspondence with Home and Hutcheson--Hume's\n     Remarks on Hutcheson's System--Education and Accomplishments\n     of the Scottish Gentry--Hume's Intercourse with Mure of\n     Caldwell and Oswald of Dunnikier--Opinions on a Sermon by Dr.\n     Leechman--Attempts to succeed Dr. Pringle in the Chair of\n     Moral Philosophy in Edinburgh.\n\n\nA small duodecimo volume, the first of the \"Essays Moral and Political,\"\nwas published at Edinburgh in 1741, and the second was published in\n1742. The publication was anonymous; and it is remarkable that, although\nthus shielded, Hume appears to have, at that early period, been so\nanxious to disconnect himself with the authorship of the Treatise, that,\nin the advertisement, he addresses his readers as if he were then\nappearing as an author for the first time. \"Most of these essays,\" he\nsays, \"were wrote with a view of being published as weekly papers, and\nwere intended to comprehend the designs both of the Spectators and\nCraftsmen. But, having dropt that undertaking, partly from laziness,\npartly from want of leisure, and being willing to make trial of my\ntalents for writing before I ventured upon any more serious\ncompositions, I was induced to commit these trifles to the judgment of\nthe public. Like most new authors, I must confess I feel some anxiety\nconcerning the success of my work; but one thing makes me more\nsecure,--that the reader may condemn my abilities, but must approve of\nmy moderation and impartiality in my method of handling political\nsubjects; and, as long as my moral character is in safety, I can, with\nless anxiety, abandon my learning and capacity to the most severe\ncensure and examination.\"\n\nSome of the subjects of these essays were not less untrodden at the time\nwhen they appeared, than they are hackneyed in the present day. Of these\nmay be cited, \"The Liberty of the Press;\" \"The Parties of Great\nBritain;\" \"The Independency of Parliament.\" When they are compared with\nthe _Craftsman_, with _Mist's Journal_, and with the other periodicals\nof the day, which had set the example of discussing such subjects, these\nessays as little resemble their precursors, as De Lolme's \"Remarks on\nthe British Constitution\" do the articles in a daily London party paper.\nWhatever he afterwards became, Hume was at that time no party\npolitician. He retained the Stoic severity of thought with which we have\nfound that he had sixteen years previously invested himself; and would\nallow the excitements or rewards of no party in the state to drag him\nout of the even middle path of philosophical observation. There is\nconsequently a wonderful impartiality in these essays, and an acuteness\nof observation, which to the reader, who keeps in view how little the\ntrue workings of the constitution were noticed in that day, is not less\nremarkable. How completely, for instance, has the wisdom of the\nfollowing observations in the essay on \"The Liberty of the Press,\" been\njustified by the experience of a century.\n\n     We need not dread from this liberty any such ill consequences\n     as followed from the harangues of the popular demagogues of\n     Athens and tribunes of Rome. A man reads a book or pamphlet\n     alone and coolly. There is none present from whom he can catch\n     the passion by contagion. He is not hurried away by the force\n     and energy of action. And should he be wrought up to never so\n     seditious a humour, there is no violent resolution presented\n     to him by which he can immediately vent his passion. The\n     liberty of the press, therefore, however abused, can scarce\n     ever excite popular tumults or rebellion. And as to those\n     murmurs or secret discontents it may occasion, 'tis better\n     they should get vent in words, that they may come to the\n     knowledge of the magistrate before it be too late, in order to\n     his providing a remedy against them. Mankind, 'tis true, have\n     always a greater propension to believe what is said to the\n     disadvantage of their governors than the contrary; but this\n     inclination is inseparable from them whether they have liberty\n     or not. A whisper may fly as quick, and be as pernicious as a\n     pamphlet. Nay, it will be more pernicious, where men are not\n     accustomed to think freely, or distinguish betwixt truth and\n     falsehood.\n\n     It has also been found, as the experience of mankind\n     increases, that the _people_ are no such dangerous monster as\n     they have been represented, and that 'tis in every respect\n     better to guide them like rational creatures, than to lead or\n     drive them like brute beasts. Before the United Provinces set\n     the example, toleration was deemed incompatible with good\n     government; and 'twas thought impossible that a number of\n     religious sects could live together in harmony and peace, and\n     have all of them an equal affection to their common country\n     and to each other. England has set a like example of civil\n     liberty; and though this liberty seems to occasion some small\n     ferment at present, it has not as yet produced any pernicious\n     effects; and it is to be hoped that men, being every day more\n     accustomed to the free discussion of public affairs, will\n     improve in their judgment of them, and be with greater\n     difficulty seduced by every idle rumour and popular clamour.\n\n     'Tis a very comfortable reflection to the lovers of liberty,\n     that this peculiar privilege of Britain is of a kind that\n     cannot easily be wrested from us, and must last as long as our\n     government remains in any degree free and independent. 'Tis\n     seldom that liberty of any kind is lost all at once. Slavery\n     has so frightful an aspect to men accustomed to freedom, that\n     it must steal in upon them by decrees, and must disguise\n     itself in a thousand shapes in order to be received. But if\n     the liberty of the press ever be lost, it must be lost at\n     once. The general laws against sedition and libelling are at\n     present as strong as they possibly can be made. Nothing can\n     impose a farther restraint but either the clapping an\n     imprimatur upon the press, or the giving very large\n     discretionary powers to the court to punish whatever\n     displeases them. But these concessions would be such a\n     barefaced violation of liberty, that they will probably be the\n     last efforts of a despotic government. We may conclude that\n     the liberty of Britain is gone for ever when these attempts\n     shall succeed.\n\nThe opinion generally acceded to at the present day, that ministerial\nand judicial functions should be intrusted to responsible individuals,\nand not to bodies of men who may individually escape from a joint\nresponsibility, is anticipated in the following passage:--\"Honour\nis a great check upon mankind; but where a considerable body of\nmen act together, this check is in a great measure removed, since\na man is sure to be approved of by his own party for what promotes\nthe common interest, and he soon learns to despise the clamour of\nadversaries.\"[139:1] The Grenville Act, and the subsequent measures for\nreducing the number of the judges on controverted elections, are a\npractical commentary on the truth of this remark.\n\nIt has often been observed, that foreigners have been the first to\nremark the leading peculiarities of the British constitution, and of the\nadministration of justice in this country, in a manner rational and\nunimpassioned, yet so as to give them greater prominence, and a more\nfull descriptive development than they obtain from our own impassioned\nparty writers--an observation attested by the character which the works\nof Montesquieu and De Lolme held in the preceding century, and those of\nThierry, Cottu, Meyer, and Raumer, have obtained in the present.\nThe reason of this superiority is to be sought in the circumstance that\nthe acuteness of these foreign observers was not obscured, or their\nfeelings excited, by any connexion with the workings of the systems they\nhave described; and the isolation from active life in which Hume was\nplaced, appears to have in some measure given him like qualifications\nfor the examination of our political institutions. He expresses a\ngeneral partiality for the monarchical government of Britain, but it is\na partiality of a calm utilitarian character, which would not be\ninconsistent with an equally great esteem for a well-ordered republic.\nOn his philosophical appreciation of its merits, the monarchy has no\nstronger claims than these--that to have an individual at the head of\nthe government who is merely the name through which other persons act,\nand who is not amenable to any laws, while the real actors are\npersonally responsible for what they do in his name, is an expedient\narrangement. That it is very convenient to have some fixed criterion\nsuch as the hereditary principle, which shall obviate the trouble and\ndanger of a competition for this elevated station. But that these are\nall recommendations on the ground of expediency, which may be outweighed\nby others, and the misconduct of a weak or tyrannical prince will\njustify an alteration in that arrangement, which convenience only, and\nthe avoidance of occasions for turbulence and anarchy, have sanctioned.\n\nIt may be observed, that in the edition of these essays which he\ndirected to be published after his death, many of those passages which\nbear a democratic tendency are suppressed. Such was the fate of the\npassage in \"The Liberty of the Press\" quoted above, and of the remarks\nput within brackets in the quotation which follows, from the essay on\n\"The Parties of Great Britain.\"\n\n     Some who will not venture to assert, that the real difference\n     between Whig and Tory, was lost at the Revolution, seem\n     inclined to think that the difference is now abolished, and\n     that affairs are so far returned to their natural state, that\n     there are at present no other parties amongst us but court and\n     country; that is, men who, by interest or principle, are\n     attached either to monarchy or to liberty. It must indeed be\n     confessed, that the Tory party has of late decayed much in\n     their numbers, still more in their zeal, and I may venture to\n     say, still more in their credit and authority. [There is no\n     man of knowledge or learning, who would not be ashamed to be\n     thought of that party; and in almost all companies, the name\n     of _Old Whig_ is mentioned as an incontestible appellation of\n     honour and dignity. Accordingly, the enemies of the ministry,\n     as a reproach, call the courtiers the true _Tories_; and, as\n     an honour, denominate the gentlemen in the _Opposition_ the\n     true _Whigs_.] The Tories have been so long obliged to talk in\n     the republican style, that they seem to have made converts of\n     themselves by their hypocrisy, and to have embraced the\n     sentiments as well as language of their adversaries. There\n     are, however, very considerable remains of that party in\n     England, with all their old prejudices; and a proof that court\n     and country are not our only parties, is, that almost all our\n     dissenters side with the court, and the lower clergy, at least\n     of the Church of England, with the opposition. This may\n     convince us that some bias still hangs upon our constitution,\n     some extrinsic weight which turns it from its natural course,\n     and causes a confusion in our parties.[141:1]\n\nPerhaps the most ambitious of the essays, and those on which the author\nbestowed most of his skill and attention, are \"The Epicurean,\" \"The\nStoic,\" \"The Sceptic,\" and \"The Platonist.\" These are productions of the\nimagination, suggested apparently by the style and method of _The\nSpectator_. There is no attempt either to support or to attack the\nsystems represented by the names of the essays, nor is there a\ndescription or definition of them; but on each occasion a member of one\nof these celebrated schools speaks in his own person, and describes the\nnature of the satisfaction that he finds in his own code of philosophy,\nas a solution of the great difficulty of the right rule of thought and\naction. \"The Epicurean\" takes a flight of imagination beyond that of\nHume's other works. It departs from the cold atmosphere of philosophy,\nand desires to fascinate as well as enlighten. But though it possesses\nall the marks of a fine intellect, the reader is apt to feel how far\nmore sweetly and gracefully the subject would have been handled by\nAddison, to whose department of literature it seems rightly to belong.\nThe follower of Epicurus is not represented, as indulging in that gross\nlicentiousness, as wallowing in that disgusting \"stye\" which the\nrepresentations of Diogenes Laertius, and others, have impressed on the\nvulgar associations with the name of that master. On the other hand, the\npicture is far from embodying what many maintain to be the fundamental\nprecept of Epicurus, that happiness being the great end sought by man,\nthe proper method of reaching it is by the just regulation of the\npassions and propensities; a precept embodied in the\n\n     \"Sperne voluptates. Nocet empta dolere voluptas.\"\n\nHume, who was not correcting errors, or instructing his readers in the\ntrue meaning of terms, or appreciation of characters, draws in \"The\nEpicurean\" a picture of one who is not gross or grovelling in his\npleasures, and who restrains himself lest he should outrun enjoyment;\nbut whose ruling principle is still that of the voluptuary.\n\nThe reader expects to find an attempt to draw his own picture in \"The\nSceptic;\" but it is not to be found there. The sceptic of the essays is\nnot a man analyzing the principles of knowledge, to find wherein they\nconsist, but one who is dissatisfied with rules of morality, and who,\nexamining the current codes one after another, tosses them aside as\nunsatisfactory. It is into \"The Stoic\" that the writer has thrown most\nof his heart and sympathy; and it is in that sketch that, though\nprobably without intention, some of the features of his own character\nare portrayed. There are passages which have considerable unison of tone\nwith those autobiographical documents already quoted, in which he\ndescribes himself as having laboured to subdue the rebellious passions,\nto reduce the mind to a regulated system, to drive from it the influence\nof petty impressions,--to hold one great object of life in view, and to\nsacrifice before that object whatever stood in the way of his firmly\nsettled purpose.\n\nOf the success of these essays, and the method in which he occupied\nhimself after their publication, he thus speaks in his \"own life:\"--\"The\nwork was favourably received, and soon made me entirely forget my former\ndisappointment. I continued with my mother and brother in the country,\nand in that time recovered the knowledge of the Greek language, which I\nhad too much neglected in my early youth.\" On 13th June, 1742, he says\nto Henry Home:--\"The _Essays_ are all sold in London, as I am informed\nby two letters from English gentlemen of my acquaintance. There is a\ndemand for them; and, as one of them tells me, Innys, the great\nbookseller in Paul's Churchyard, wonders there is not a new edition, for\nthat he cannot find copies for his customers. I am also told that Dr.\nButler has every where recommended them; so that I hope they will have\nsome success. They may prove like dung with marl, and bring forward the\nrest of my Philosophy, which is of a more durable, though of a harder\nand more stubborn nature. You see I can talk to you in your own style.\"\nIn consequence of this favourable reception, a second edition appeared\nin 1742.\n\nThe communication of which the above is a part, contains the following\nshort essay on the Orations of Cicero:--\n\n     I agree with you, that Cicero's reasonings in his \"Orations\"\n     are very often loose, and what we should think to be wandering\n     from the point; insomuch, that now-a-days a lawyer, who should\n     give himself such liberties, would be in danger of meeting\n     with a reprimand from the judge, or at least of being\n     admonished of the point in question. His Orations against\n     Verres, however, are an exception; though that plunderer was\n     so impudent and open in his robberies, that there is the less\n     merit in his conviction and condemnation. However, these\n     orations have all a very great merit. The Oration for Milo is\n     commonly esteemed Cicero's masterpiece, and indeed is, in many\n     respects, very beautiful; but there are some points in the\n     reasoning of it that surprise me. The true story of the death\n     of Clodius, as we learn from the Roman historians, was\n     this:--It was only a casual rencontre betwixt Milo and him;\n     and the squabble was begun by their servants, as they passed\n     each other on the road. Many of Clodius's servants were\n     killed, the rest dispersed, and himself wounded, and obliged\n     to hide himself in some neighbouring shops; from whence he was\n     dragged out by Milo's orders, and killed in the street. These\n     circumstances must have been largely insisted on by the\n     prosecutors, and must have been proved too, since they have\n     been received as truth by all antiquity. But not a word of\n     them in Cicero, whose oration only labours to prove two\n     points, that Milo did not waylay Clodius, and that Clodius was\n     a bad citizen, and it was meritorious to kill him. If you read\n     his oration, you'll agree with me. I believe that he has\n     scarce spoke any thing to the question, as it would now be\n     conceived, by a court of judicature.\n\n     The Orations for Marcellus and Ligarius, as also that for\n     Archias, are very fine, and chiefly because the subjects do\n     not require or admit of close reasoning.\n\n     'Tis worth your while to read the conclusion of the Oration\n     for Plancius, where I think the passions are very well\n     touched. There are many noble passages in the Oration for\n     Mur\u00e6na, though 'tis certain that the prosecutors (who,\n     however, were Servius Sulpicius, and Cato,) must either have\n     said nothing to the purpose, or Cicero has said nothing. There\n     is some of that oration lost.\n\n     'Twould be a pleasure to read and compare the two first\n     philippics, that you may judge of the manners of those times,\n     compared to modern manners. When Cicero spoke the first\n     philippic, Antony and he had not broke all measures with each\n     other, but there were still some remains of a very great\n     intimacy and friendship betwixt them; and besides, Cicero\n     lived in close correspondence with all the rest of C\u00e6sar's\n     captains; Dolabella had been his son-in-law; Hirtius and Pansa\n     were his pupils; Trebasius was entirely his creature. For this\n     reason, prudence laid him under great restraints at that time\n     in his declamations against Antony; there is great elegance\n     and delicacy in them; and many of the thoughts are very fine,\n     particularly where he mentions his meeting Brutus, who had\n     been obliged to leave Rome. \"I was ashamed,\" says he, \"that I\n     durst return to Rome after Brutus had left it, and that I\n     could be in safety where he could not.\" In short, the whole\n     oration is of such a strain, that the Duke of Argyle might\n     have spoke it in the House of Peers against my Lord Orford;\n     and decency would not allow the greatest enemies to go\n     farther. But this oration is not much admired by the ancients.\n     The _Divine Philippic_, as Juvenal calls it, is the second,\n     where he gives a full loose to his scurrility; and without\n     having any point to gain by it, except vilifying his\n     antagonist, and without supporting any fact by witnesses (for\n     there was no trial or accusation) he rakes into all the filth\n     of Antony's character; reproaches him with drunkenness and\n     vomiting, and cowardice, and every sort of debauchery and\n     villany. There is great genius and wit in many passages of\n     this oration; but I think the whole turn of it would not now\n     be generally admired.[145:1]\n\nIn 1742, Hutcheson published his celebrated outline of a system of\nethics, \"Philosophi\u00e6 Moralis Institutio Compendiaria.\" The following\nletter contains Hume's remarks on the work; and to render them more\nintelligible, the passages he had particularly in view are printed in\nnotes. It is not, however, as pieces of detached criticism, so much as\nin the character of an elucidation of those features of his own system\nin which it differs from that of Hutcheson, that the letter is valuable.\nIt is an argument for the utilitarian system of morality--an argument\nthat there is no _summum bonum_ which should be the object of moral\nconduct, apart from the good of the human species.\n\n\nHUME _to_ FRANCIS HUTCHESON.\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I received your very agreeable present, for which I esteem\nmyself much obliged to you. I think it needless to express to you my\nesteem of the performance, because both the solidity of your judgment,\nand the general approbation your writings meet with, instruct you\nsufficiently what opinion you ought to form of them. Though your good\nnature might prompt you to encourage me by some praises, the same reason\nhas not place with me, however justice might require them of me. Will\nnot this prove that justice and good nature are not the same? I am\nsurprised you should have been so diffident about your Latin. I have not\nwrote any in that language these many years, and cannot pretend to judge\nof particular words and phrases. But the turn of the whole seems to me\nvery pure, and even easy and elegant.\n\n\"I have subjoined a few reflections, which occurred to me in reading\nover the book. By these I pretend only to show you how much I thought\nmyself obliged to you for the pains you took with me in a like case, and\nhow willing I am to be grateful.\n\n\"P. 9, l. _ult. et qu\u00e6 seq._[147:1] These instincts you mention seem not\nalways to be violent and impetuous, more than self-love or benevolence.\nThere is a calm ambition, a calm anger or hatred, which, though calm,\nmay likewise be very strong, and have the absolute command over the\nmind. The more absolute they are, we find them to be commonly the\ncalmer. As these instincts may be calm without being weak, so self-love\nmay likewise become impetuous and disturbed, especially where any great\npain or pleasure approaches.\n\n\"P. 21. l. 11.[147:2] In opposition to this, I shall cite a fine\nwriter,--not for the sake of his authority, but for the fact, which you\nmay have observed. 'Les hommes comptent presque pour rien toutes les\nvertus du coeur, et idol\u00e2trent les talens du corps et de l'esprit:\ncelui qui dit froidement de soi, et sans croire blesser la modestie,\nqu'il est bon, qu'il est constant, fid\u00e8le, sinc\u00e8re, \u00e9quitable,\nreconnoissant, n'ose dire qu'il est vif, qu'il a les dents belles et la\npeau douce: cela est trop fort.'--_La Bruyere._[148:1]\n\n\"I fancy, however, this author stretches the matter too far. It seems\narrogant to pretend to genius or magnanimity, which are the most shining\nqualities a man can possess. It seems foppish and frivolous to pretend\nto bodily accomplishments. The qualities of the heart lie in a medium;\nand are neither so shining as the one, nor so little valued as the\nother. I suppose the reason why good nature is not more valued, is its\ncommonness, which has a vast effect on all our sentiments. Cruelty and\nhardness of heart is the most detested of all vices. I always thought\nyou limited too much your ideas of virtue; and I find I have this\nopinion in common with several that have a very high esteem for your\nphilosophy.\n\n\"P. 30, l. _antepen. et qu\u00e6 seq._[148:2] You seem here to embrace Dr.\nButler's opinion in his \"Sermons on Human Nature,\" that our moral sense\nhas an authority distinct from its force and durableness; and that\nbecause we always think it _ought_ to prevail. But this is nothing but\nan instinct or principle, which approves of itself upon reflection, and\nthat is common to all of them. I am not sure that I have not mistaken\nyour sense, since you do not prosecute this thought.\n\n\"P. 52. l. 1. I fancy you employ the epithet _\u00e6rumnosam_[149:1] more\nfrom custom than your settled opinion.\n\n\"P. 129, _et qu\u00e6 seq._[149:2] You sometimes, in my opinion, ascribe the\noriginal of property and justice to public benevolence, and sometimes to\nprivate benevolence towards the possessors of the goods; neither of\nwhich seem to me satisfactory. You know my opinion on this head. It\nmortifies me much to see a person who possesses more candour and\npenetration than any almost I know, condemn reasonings of which I\nimagine I see so strongly the evidence. I was going to blot out this\nafter having wrote it, but hope you will consider it only as a piece of\nfolly, as indeed it is.\n\n\"P. 244, l. 7.[149:3] You are so much afraid to derive any thing of\nvirtue from artifice or human conventions, that you have neglected what\nseems to me the most satisfactory reason, viz. lest near relations,\nhaving so many opportunities in their youth, might debauch each other,\nif the least encouragement or hope was given to these desires, or if\nthey were not easily repressed by an artificial horror inspired against\nthem.\n\n\"P. 263, l. 14. As the phrase is true Latin, and very common, it seemed\nnot to need an apology, as when necessity obliges one to employ modern\nwords.[150:1]\n\n\"P. 266, l. 18, _et qu\u00e6 seq._[150:2] You imply a condemnation of Locke's\nopinion, which, being the received one, I could have wished the\ncondemnation had been more express.\n\n\"These are the most material things that occurred to me upon a perusal\nof your ethics. I must own I am pleased to see such just philosophy, and\nsuch instructive morals to have once set their foot in the schools. I\nhope they will next get into the world, and then into the churches.\n\n     Nil desperandum, Teucro duce et auspice Teucro.\n\n\"_Edinb. Jan. 10, 1743._\"\n\n\nAmong the Scottish gentry of Hume's day, there were many men of high\neducation and accomplishments; and the glimpses we occasionally obtain\ninto the society which he frequented, show us a circle possessing a much\nless provincial tone than later times would probably have exhibited in\nthe same class. The notion that a university was a seat of learning,\nwhere the scholarship of all the world should meet, and not a provincial\nschool, still lingered in our country, and prompted the gentry to\neducate their sons abroad. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,\nthe registers of the universities of Paris, Bourg\u00e8s, Bologna, and\nLeyden, were crowded with familiar Scottish names, whom we find holding\nas great a proportion among the teachers as among the learners; and thus\na Wilson, a Barclay, a Bellenden, a Jack, and many others, whose fame\nhardly reached their native country, are conspicuous among the literary\nornaments of the foreign universities. It is perhaps in a great measure\nto the lingering continuance of this practice through part of the\neighteenth century, that we may attribute the learning and\naccomplishments of the society in Scotland during that period.[151:1]\n\n\"Many are poets who have never penned their inspiration, and perchance\nthe best.\" Many also are philosophers who have never either penned their\nphilosophy, or put it into shape in their own minds. The two operations\nof induction and analysis proceed in every human mind with more or less\nsuccess; but it is only when literary ambition, or pecuniary necessity,\nor the desire to head a system, prompts a man to collect and put into\nshape their results, that they are given to the world. Instances have\noccurred in which they have appeared very nearly in their raw unwrought\nform. Thus, Tucker's \"Light of Nature\" is nothing more than the\nreflections of an English country gentleman, collected and strung\ntogether. Paley and Reid used them as if they had themselves gone\nthrough the operation, and put the results into shape; while the late\nWilliam Hazlitt was at the pains of writing an abridgment of the book.\nIt was fortunate for philosophy that these disconnected observations and\nthoughts were collected and preserved. And the reflection leads to the\nrecollection of the quantity of valuable thoughts that any man, who\nnotices the course of conversation around him, hears produced and\ndropped. In after-dinner social intercourse, in general verbal criticism\nof books or men, how much of the gold of true philosophy is scattered\naway with the dross; lost almost at the moment it is uttered, and\nforgotten both by hearer and speaker.\n\nIt is interesting to have so much of this valuable matter, as may have\nfound its way into epistolary correspondence, preserved. The\nconversation of Hume's friends we have unfortunately lost, for there was\nno Boswell at his elbow. But their letters show how much of scholarship,\nand elegant literature, and philosophy slumbered in the minds of the\nScottish gentry of that age; and assure us that in his intercourse with\nan Elliot, a Mure, an Edmonstone, an Elibank, a Macdonald, an Oswald,\nHume was exchanging ideas with men not unworthy of literary fellowship\nwith a mind even so highly cultivated as his own.\n\nWilliam Mure of Caldwell, who was in 1761 made a Baron of the Exchequer\nin Scotland, was among those who seem to have earliest secured and\nlongest retained Hume's esteem. The letters which passed between them\nare not often dated, but the circumstances under which many of them are\nwritten are attested by internal evidence. The following is one of the\nfew which do not admit of being thus tested, but its merit is in a vein\nof quiet, easy, epistolary humour, rather than in its connexion with the\nevents of the writer's life.\n\n\nHUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.\n\n\"_September 10._\n\n\"I made a pen, dipt it in ink, and set myself down in a posture of\nwriting, before I had thought of any subject, or made provision of one\nsingle thought, by which I might entertain you. I trusted to my better\ngenius that he would supply me in a case of such urgent necessity; but\nhaving thrice scratched my head, and thrice bit my nails, nothing\npresented itself, and I threw away my pen in great indignation. 'O! thou\ninstrument of dulness,' says I, 'doest thou desert me in my greatest\nnecessity? and, being thyself so false a friend, hast thou a secret\nrepugnance at expressing my friendship to the faithful Mure, who knows\nthee too well ever to trust to thy caprices, and who never takes thee in\nhis hand without reluctance. While I, miserable wretch that I am, have\nput my chief confidence in thee; and, relinquishing the sword, the gown,\nthe cassock, and the toilette, have trusted to thee alone for my fortune\nand my fame. Begone! avaunt! Return to the goose from whence thou\ncamest. With her thou wast of some use, while thou conveyedst her\nthrough the etherial regions. And why, alas! when plucked from her wing,\nand put into my hand, doest thou not recognise some similitude betwixt\nit and thy native soil, and render me the same service, in aiding the\nflights of my heavy imagination?'\n\n\"Thus accused, the pen erected itself upon its point, placed itself\nbetwixt my fingers and my thumb, and moved itself to and fro upon this\npaper, to inform you of the story, complain to you of my injustice, and\ndesire your good offices to the reconciling such ancient friends. But\nnot to speak nonsense any longer, (by which, however, I am glad I have\nalready filled a page of paper,) I arrived here about three weeks ago,\nam in good health, and very deeply immersed in books and study. Tell\nyour sister, Miss Betty, (after having made her my compliments,) that I\nam as grave as she imagines a philosopher should be,--laugh only once a\nfortnight, sigh tenderly once a week, but look sullen every moment. In\nshort, none of Ovid's metamorphoses ever showed so absolute a change\nfrom a human creature into a beast; I mean, from a gallant into a\nphilosopher.\n\n\"I doubt not but you see my Lord Glasgow very often, and therefore I\nshall suppose, when I write to one, I pay my respects to both. At least,\nI hope he will so far indulge my laziness. _Hanc veniam petimusque\ndamusque vicissim._\n\n\"Did you receive my letter from Glasgow? I hope it did not displease\nyou. What are your resolutions with regard to that affair?\n\n\"Remember me to your sister, Miss Nancy, to Miss Dunlop, and to Mr.\nLeechman. Tell your mother, or sisters, or whoever is most concerned\nabout the matter, that their cousin, John Steuart, is in England, and,\nas 'tis believed, will return with a great fortune.\n\n\"I say not a word of Mr. Hutcheson, for fear you should think I intend\nto run the whole circle of my West-country acquaintance, and to make you\na bearer of a great many formal compliments. But I remember you all\nvery kindly, and desire to be remembered by you, and to be spoke of\nsometimes, and to be wrote to.\"[155:1]\n\n\nThe following letter is in reference to Mr. Mure having been chosen\nmember of Parliament for Renfrewshire as successor to Alexander\nCunningham, on whose death a new writ was moved on 22d November, 1742.\nThe advice which this letter offers to a young statesman, seems to be\nboth sagacious and honest.\n\n\nHUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.\n\n\"I have wrote to Mr. Oswald[155:2] by this post, in order to promote an\nintimacy and friendship betwixt you. I exhort you to persevere in your\nintention of cultivating a friendship with him. You cannot possibly find\na man of more worth, of a gentler disposition, or better understanding.\nThere are infinite advantages attending an intimacy with such persons;\namong which this is not the least, as far as I can judge by my own\nexperience, that I always derive from it an additional motive to\npreserve my character for honour and integrity; because I know that\nnothing else can preserve their friendship. Should I give you an\nexhortation of this kind, you might think me very impertinent; though\nreally you ought to ascribe it more to my friendship, than my\ndiffidence. 'Tis impossible ever to think ourselves secure enough, where\nour concern is extremely great; and, though I dare be confident of your\ngood conduct, as of my own, yet you must also allow me to be diffident\nof it, as I should be of my own. When I consider your disposition to\nvirtue, cultivated by letters, together with your moderation, I cannot\ndoubt of your steadiness. The delicacy of the times does not diminish\nthis assurance, but only dashes it with a few fears, which rise in me\nwithout my approbation, and against my judgment. Let a strict frugality\nbe the guardian of your virtue; and preserve your frugality by a close\napplication to business and study. Nothing would so effectually throw\nyou into the lumber and refuse of the house as your departure from your\nengagements at this time; as a contrary behaviour will secure your own\ngood opinion, and that of all mankind. These advantages are not too\ndearly purchased even by the loss of fortune, but it belongs to your\nprudence and frugality to procure them, without paying so dear a\npurchase for them. I say no more; and hope you will ascribe what I have\nsaid, not to the pedagogue, or even to the philosopher, but to the\nfriend. I make profession of being such with regard to you; and desire\nyou to consider me as such no longer than I shall appear to be a man of\nhonour. Yours.\"\n\n_January 26._[156:1]\n\n\nAmong Hume's friends in early life, we find James Oswald of Dunnikier,\nwho is mentioned in the foregoing letter--a name pretty well known in\nthe political history of Scotland. He was elected member for the\nKirkaldy district of burghs in 1741. He filled successively the\nsituations of Commissioner of the Navy, Member of the Board of Trade,\nLord of the Treasury, and Treasurer of Ireland. He was well read in the\nsources of literary information, and brought to his official duties a\nsagacious, practical understanding, which made him infinitely\nserviceable to the speculative labours of his two illustrious friends,\nHume and Smith. \"I know,\" says Hume, \"you are the most industrious and\nthe most indolent man of my acquaintance; the former in business, the\nlatter in ceremony.\"[157:1] We have occasional glimpses of philosophical\nrambles, not unmixed with a little conviviality, in which Oswald\nsometimes embarked with his speculative friends. \"You will remember,\" he\nsays, writing to Henry Home in 1742, \"how your friend David Hume and\nyou, used to laugh at a most sublime declamation I one night made, after\na drunken expedition to Cupar, on the impotency of corruption in certain\ncircumstances; how I maintained, that on certain occasions, men felt, or\nseemed to feel, a certain dignity in themselves, which made them disdain\nto act on sordid motives: and how I imagined it to be extremely\npossible, in such situations, that even the lowest of men might become\nsuperior to the highest temptations.\"[157:2] The political course which\nhe afterwards adopted, however, was not precisely of this soaring cast,\nbut savoured more of the school of practical expedients founded by Sir\nRobert Walpole. We shall afterwards have occasion to see his intercourse\nwith Hume illustrated at greater length.\n\nThe following letter to Mure, contains a pretty sagacious division of\nthe prominent political movements of the day, into those which a\nsupporter of the court party would advocate, and those which he would\noppose. Hume seems to have had some dread lest the spirit of what was\nthen termed patriotism, might sway an inexperienced, young, and aspiring\npolitician into devious paths, inconsistent with the straight road of\nduty and devotion to an adopted party. But Mure seems to have been a\nsagacious steady-minded man, not likely to be seduced out of the path he\nhad chosen. He was subsequently much relied on by Lord Bute, and rose\nto eminence and distinction as a Tory politician. The letter exhibits a\nplayful practice of talking of his correspondents as his pupils, which\nHume adopted sometimes with those who had least sympathy with his\nprinciples, unless they were clergymen, or otherwise likely to take the\nfamiliarity in bad part.\n\n\nHUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.\n\n\"I am surprised you should find fault with my letter. For my part, I\nesteem it the best I ever wrote. There is neither barbarism, solecism,\nequivoque, redundancy, nor transgression of one single rule of grammar\nor rhetoric, through the whole. The words were chosen with an exact\npropriety to the sense, and the sense was full of masculine strength and\nenergy. In short, it comes up fully to the Duke of Buckingham's\ndescription of fine writing,--_Exact propriety of words and thought_.\nThis is more than what can be said of most compositions. But I shall not\nbe redundant in the praise of brevity, though much might be said on that\nsubject. To conclude all, I shall venture to affirm, that my last letter\nwill be equal in bulk to all the orations you shall deliver, during the\ntwo first sessions of parliament. For, let all the letters of my epistle\nbe regularly divided, they will be found equivalent to a dozen of _No's_\nand as many _Ay's_. There will be found a _No_ for the triennial bill,\nfor the pension bill, for the bill about regulating elections, for the\nbill of pains and penalties against Lord Orford, &c. There will also be\nfound an Ay for the standing army,[158:1] for votes of credit, for the\napprobation of treaties, &c. As to the last _No_ I mentioned, with\nregard to Lord Orford, I beg it of you as a particular favour. For,\nhaving published to all Britain my sentiments on that affair, it will be\nthought by all Britain that I have no influence on you, if your\nsentiments be not conformable to mine. Besides, as you are my disciple\nin religion and morals, why should you not be so in politics? I entreat\nyou to get the bill about witches repealed, and to move for some new\nbill to secure the Christian religion, by burning Deists, Socinians,\nMoralists, and Hutchinsonians.\n\n\"I shall be in town about Christmas, where, if I find not Lord Glasgow,\nI shall come down early in the spring to the borders of the Atlantic\nOcean, and rejoice the Tritons and sea-gods with the prospect of\nKelburn[159:1] in a blaze. For I find, that is the only way to unnestle\nhis lordship. But I intend to use the freedom to write to himself on\nthis subject, if you will tell me how to direct to him. In the meantime\ndo you make use of all your eloquence and argument to that purpose.\n\n\"Make my humble compliments to the ladies, and tell them, I should\nendeavour to satisfy them, if they would name the subject of the essay\nthey desire. For my part, I know not a better subject than themselves;\nif it were not, that being accused of being unintelligible in some of my\nwritings, I should be extremely in danger of falling into that fault,\nwhen I should treat of a subject so little to be understood as women. I\nwould, therefore, rather have them assign me the deiform fund of the\nsoul, the passive unions of nothing with nothing, or any other of those\nmystical points, which I would endeavour to clear up, and render\nperspicuous to the meanest readers.\n\n\"Allow not Miss Dunlop to forget, that she has a humble servant, who\nhas the misfortune to be divided from her, by the whole breadth of this\nisland. I know she never forgets her friends; but, as I dare not pretend\nto that relation, upon so short an acquaintance, I must be beholden to\nyour good offices for preserving me in her memory; because I suspect\nmightily that she is apt to forget and overlook those who can aspire no\nhigher than the relation I first mentioned.\n\n\"This, I think, is enough in all conscience. I see you are tired with my\nlong letter, and begin to yawn. What! can nothing satisfy you, and must\nyou grumble at every thing? I hope this is a good prognostic of your\nbeing a patriot.\"[160:1]\n\n\"_Nov. 14th._\"\n\n\nIn the course of these Memoirs there will be many occasions for\nexhibiting Hume's acquaintance with some of the most distinguished\nclergymen of his time, and the mutual esteem which he and they\nentertained towards each other. Among those members of the Presbyterian\nchurch, with whom he appears to have had the most early intercourse, we\nfind the name of Dr. Leechman, who was his senior by about five years.\nThey probably got acquainted with each other in the family of the Mures\nof Caldwell, where Leechman had been tutor to Hume's friend and\ncorrespondent. Whatever other jealousies or distastes may have occurred\nbetween them, it would be no drawback to their subsequent intimacy, that\nLeechman was by his marriage with Miss Balfour, the brother-in-law of\none of Hume's most zealous controversial opponents, Mr. Balfour of\nPilrig. Dr. Leechman was for many years professor of divinity in the\nuniversity of Glasgow, of which he afterwards became principal.\nHis sermons, now little known, stood at one time in formidable rivalry\nwith those of Blair. He appears to have been a man who united settled\nreligious principles with a calm conscientious inquiring mind; and the\naccount which his biographer, the Rev. James Wodrow, gives of his\nlectures, is characteristic of one who had too much respect for truth to\nhate or contemn any man engaged in purely metaphysical inquiries,\nwhatever might be the opinions to which they led him. We are told, that\n\"no dictatorial opinion, no infallible or decisive judgment on any great\ncontroverted point, was ever delivered from that theological chair.\nAfter the point had undergone a full discussion, none of the students\nyet knew the particular opinion of this venerable professor, in any\nother way than by the superior weight of the arguments which he had\nbrought under their view; so delicately scrupulous was he to throw any\nbias at all upon ingenuous minds, in their inquiries after sacred\ntruth.\"[161:1]\n\nThere is a letter by Hume to Baron Mure, containing a criticism on the\ncomposition and substance of a sermon by Dr. Leechman. From the general\ntenor of the letter, it would appear that the sermon was placed in\nHume's hands that the author might have the advantage of his suggestions\nin preparing a second edition for the press. The criticisms on style and\ncollocation are careful and minute, but they all indicate blemishes\npeculiar to the piece of composition before the critic, and suggest\ncorresponding improvements; and none of them appear so far to illustrate\nany canon of criticism as to be intelligible to a reader who has not\nthe sermon in his hands, in the same state as that in which it was\ninspected by Hume. These corrective annotations precede the following\ngeneral remarks on the sermon and its subject. There may be seen in\nthese remarks a desire, which haunts the whole of Hume's writings on\nkindred subjects; a desire to call forth argument and evidence in\nsupport of that side from which he himself feels inclined to dissent;\nlike the unsatisfied feeling of one who would rather find refuge in the\nargumentative fortress of some other person, than remain a sceptical\nwanderer at his own free will.\n\n\nHUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.\n\n\"These are all the minute faults I could observe in the sermon. Mr.\nLeechman has a very clear and manly expression; but, in my humble\nopinion, he does not consult his ear enough, nor aim at a style which\nmay be smooth and harmonious, which, next to perspicuity, is the chief\nornament of style; _vide_ Cicero, Quinctilian, Longinus, &c. &c. &c. If\nthis sermon were not a popular discourse, I should also think it might\nbe made more concise.\n\n\"As to the argument, I could wish Mr. Leechman would, in the second\nedition, answer this objection both to devotion and prayer, and indeed\nto every thing we commonly call religion, except the practice of\nmorality, and the assent of the understanding to the proposition _that\nGod exists_.\n\n\"It must be acknowledged, that nature has given us a strong passion of\nadmiration for whatever is excellent, and of love and gratitude for\nwhatever is benevolent and beneficial; and that the Deity possesses\nthese attributes in the highest perfection: and yet I assert, he is not\nthe natural object of any passion or affection. He is no object either\nof the senses or imagination, and very little of the understanding,\nwithout which it is impossible to excite any affection. A remote\nancestor, who has left us estates and honours acquired with virtue, is a\ngreat benefactor; and yet 'tis impossible to bear him any affection,\nbecause unknown to us: though in general we know him to be a man or a\nhuman creature, which brings him vastly nearer our comprehension than an\ninvisible, infinite spirit. A man, therefore, may have his heart\nperfectly well disposed towards every proper and natural object of\naffection--friends, benefactors, country, children, &c.--and yet, from\nthis circumstance of the invisibility and incomprehensibility of the\nDeity, may feel no affection towards him. And, indeed, I am afraid that\nall enthusiasts mightily deceive themselves. Hope and fear perhaps\nagitate their breast when they think of the Deity; or they degrade him\ninto a resemblance with themselves, and by that means render him more\ncomprehensible. Or they exult with vanity in esteeming themselves his\npeculiar favourites; or at best they are actuated by a forced and\nstrained affection, which moves by starts and bounds, and with a very\nirregular, disorderly pace. Such an affection cannot be required of any\nman as his duty. Please to observe, that I not only exclude the\nturbulent passions, but the calm affections. Neither of them can operate\nwithout the assistance of the senses and imagination; or at least a more\ncomplete knowledge of the object than we have of the Deity. In most men\nthis is the case; and a natural infirmity can never be a crime. But,\nsecondly, were devotion never so much admitted, prayer must still be\nexcluded. First, the addressing of our virtuous wishes and desires to\nthe Deity, since the address has no influence on him, is only a kind of\nrhetorical figure, in order to render these wishes more ardent and\npassionate. This is Mr. Leechman's doctrine. Now, the use of any figure\nof speech can never be a duty. Secondly, this figure, like most figures\nof rhetoric, has an evident impropriety in it; for we can make use of no\nexpression, or even thought, in prayers and entreaties, which does not\nimply that these prayers have an influence. Thirdly, this figure is very\ndangerous, and leads directly, and even unavoidably, to impiety and\nblasphemy. 'Tis a natural infirmity of men to imagine that their prayers\nhave a direct influence; and this infirmity must be extremely fostered\nand encouraged by the constant use of prayer. Thus, all wise men have\nexcluded the use of images and pictures in prayer, though they certainly\nenliven devotion; because 'tis found by experience, that with the vulgar\nthese visible representations draw too much towards them, and become the\nonly objects of devotion.\"[164:1]\n\n\nThe literary history of this sermon is curious and instructive. When its\nauthor received his appointment of professor of divinity in 1744, a\nparty in the church opposed his being admitted in the usual manner as a\nmember of the presbytery of Glasgow; and one of their methods of attack\nwas to charge him with heretical opinions, promulgated in this sermon,\nof which the first edition had been then published. It is singular\nenough, in comparing their charge with Hume's criticism, to find the two\nattacks brought against the same point, though with different weapons.\n\"The purport of the whole went to charge Mr. Leechman with having laid\ntoo little stress on the merit of the satisfaction and intercession of\nour blessed Saviour, as the sole ground of our acceptance with God in\nprayer, and with teaching Christians to look for pardon and acceptance\non other grounds than this.\"[165:1]\n\nAt this time, we find Hume making an effort to obtain a professorship in\nEdinburgh. Dr. Pringle, subsequently Sir John Pringle, and President of\nthe Royal Society of London,--\n\n           \"Who sat in Newton's chair,\n     And wonder'd how the devil he got there,\"--\n\nheld the chair of \"ethics and pneumatic philosophy\"[165:2] in the\nuniversity of Edinburgh. In 1742, he was appointed physician to the Earl\nof Stair, commander of the British troops in the Low Countries; and\nthrough this circumstance it will be seen, from the following letter,\nthat Hume contemplated a vacancy, and that he was employing the usual\nmeans for securing his own appointment to the chair.\n\n\nHUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.\n\n\"DEAR WILL,--I shall tell you how my affair stands. Dr. Pringle has been\nabsent two years by allowance, and about six weeks ago wrote a letter to\nthe provost, in which he seemed in a manner to have resigned his office;\nand desired the council, if they thought the university any way a\nsufferer by his absence, to send him over a resignation in form, which\nhe would sign, and then they might proceed to the choice of a successor.\nMr. Couts,[165:3] upon receiving this, mentioned me to several of the\ncouncil, and desired me to mention myself as a candidate to all my\nfriends; not with a view of soliciting or making interest, but in order\nto get the public voice on my side, that he might with the more\nassurance employ his interest in my behalf. I accordingly did so; and\nbeing allowed to make use of the provost's name, I found presently that\nI should have the whole council on my side, and that, indeed, I should\nhave no antagonist. But when the provost produced the doctor's letter to\nthe council, he discovered that he had in secret wrote differently to\nsome of his friends, who still insisted that the town should give him\nallowance to be absent another year. The whole council, however, except\ntwo or three, exclaimed against this proposal, and it appeared\nevidently, that if the matter had been put to a vote, there would have\nbeen a majority of ten to one against the doctor. But Mr. Couts, though\nhis authority be quite absolute in the town, yet makes it a rule to\ngovern them with the utmost gentleness and moderation: and this good\nmaxim he sometimes pushes even to an extreme. For the sake of unanimity,\ntherefore, he agrees to an expedient, started by one of the doctor's\nfriends, which he thought would be a compliment to the doctor, and yet\nwould serve the same purpose as the immediate declaration of a vacancy\nin the office. This expedient was to require either the doctor's\nresignation, or a declaration upon honour, that whether it were peace or\nwar, or in any event, he would against November, 1745, return to his\noffice, and resign his commission of physician to the army, or any other\nemployment incompatible with his attendance in this place. This last\ncondition, Mr. Couts thinks it impossible he will comply with, because\nhe has a guinea a-day at present, as physician to the army, along with a\ngood deal of business and half-pay during life. And there seems at\npresent to be small chance for a peace before the term here assigned. I\nfind, however, that some are of a contrary opinion; and particularly\nseveral of the doctor's friends say that he will sign the obligation\nabove-mentioned. We shall receive his answer in a fortnight, upon which\nmy success seems entirely to depend.\n\n\"In the mean time, I have received another offer, which I shall tell you\nas a friend, but desire you may not mention to any body. My Lord\nGarlees[167:1] received a commission from Mr. Murray of Broughton[167:2]\nto look out for a travelling tutor to his son, who is at present at\nGlasgow. My lord inclines to give me the preference, but I could not\npositively accept, till I had seen the end of this affair, which is so\nnear a crisis. Please to inform me of any particulars that you know with\nregard to the young man, his family, &c., that in case the former\nproject fail, I may deliberate upon the other. The accusation of heresy,\ndeism, scepticism, atheism, &c. &c. &c., was started against me; but\nnever took, being bore down by the contrary authority of all the good\ncompany in town. But what surprised me extremely, was to find that this\naccusation was supported by the pretended authority of Mr. Hutcheson and\neven Mr. Leechman, who, 'tis said, agreed that I was a very unfit person\nfor such an office. This appears to me absolutely incredible, especially\nwith regard to the latter gentleman. For, as to Mr. Hutcheson, all my\nfriends think that he has been rendering me bad offices to the utmost\nof his power. And I know that Mr. Couts, to whom I said rashly that I\nthought I could depend upon Mr. Hutcheson's friendship and\nrecommendation,--I say, Mr. Couts now speaks of that professor rather as\nmy enemy than as my friend. What can be the meaning of this conduct in\nthat celebrated and benevolent moralist, I cannot imagine. I shall be\nglad to find, for the honour of philosophy, that I am mistaken: and,\nindeed, I hope so too; and beg of you to inquire a little into the\nmatter, but very cautiously, lest I make him my open and professed\nenemy, which I would willingly avoid. Here then it behoves you to be\nvery discreet.\n\n\"'Tis probable Mr. Murray of Broughton may consult Mr. Hutcheson and the\nother professors of Glasgow, before he fix absolutely on a tutor for his\nson. We shall then see whether he really entertains a bad opinion of my\northodoxy, or is only unwilling that I should be Professor of Ethics in\nEdinburgh; lest that town, being in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, should\nspread its contagion all around it, and even infect the students of the\nlatter university.\n\n\"I have passed a week with Mr. Oswald at Kirkcaldy. He makes his\ncompliments to you. He has shown me the whole economy of the navy, the\nsource of the navy debt, with many other branches of public business. He\nseems to have a great genius for these affairs, and I fancy will go far\nin that way if he perseveres.\"\n\n\"_Edinburgh, August 4, 1744._\"[168:1]\n\n\nIt may easily be imagined that both Mr. Hutcheson and Dr. Leechman would\nbe opposed to the appointment of David Hume as a teacher of moral\nphilosophy in one of the universities; and that they might entertain\nthis opinion along with an honest admiration of his character, and an\nappreciation of the value of his talents when exercised in another\nsphere. It is at all events gratifying to find, that whatever opposition\nHutcheson may have made, he was influenced by no sordid motive, as he\nwas offered the chair, and refused it. On 27th March, 1745, a letter in\nwhich Dr. Pringle resigned the chair, was read to the Town Council. On\n3d April, a nomination to the chair was transmitted to Hutcheson.[169:1]\nHe declined the honour, in a rather verbose letter, in which he speaks\nin the tone of one whose tenure of life cannot be expected to be strong\nenough to fit him for new labours: yet he was then only fifty years old.\nHis death occurred two years later, and he probably felt that his long\nseries of intellectual labours had exhausted too much of the stamina of\nlife to leave him the prospect of a successful career in a new sphere of\nduty. On Hutcheson's letter being read to the council, on 10th April,\n1745, the minutes bear, that \"several other persons having been named as\nproper candidates, it was thereupon moved in council, whether to proceed\nto take the ministers' avisamentum betwixt and next council day, in\norder to facilitate their choice, or to delay the same for a month or\nsix weeks, so that the members of council might with the greater leisure\ndeliberate thereanent; and the rolls having thereupon been called, and\nthe vote marked, it carried delay for said space.\"\n\nIt is probable that the \"ministers' avisamentum,\" whatever may be\nprecisely designed by that phrase, was not such a recommendation as\nwould turn the minds of the members of council in favour of Hume. His\nname is not mentioned in the council records in connexion with the\nproceedings, and the vacancy was filled up on 5th June, 1745, by the\nappointment of William Cleghorn, who had acted for Dr. Pringle in his\nabsence.\n\nThe date of these transactions, brings us into the middle of a very\ncurious episode in Hume's history, which must now be examined.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[139:1] Essay on the Independency of Parliament.\n\n[141:1] This concluding sentence was added in the third Edition, (1748,)\nin which also the passage within brackets was modified.\n\n[145:1] Tytler's Life of Kames, i. 98, et seq.\n\n[147:1] Ab his animi motibus purioribus, et tranquillo stabilique suae\nbeatitudinis appetitione, quae ratione utitur duce, diversi plane sunt\nmotus quidam vehementiores et perturbati, quibus, secundum naturae suae\nlegem, saepe agitatur mens, ubi certa species ipsi obversatur, atque\nbruto quodam impetu, fertur ad quaedam agenda, prosequenda, aut\nfugienda, quamvis nondum, adhibita in consilium ratione, secum statuerat\nhaec ad vitam facere vel beatam vel miseram. Hos motus quisque\nintelliget, qui, in se descendens, in memoriam revocaverit quali animi\nimpetu fuerat abreptus, quae passus, quum libidine, ambitione, ira,\nodio, invidia, amore, laetitia, aut metu, agitabatur; etiam ubi nihil de\nearum rerum, quae mentem commoverant, cursu ad vitam beatam aut miseram\nserio cogitarat. Quid quod saepe in partes contrarias distineantur et\ndistrahantur homines, cum aliud cupido, mens vero, ejusque appetitus\ntranquillus, aliud suadeat.\n\n[147:2] Diximus ex virtutis comprobatione ardentiorem efflorescere\namorem, in eos qui virtute videntur praediti. Quumque in omnes suas\nvires, affectiones, sensus, vota, appetitiones, reflectere possit mens,\neaque contemplari; ille ipse decori et honesti sensus acrior, ardentior\nvirtutis appetitio, et honestiorum omnium amor et caritas, omnino\ncomprobabitur; neque ulla animi affectio magis, quam optimi cujusque\ndilectiones et caritates.\n\n[148:1] See _Caract\u00e9res_ _Ch._ 11. De L'homme.\n\n[148:2] Qui multiplicem sensuum horum perspexerit varietatem, quibus res\nadeo dispares hominibus commendantur appetendae; animique propensiones\npariter multiplices, et mutabiles; et inter se saepe pugnantes\nappetitus, et desideria, quibus suam quisque insequitur utilitatem,\neamque variam, aut non minus variam voluptatem; eam etiam ingenii\nhumanitatem, affectionesque benignas multiplices; humana huic natura\nprima specie videbitur, chaos quoddam, rudisque rerum non bene junctarum\nmoles, nisi altius repetendo, nexum quendam, et ordinem a natura\nconstitutum, et principatum deprehenderit, aut \u1f21\u03b3\u03b7\u03bc\u03bf\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u1f78\u03bd aliquod, ad\nmodum caeteris ponendum idoneum. Philosophiae munus et hoc investigare,\natque monstrare qua demum ratione haec sint ordinanda; miro enim\nartificio\n\n     Hanc Deus, et melior litem natura diremit.\n\n[149:1] Hanc vitam caducam et aerumnosam.\n\n[149:2] The chapter _De Dominii acquirendi Rationibus_.\n\n[149:3] De nuptiis consanguineorum in linea transversa, quas adferunt\nrationes viri docti, vix quiquam affirmant. Quia vero apud plurimas\ngentes legis Judaicae ignaras, ejusmodi nuptiae habebantur impurae et\nnefariae, credibile est et eas in prima mundi aetate lege aliqua\npositiva, cujus diu manserunt vestigia, fuisse a Deo vetitas. Ea autem\nlex hoc praecipue spectasse videtur, ut plures familiae gentesque ea\ndevinciantur caritate et benevolentia, quae ex affinitate et sanguinis\nconjunctione oriri solet. Alia forte commoda hominibus nascituris\nprospexit Deus, ex eo quod gentes variae, conjugiis inter se misceantur.\n\n[150:1] This is in reference to the word _despotica_ being put in\nitalics as a modern barbarism.\n\n[150:2] Civium quisque non sibi solum, verum et liberis, a civitate\ndefensionem stipulatur, et omnia vitae civilis commoda. Liberis gestum\nest negotium utilissimum; unde citra suum consensum, ad ea omnia pro\nipsorum viribus, facienda praestanda adstringuntur, quae ob istiusmodi\ncommoda ab adultis jure flagitari poterant. Nihil autem aequius quam ut\nsinguli, pro virili parte, eam tueantur civitatem, neque ab ea\nintempestive discedant, cujus beneficio diu protecti, innumeris potiti\nfuerant vitae excultae commodis; utque haec a majoribus accepta ad\nposteros transmittant.\n\n[151:1] The practice of sending young men to the continental\nuniversities, seems to have continued for a longer time in the north\nthan in the south. Within these few years it was not uncommon north of\nthe Grampians, to meet with elderly country gentlemen, recalling to each\nother the memorable events of their student life at Leyden. The practice\nappears to be reviving in a favour for the German universities; but\nperhaps it is now more frequently followed by the commercial classes\nthan by the country gentlemen.\n\n[155:1] MS. R.S.E. This letter is printed in the _Literary Gazette_ for\n1822, p. 635.\n\n[155:2] Mr. Oswald of Dunnikier.\n\n[156:1] MS. R.S.E. _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 635.\n\n[157:1] Memorials of James Oswald, p. 82.\n\n[157:2] Ib. p. 19-20.\n\n[158:1] This refers to the taking Hanoverian troops into British pay,\nwarmly debated in the House of Commons on 10th December, 1742.\n\n[159:1] The Earl of Glasgow's house, on the coast of Ayrshire.\n\n[160:1] MS. R.S.E. _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 636.\n\n[161:1] Sermons by William Leechman, D.D. to which is prefixed some\naccount of the author's life, and his character, by James Wodrow, D.D.\n1789, i. 34.\n\n[164:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[165:1] Memoir, _ut supra_, p. 23.\n\n[165:2] Pneumatic Philosophy must here be taken in its old sense, as\nmeaning Psychology.\n\n[165:3] John Couts or Coutts, a native of Dundee, at that time Lord\nProvost of Edinburgh. He was the father of Thomas Coutts, the celebrated\nbanker.\n\n[167:1] The title of courtesy of the eldest son of the Earl of Galloway.\n\n[167:2] There were two Murrays of Broughton. The one had a small piece\nof property in Tweeddale, between Noblehouse and Moffat; and soon after\nthe date of this letter acquired an infamous celebrity by giving\nevidence against the rebels, after having acted as secretary to the\nPretender. The other, who was probably the person Hume had in view, had\na considerable estate in Galloway.\n\n[168:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[169:1] Town Council Records, where he is called George Hutcheson,\ninstead of Francis.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n1745-1747. \u00c6T. 34-36.\n\n     Hume's Residence with the Marquis of Annandale--His\n     Predecessor Colonel Forrester--Correspondence with Sir James\n     Johnstone and Mr. Sharp of Hoddam--Quarrel with Captain\n     Vincent--Estimate of his Conduct, and Inquiry into the\n     Circumstances in which he was placed--Appointed Secretary to\n     General St. Clair--Accompanies the expedition against the\n     Court of France as Judge-Advocate--Gives an Account of the\n     Attack on Port L'Orient--A tragic Incident.\n\n\nHume's history of his residence with the Marquis of Annandale, is given\nin the following brief terms, in his \"own life.\" \"In 1745, I received a\nletter from the Marquis of Annandale, inviting me to come and live with\nhim in England: I found, also, that the friends and family of that young\nnobleman were desirous of putting him under my care and direction, for\nthe state of his mind and health required it. I lived with him a\ntwelvemonth. My appointments during that time made a considerable\naccession to my small fortune.\"\n\nIt might have been favourable perhaps to the dignity of his position in\nthe world of letters, that this episode in his history had never been\nmore fully narrated; for a philosopher conducting a litigation for \u00a375\nof arrears of salary, is apt to experience that diminution of respect in\nthe eyes of the public, which the prince of Cond\u00e9 discovered that a hero\nsuffered in those of his valet. Since, however, many statements have\nbeen given to the world, connected with that part of Hume's life, and\nmany charges and countercharges among the persons connected with it are\npreserved, it is necessary to give such a brief view of the whole\naffair, as may enable the reader to estimate the respective merits of\nthe parties in the dispute. A collection of documents on the subject was\nlately published by a gentleman to whom the literary history of Scotland\nis indebted for many other services;[171:1] and from his book the\nfollowing statement is compiled.\n\nThe person with whom David Hume was thus connected was the last Marquis\nof Annandale, on whose death that title became dormant. On the 5th of\nMarch, 1748, he was found, on an inquest from the Court of Chancery in\nEngland, to be a lunatic, incapable of governing himself and managing\nhis own affairs, and to have been so since 12th December, 1744, a few\nmonths anterior to Hume's engagement with him. The correspondence does\nnot give the reader the notion of one reduced to so abject a mental\nstate, but rather that of a man nervously timid and reserved;\ndistrustful of himself and his ability to transact business with other\npeople, but not quite incapable of managing his affairs, though\nexciteable, and liable to be driven into fits of passion by causes not\nsusceptible of being anticipated. A party to the correspondence, talking\nof him as in an improved condition, says: \"My Lord walked out with me\nlately two or three miles, received and returned the compliments of the\nhat of those we met, and without any shyness or reserve: and bears to\nstand by, and hear me talk with any farmer or countryman. This is a vast\nchange for the better, and the greatest appearance that it will\ncontinue.\"[172:1] He appears to have been haunted by a spirit of\nliterary ambition. Hume says in a letter to Lord Elibank, \"I have copied\nout half a dozen of epigrams, which I hope will give you entertainment.\nThe thought in them is indeed little inferior to that in the celebrated\nEpigrams of Rousseau; though the versification be not so correct. What a\npity! I say this on account both of the author and myself; for I am\nafraid I must leave him.\" And on another occasion he alludes at length\nto a far more extensive literary achievement, a novel, which the\nexcited Marquis had written, and which those about him had found it\nnecessary to print, circulating a few copies, and advertising it in one\nnewspaper to allay any suspicions in the author's mind that a thousand\ncopies had not been printed. Hume says:\n\n\"You would certainly be a little surprised and vexed on receiving a\nprinted copy of the novel, which was in hands when you left London. If I\ndid not explain the mystery to you, I believe I told you, that I hoped\nthat affair was entirely over, by my employing Lord Marchmont and Lord\nBolingbroke's authority against publishing that novel; though you will\nreadily suppose that neither of these two noble Lords ever perused it.\nThis machine operated for six weeks; but the vanity of the author\nreturned with redoubled force, fortified by suspicions, and increased by\nthe delay. 'Pardie,' dit il, 'je crois que ces messieurs veulent \u00eatre\nles seules Seigneurs d'Angleterre qui eussent de l'esprit. Mais je leur\nmontrerai ce que le petit A---- peut faire aussi.' In short, we were\nobliged to print off thirty copies, to make him believe that we had\nprinted a thousand, and that they were to be dispersed all over the\nkingdom.\n\n\"My Lady Marchioness will also receive a copy, and I am afraid it may\ngive her a good deal of uneasiness, by reason of the story alluded to in\nthe novel, and which she may imagine my Lord is resolved to bring to\nexecution. Be so good, therefore, as to inform her, that I hope this\naffair is all over. I discovered, about a fortnight ago, that one of the\npapers sent to that damsel had been sent back by her under cover to his\nrival, Mr. M'----, and that she had plainly, by that step, sacrificed\nhim to her other lover. This was real matter of fact, and I had the\ngood fortune to convince him of it; so that his pride seems to have got\nthe better of his passion, and he never talks of her at present.\"\n\nThe \"novel\" appears to have referred to some little event in its\nauthor's private history. If there be a copy of it now any where\nexisting, it is to be feared that it wastes its fragrance on the desert\nair, as the existence of so choice a flower of literature, were it in\nthe possession of any collector, could not fail to have been rumoured\nthrough the bibliographical world.\n\nThe Marquis had previously been attended by a succession of hired\ncompanions, of whom one was a man of considerable distinction, Colonel\nJames Forrester,[174:1] a person who, in the Scottish society of the\nage, seems to have united some of the qualities of a Chesterfield to a\nlike proportion of those of a Beau Fielding. He was the author of \"The\nPolite Philosopher;\" a lively little essay, sometimes published along\nwith Chesterfield's \"Advice,\" in which the author is so much at ease\nwith his reader, that he discourses in prose or poetry as his own humour\ndictates. Johnson said, with reference to the man and the book, that \"he\nwas himself the great polite he drew;\" and if it did not happen that his\ncoxcombry excited the poor invalid's irritable nerves to distraction, he\nwas probably an infinitely more suitable man for the office of companion\nto the Marquis of Annandale, than David Hume.\n\nThe overtures to Hume were made by the Marquis himself; who was,\naccording to an expression used by Sir James Johnstone, when writing to\nHume, \"charmed with something contained in his Essays.\" The place of\nresidence of the Marquis was Weldhall, near St. Alban's, in\nHertfordshire. Hume had to go to London to make the anticipatory\narrangements, and he commenced his companionship on 1st April, 1745. The\ninsurrection, headed by Prince Charles Edward in Scotland, commenced\nfour months afterwards; and there is perhaps nothing more curious in\nthe whole dispute than the indifference with which this matter, fraught\nwith so much importance to his countrymen, is spoken of by Hume; while\nthere could not probably be a better answer to those who afterwards\ninsinuated that he was a Jacobite, than an account of the manner in\nwhich his thoughts were occupied during that struggle. He occasionally\ncomplains that he is prevented from personally discussing, with the\nindividuals interested, the matters he is writing about, on account of\n\"the present unhappy troubles;\" and the following portion of a letter to\nSir James Johnstone of Westerhall, the brother of the Marquis's\nstepfather, written immediately after he had left his attendance on the\nMarquis, is the only occasion in which he appears to show the least\nsympathy in the conflict or its results.\n\n\n\"_Portsmouth, June 6, 1746._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I have always sympathized very cordially with you, whenever\nI met with any of the names, wherein you was interested, in any of the\npublic papers; but I hope that one of the persons is now safe by his\nescape, and the other protected by her sex and innocence.[176:1] We live\nnot now in a time, when public crimes are supposed to cancel all private\nties, or when the duties of relation, even though executed beyond the\nusual bounds, will render the persons criminal. I am willing,\ntherefore, to flatter myself, that your anxiety must now be in a great\nmeasure over, and that a more happy conclusion of so calamitous an\naffair could not be expected, either for private individuals or for the\npublic. Some little time ago, we had here a conversation with regard to\nL----, and other persons in her condition, when General St. Clair said,\nthat he heard, from some of the ministers, that the intentions of the\nmenaces, or even of the intended prosecutions (if they went so far,)\nwere not to proceed to execution; but only to teach our countrywomen\n(many of whom had gone beyond all bounds) that their sex was no absolute\nprotection to them, and that they were equally exposed to the law with\nthe other sex. However, I doubt not but your friend has no occasion for\ntheir clemency, whatever may be the case with the other ladies in the\nsame situation, who had particularly valued themselves upon their\nactivity and courage.\"\n\n\nIt is now necessary to enter on a subject, which one feels a natural\ninclination to postpone, as long as the order of events will afford any\nexcuse for looking at other things: the treatment Hume experienced in\nthis his self-adopted slavery. He had to deal with a capricious\nunreasonable employer; to that he would, in the circumstances,\nphilosophically reconcile himself. He states in one of his letters, that\nhe lived with him \"in a more equal way of complaisance and good humour\nthan could well have been expected. Some little disgusts and humours\ncould not be prevented, and never were proposed to be of any\nconsequence.\" But he had another and a far more unpleasant person to\ndeal with, in a certain Philip Vincent, a captain in the navy,[178:1] a\nrelation of the Dowager-marchioness of Annandale. For some months\nmatters appear to have gone smoothly with all concerned. The following\nletter to one of his esteemed friends, shows that Hume was consoling\nhimself for the probable dissipation of his hopes of a professorship, by\nreflecting on his good fortune in being connected with so amiable and\nexcellent a man as Captain Vincent:--\n\n[Illustration: handwritten letter, text of which follows]\n\n\nHUME _to_ MATTHEW SHARP _of Hoddam_.[178:2]\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--I am informed that such a popular clamour has been raised\nagainst me in Edinburgh, on account of scepticism, heterodoxy, and other\nhard names, which confound the ignorant, that my friends find some\ndifficulty, in working out the point of my professorship, which once\nappeared so easy. Did I need a testimonial for my orthodoxy, I should\ncertainly appeal to you; for you know that I always imitated Job's\nfriends, and defended the cause of Providence when [you] attacked it, on\naccount of the headachs you felt after a deba[uch.] But, as a more\nparticular explication of that particular seems superfluous, I shall\nonly apply to you for a renewal of your good offices with your\nnephew, Lord Tinwal,[179:1] whose interest with Yetts and Allan may be\nof service to me. There is no time to lose; so that I must beg you to be\nspeedy in writing to him, or speaking to him on that head. A word to the\nwise. Even that is not necessary to a friend, such as I have always\nesteemed and found you to be.\n\n\"I live here very comfortably with the Marquis of Annandale, who, I\nsuppose you have heard, sent me a letter of invitation, along with a\nbill of one hundred pounds, about two months ago. Every thing is much\nbetter than I expected, from the accounts I heard after I came to\nLondon; for the secrecy with which I stole away from Edinburgh, and\nwhich I thought necessary for preserving my interest there, kept me\nentirely ignorant of his situation.\n\n\"My lord never was in so good a way [before.] He has a regular family,\nhonest servants, and every thing is managed genteelly and with economy.\nHe has intrusted all his English affairs to a mighty honest friendly\nman, Captain Vincent, who is cousin-german to the Marchioness. And as my\nlord has now taken so strong a turn to solitude and repose, as he\nformerly had to company and agitation, 'tis to be hoped that his good\nparts and excellent dispositions may at last, being accompanied with\nmore health and tranquillity, render him a comfort to his friends, if\nnot an ornament to his country. As you live in the neighbourhood of the\nMarchioness, it may give her a pleasure to hear these particulars. I\nam,[180:1] &c.\n\n\"_Weldehall, near St. Albans_,\n\n\"_April 25, 1745._\"\n\n\nOn the other hand, we find Captain Vincent, when he speaks of Hume,\nsaying, \"I think it very happy that he is with my lord, and still more\nso if he is constantly to remain with him, which I do not foresee but\nthat he may; and I must do him the justice to say, that after having had\ntime enough to weigh the temper, situation, and circumstances of the\nperson he has to deal with, he very candidly owned that it was what he\ncould cheerfully abide with.\" And again in August, \"Mr. Hume is almost\nwholly taken up with our friend personally, so that he can scarce have\nthe resource of amusement, or even of business, which is somewhat hard\nupon a man of erudition and letters, whom indeed I think very deserving\nand good natured; and whilst he can be his companion, there could not be\na better made choice of.\" The captain, in other letters, speaks of Hume\nas \"a very worthy and knowing man,\" and as \"My friend Mr. Hume;\" and\nseems at one time to have wished that an annuity of \u00a3100 a-year should\nbe settled upon him, without reference to his continuance in his office,\nand in addition to the salary he might receive while he did so. But the\ndawn was soon afterwards overcast.\n\nHume, in the first place, disliked some of Captain Vincent's proposed\narrangements, as to the disposal of the person of the Marquis, and\nseems to have soon suspected him of wishing to carry through designs\nwhich would materially affect the interest of some of the Marquis's\nrelations. It is probable that a feeling of friendliness, or of duty,\nmay have prompted him to interfere. It may be so, and he may in reality\nhave done good; but the impression produced by the correspondence is,\nregret that Hume did not at once retire in lofty scorn from the scene of\nthese paltry cabals.\n\nCaptain Vincent held a commission from the Marquis to \"hire and dismiss\nservants,\" and perform other like functions. It was in virtue of this\nauthority that he dealt with Hume; and he seems at first to have\nthought, that in the person of the philosopher he had met with a sort of\nsuperior and valuable member of the fraternity of upper-servants. Though\nHume had then written the works on which a large portion of his European\nreputation was afterwards built, this man seems to have regarded his\nliterary abilities as merely an enhancement of the qualities which\nsuited him for his servile office. Looking upon himself as a member of\nthe family, he appears to have had much the same disposition to admit\nthat Hume's literary distinction put them on a par with each other, as\nhe might have had to admit that the display of an unexpected degree of\nmusical talent in the servants' hall would qualify one of its\nfrequenters to be hail-fellow well met with him in the dining-room.\nWhether Hume was right or wrong in the suspicions he entertained of\nVincent, the conduct of Vincent to Hume was brutal, and that on his own\nshowing.\n\nOne of Hume's views, as to the proper treatment of the Marquis, was,\nthat the isolation of Weldhall was unsuitable to his condition: that he\nshould be in a a more cheerful residence, and one in other respects\nmore suitable; and the dispute appears to have been for some time\nsuspended on this peg. On the 31st October, Hume writes:--\n\n\"What is the mighty matter in dispute? Only about hiring a few carts to\nremove the family to another house, in order to quit this; which, for\nvery good reasons, is infinitely disagreeable to your friend, very\ndangerous, will be uninhabitable for cold during the winter season, and\ncosts \u00a3300 to \u00a3400 a-year, at least, to the family, more than is\nrequisite.\" And afterwards he says of Vincent:--\"He said, when he was\nhere, that we shall live in this house till the lease was out, in spite\nof all opposition.\"\n\nIn the letter from which the preceding passage is taken, he says to Sir\nJames Johnstone,--\n\n\n\"I must begin by complaining of you for having yoked me here with a man\nof the Captain's character, without giving me the least hint concerning\nit, if it was known to you, as, indeed, it is no secret to the world.\nYou seemed satisfied with his conduct, and even praised him to me; which\nI am fully persuaded was the effect of your caution, not your\nconviction. However, I, who was altogether a stranger, entered into the\nfamily with so gross a prepossession. I found a man who took an infinite\ndeal of pains for another, with the utmost professions both of\ndisinterestedness and friendship to him and me; and I readily concluded\nthat such a one must be either one of the best, or one of the worst of\nmen. I can easily excuse myself for having judged at first on the\nfavourable side; and must confess that, when light first began to break\nin upon me, I resisted it as I would a temptation of the devil. I\nthought it, however, proper to keep my eyes open for farther\nobservation; till the strangest and most palpable facts, which I shall\ninform you of at meeting, put the matter out of all doubt to me.\n\n\"There is nothing he would be fonder of than to sow dissension betwixt\nmy Lady and you, whom he hates and fears. He flatters, and caresses, and\npraises, and hates me also; and would be glad to chase me away, as doing\nme the honour, and, I hope, the justice of thinking me a person very\nunfit for his purposes. As he wants all manner of pretext from my\nconduct and behaviour, he has broken his word.\"\n\n\nThat these statements are not those of a secret foe emitting calumnies\nin the dark, is made clear by the concluding terms of the letter, in\nwhich the writer, instead of asking his correspondent to keep its\ncontents secret--a very common clause when people, thrown much in each\nother's way, write about each other's conduct to third parties--says, \"I\nwish you would bring this letter south with you, that, if you will allow\nit, I may show it to him,\"--that is, to Vincent.\n\nThe excitement communicated to Hume's nerves on this occasion, is shown\nby the following short letter to Sir James, so much at variance with the\nusual character of his writings:--\n\n\n\"God forgive you, dear Sir, God forgive you, for neither coming to us,\nnor writing to us. The unaccountable, and, I may say, the inhuman\ntreatment we meet with here, throws your friend into rage and fury, and\nme into the greatest melancholy. My only comfort is when I think of your\narrival; but still I know not when I can propose to myself that\nsatisfaction. I flatter myself you have received two short letters I\nwrote within this month; though the uncertainty of the post gives me\napprehension. I must again entreat you to favour me with a short line,\nto let me know the time you can propose to be with us; for, if it be\nnear, I shall wait with patience and with pleasure; if distant, I shall\nwrite you at length, that you and my Lady Marchioness may judge of our\ncircumstances and situation.--I am, Dear Sir, yours, with great\nsincerity, D. H.\"\n\n\nUnfortunately, the precise objects which the parties respectively\ndesired to accomplish cannot be distinctly ascertained, as the letters\ngenerally refer to explanations which it will be necessary for the\nparties to make when they meet, because the troubled character of the\ntimes made private letters liable to be opened and inspected. Hume at\nthe same time, being in the midst of a considerable retinue of servants\nunder the control and management of his enemy, was in dread that spies\nwere set on his motions. Thus he says to Sir James Johnstone,--\n\n\"I did write you the very first occasion after I came out thither. But I\nfind my letters have great difficulty to reach you; for which reason I\nshall put this into the post-house myself, to prevent such practices as\nI suspect are used in this family. I have some reason also to think that\nspies are placed upon my most indifferent actions. I told you that I had\nhad more conversation with one of the servants than was natural, and for\nwhat reason. Perhaps this fellow had the same privilege granted him as\nother spies, to rail against his employer, in order to draw in an\nunguarded man to be still more unguarded. But such practices, if real,\n(for I am not altogether certain,) can only turn to the confusion of\nthose who use them. Where there is no arbitrary power, innocence must\nbe safe; and if there be arbitrary power in this family, 'tis long since\nI knew I could not remain in it. What a scene is this for a man\nnourished in philosophy and polite letters to enter into, all of a\nsudden, and unprepared! But I can laugh, whatever happens; and the\nnewness of such practices rather diverts me. At first they caused\nindignation and hatred; and even (though I am ashamed to confess it)\nmelancholy and sorrow.\"\n\nWhat a scene indeed!\n\nThe chief incidental light that can be thrown on the nature of the\nsuspicions which Hume entertained of Vincent, is derived from the\nposition of the person to whom the greater part of these letters were\naddressed--Sir James Johnstone, who has already been alluded to as a\nconnexion of the Annandale family. His brother, Colonel John Johnstone,\nhad married the Marchioness-dowager, the mother of the Marquis, and by\nher had three children. She was an heiress; and though the Scottish\nestates, following an entail, were destined to pass to another family,\nher own property would be inherited by the children of her second\nmarriage, on the death of the Marquis. The accumulated rents of his\nestates, being movable property, would also be the subject of\nsuccession, different from that of the entail; and therefore the\nmanagement of this property, during his imbecility, was a matter of much\nmoment to some of his connexions. The public had ample opportunity of\nknowing the extent of these accumulated funds. They rose to the sum of\n\u00a3415,000, and were the subject of long litigation both in England and\nScotland. The \"Annandale cases\" had a material effect in settling in\nBritain the important principle which had been previously adopted over\nthe greater part of Europe, that the movable or personal estate of a\ndeceased person must be distributed according to the law of the country\nwhere he had his domicile or permanent residence at the time of his\ndeath.\n\nIt is pretty evident that Vincent had certain family projects in view in\nconnexion with the management of the estate, and that Hume wished to\ndefeat them. Before the outbreak of the quarrel, the latter had written\nto Sir James:\n\n\"I shall endeavour to give you my opinion, which I am certain would be\nyours, were you to pass a day amongst us. I am sorry, therefore, to\ninform you, that nothing now remains but to take care of your friend's\nperson, in the most decent and convenient manner; and, with regard to\nhis fortune, to be attentive that the great superplus, which will remain\nafter providing for these purposes, should be employed by my Lady and\nyour nephews, as the true proprietors, for their honour and advantage.\"\n\nHaving written a civil letter to Vincent, stating that he desired the\nintervention of Sir James Johnstone, and that he believed, in the mean\ntime, that the Marquis was satisfied with the engagement, and did not\nwish him to be dismissed, he thus hints to Sir James his suspicions of\nVincent's views.\n\n\"I must own it was with excessive reluctance I wrote so softening and\nobliging a letter to this man; but as I knew that such a method of\nproceeding was conformable to your intentions, I thought it my duty to\ncomply. However, I easily saw it would all be vain, and would only\nfortify him in his arrogance. Do you think that _the absolute possession\nof so ample a fortune_, to which this is the first requisite step, is a\nprize to be resigned for a few fair words or flattering professions? He\ndeals too much in that bait himself ever to be caught with it by others.\n\n\"I think this is the last opportunity that will ever offer of retrieving\nthe family and yourself (as far as you are concerned with the family,)\nfrom falling into absolute slavery to so odious a master. If, in the\nbeginning, and while he is watched by jealous eyes, he can attempt such\nthings, what will he not do when he has fixed his authority, and has no\nlonger any inspector over him?\n\n\"'Tis lucky, therefore, that this, as it seems the last, is so good an\nopportunity. Nothing was ever so barefaced as his conduct. To quarrel\nwith me, merely because I civilly supported a most reasonable project;\nto threaten me with his vengeance, if I opened my lips to you concerning\nyour friend's affairs; to execute that threat, without a pretext, or\nwithout consulting you; these steps give us such advantages over him as\nmust not be neglected.\n\n\"I hope you will not take it amiss, if I say, that your conduct, with\nregard to your friend, and to those who have at different times been\nabout him, has all along been too gentle and cautious. I had\nconsiderably shaken the authority of this man (though I had no authority\nmyself,) merely by my firmness and resolution. He now assumes more, when\nhe observes your precautions.\n\n\"But, as I do not believe that, though your firmness may daunt him, it\nwill ever engage him to loose hold of so fine a prize, it will be\nrequisite to think of more effectual remedies. Happily there is time\nenough both to contrive and to execute. For, though he makes me the\noffer of present payment, (which I hope you observed,) in order to\nengage me to leave you presently, he shall not get rid of me so easily.\"\n\nHume appears, with a marvellous degree of self-restraint--marvellous in\na man of independent spirit--to have felt that it was his duty not to be\ndriven from his post by the insults of Vincent. He says to Sir James\nJohnstone, when apparently wearied out, \"I fancy he must prevail at\nlast; and I shall take care not to be a bone of contention betwixt you,\nunless you think I am the most advantageous piece of ground on which you\ncan resist him.\" His opinion, that the interests of the other relations\nwere concerned in his resisting Vincent's designs, is confirmed by the\nfollowing letter, also addressed to Sir James Johnstone:--\n\n\"He [Vincent] desired you should intermeddle as little as possible in\nthese affairs; adding, that he intended, by keeping my Lord's person and\nhis English affairs in his own hands, to free my Lady from all slavery\nto you.\n\n\"Ever since, no entreaties, no threatenings have been spared to make me\nkeep silence to you; to which my constant answer was, that I thought not\nthat consistent with my duty. I told him freely, that I would lay all\nthe foregoing reasons before you, when you came to London, and hoped you\nwould prevail with him to alter his opinion. If not, we should all\nwrite, if you thought proper, to my Lady Marchioness, in order to have\nher determination. The endeavouring, then, to make me keep silence to\nyou, was also to keep my Lady in the dark about such material points,\nsince I could not have access to let her know the situation of our\naffairs, by any other means.\n\n\"He offered to let me leave your friend in the beginning of winter, if I\npleased, provided I would make no opposition to his plan,--that is,\nwould not inform you; for I was not capable of making any other\nopposition. He added, he would allow me my salary for the whole year,\nand that he would himself supply my place, leave his house in London,\nand live with your friend. Can all this pains be taken, merely for the\ndifference betwixt one house and another?\n\n\"An evening or two before his departure from Weldehall, he offered me\nthe continuance of the same friendship, which had always subsisted\nbetwixt us, if I would promise not to open my lips to you about this\nmatter.\n\n\"The morning of his departure, he burst out all of a sudden, when the\nsubject was not talked of, into threatenings, and told me, that, if I\never entered upon this subject with you, I should repent it. He went out\nof the house presently, and these were almost his last words.\"\n\nThe circumstance of these \"threatenings\" is amply confirmed by a letter\nof Vincent himself, addressed to the Marchioness; an admirable specimen\nof the outpouring of a vulgar and insolent mind:--\n\n\n\"I will venture to say I have the knack of parrying and managing him,\nbut that Mr. Hume, who is so extraordinarily well paid, only for his\ncompany, and lodged and lives, that, if it was at his own expense, he\ncould not do it for \u00a3200 a-year, should be gloomy and inconsolable for\nwant of society, and show, for this good while past, little or no sign\nof content or gratitude to me for all I have done, and the best\nintentions to serve him, and principally promoted his being in this\nstation, and repeatedly offered to come out frequently during the winter\nand stay two or three days at a time, whilst he should be in town. I\nshall do so, but nowise in consideration to him, but out of tenderness\nand regard to our friend. Mr. Hume is a scholar, and I believe an honest\nman; but one of his best friends at Edinburgh at first wrote me, he had\nconversed more with books than the world, or any of the elegant part of\nit, chiefly owing to the narrowness of his fortune. He does not in this\ncase seem to know his own interest, though I have long perceived it is\nwhat he mostly has a peculiar eye to. Hereafter I shall consider him no\nmore than if I had never known him. Our friend in reality does not\ndesire he should stay with him. I don't see his policy in offering to\noppose my pleasure, and think it very wrong in him to mention his\nappealing to Sir James Johnstone. I dare say your ladyship thinks as I\ndo, that it is unbecoming for me to be in a subservient state, in such a\ncase, to any body. I am very zealously disposed to be accountable to\nyou; both regard, civility, justice, long friendship and acquaintance,\nas well as near relationship, are all the motives in the world for it;\nand I hoped my being concerned would produce all possible good effects\nin your having constant, true, and satisfactory accounts, as well as\nthat, in due time, those advantages in your own affairs might be\naccruing, which you are so justly entitled to, and which I have before\ndeclared to be one of the main ends to be accomplished, and which I\nbelieve you think I could effect better than another. It is not one of\nthe most pleasing circumstances that, in the situation of our friend, it\nis an inlet to strangers, taken in by accident, to be too much\nacquainted with private family affairs. I certainly desire that Sir\nJames and I should be in good correspondence, and I believe he is\nsatisfied of that; but this man, taking it into his head to thwart my\nmethods, and all to gratify his own desire of being near town in the\nwinter forsooth, after the offer I have made of giving him relief\nsometimes, and as nothing will satisfy some dispositions, I shall, at\nthe end of the year, close all accounts, in which there will be done\nwhat was never done before, a complete state of the receipt and the\nexpense, and then very willingly desire to be excused from having any\nfarther concern. Most certainly I would do every thing in my power to\nserve and oblige you; but if you desire the continuance of my care,\nplease to write to Sir James to signify occasionally to Mr. Hume that\nthe management is left to me, and not to a stranger, who, if he is not\nsatisfied, is at his liberty to remove from such attendance.\"\n\n\nThis illustration of character would be incomplete without a passage in\na subsequent letter, in which, after Hume had ceased to attend on the\nMarquis, Vincent characterizes the sort of person who would be a\ndesirable successor.\n\n\"If any proper person is about him again whilst I am concerned, terms\nfor their behaviour must be specified, and as they wax fat and are\nencouraged, they must be discreet enough and reasonable in their nature,\nso as not to kick. Such deportment would engage any good offices of\nmine, in favour of a worthy man, fit for the purpose, which, I confess,\nis very hard to find, and possibly my Lord will not care to have any\nbody put upon him by way of terms of continuance.\"\n\nThat the iron of this bondage entered into his soul, is apparent in many\npassages of Hume's letters. He regretted that he had left independence\nin a humble home, for dependence in a lordly mansion: he regretted that\nhe had been led to meddle with intrigues, in which a vulgar selfish man,\nwho knew the world, was far more than a match for a profound\nphilosopher. How wise it had been for him had he never deserted the\nhumble prospects of an independent life, the following complaints,\naddressed to Lord Elibank, testify:--\n\n\n\"Meanwhile, I own to you, that my heart rebels against this unworthy\ntreatment; and nothing but the prospect of depending entirely on you,\nand being independent of him, could make me submit to it. I have fifty\nresolutions about it. My loss, in ever hearkening to his treacherous\nprofessions, has been very great; but, as it is now irreparable, I must\nmake the best of a bad bargain. I am proud to say that, as I am no\nplotter myself, I never suspect others to be such, till it be too late;\nand, having always lived independent, and in such a manner as that it\nnever was any one's interest to profess false friendship to me, I am not\nsufficiently on my guard in this particular. . . . . My way of living is\nmore melancholy than ever was submitted to by any human creature, who\never had any hopes or pretensions to any thing better; and if to\nconfinement, solitude, and bad company, be also added these marks of\ndisregard, . . . . I shall say nothing, but only that books, study,\nleisure, frugality, and independence, are a great deal better.\"\n\n\nThe filling up of the cup of his slights and injuries, and the\ntermination of his servitude, is thus described by Hume; and one reads\nit with a feeling of relief, as an event long protracted, and for the\noccurrence of which the reader of the narrative is impatient. He says,\nwriting to Sir James Johnstone, on 17th April, 1746,--\n\n\"You'll be surprised, perhaps, that I date my letters no longer from\nWeldehall; this happened from an accident, if our inconstancies and\nuncertainties can be called such.\n\n\"You may remember in what humour you saw your friend a day or two before\nyou left us. He became gay and good-humoured afterwards, but more\nmoderately than usual. After that, he returned to his former\ndisposition. These revolutions, we have observed, are like the hot and\ncold fits of an ague: and, like them too, in proportion as the one is\ngentle, the other is violent. But the misfortune is, that this prejudice\ncontinued even after he seemed, in other respects, entirely recovered.\nSo that, having tried all ways to bring him to good humour, by talking\nwith him, absenting myself for some days, &c., I have at last been\nobliged yesterday to leave him. He is determined, he says, to live\naltogether alone; and I fancy, indeed, it must come to that. As far as I\ncan judge, this caprice came from nobody, and no cause, except physical\nones. The wonder only is, that it was so long a-coming.\"\n\nThere is a stroke of generosity in his thus attributing the impulse to\nphysical causes, and not only abstaining from an accusation of his\nenemy, but expressly exempting him from all blame. The readers of the\ncorrespondence have not probably all seconded the charitable exemption;\nand the exulting tones in which Vincent speaks of the dismissal, foster\nthe suspicion that he had paved the way for it. He says, on the 19th\nApril,--\n\n\n\"This day was a fortnight, my Lord told Mr. Hume to be gone, and that in\nterms which I shall not repeat; the Monday following, the same\ndirections were renewed in a very peremptory manner, attended with such\nexpressions of resentment, that I advised Hume to go away the next day,\nwhich he did, the 8th; and on the 15th I went out thither, and had told\nmy Lord before, that, if he could be reconciled to have him return, I\nwas very willing to contribute towards it, which proposal was not in\nthe least agreed to. . . . . Hume has not for many months stomached\ndepending in any respect upon my decision, who was originally the cause\nof his being received at all, and had very great difficulty, long since\nand at different times, to get my Lord to bear him. He has mistaken the\npoint; for there is nothing irritates his Lordship so much, as the\nthought of any one showing some tokens of authority, and looking on what\nhe says as caprice, and of no consequence; and I really believe it is\nsome such notion as this, which has produced so thorough an aversion.\"\n\n\nThere are two different views that may be taken of Hume's motives for\nnot having at once resigned his appointment, at the very commencement of\nthe train of indignities to which he was subjected. Whoever anticipates\nthat a man who had tutored his mind by the rules of philosophy, and who\nlived an upright and independent life, may be actuated by some better\nviews than those of mere pecuniary aggrandizement, will give him credit\nfor having believed it to be his duty to watch over certain interests of\nthe Annandale family at the sacrifice of his own feelings. Those who,\nstrongly disapproving of his opinions as a philosopher, believe them to\nbe therefore the dictate of a corrupted mind, will probably search for\nbase and selfish motives; and will have little difficulty in identifying\nthem with a pure love of gain, sufficiently strong to absorb all\ngentlemanly feeling and all spirit of independence. The favourable and\ncharitable view admits of no direct demonstration on which an opponent\ncould not be able to throw doubt; and, the circumstances being stated,\neach reader is left to form his own opinion.\n\nThere is one thing that Hume never attempts to conceal--his feeling that\nthe situation was in a pecuniary point of view advantageous to him, and\nhis consequent desire to preserve it for his own sake, so long as he\ncould do so with honour. That it should be so is one of those\ninconsistencies often exhibited in fine geniuses, which ordinary men of\nthe world find it difficult to appreciate. It frequently proceeds from\nthis circumstance, that, not being acquainted with the ordinary beaten\ntracks towards wealth and independence, which other men so easily find;\nyet desiring the latter, although perhaps they care not for the former\nendowment, they lay hold with avidity on any guide that is likely to\nlead them, by however devious and unpleasant a path, to the desired\nobject. Men whose minds are much occupied with abstract subjects, if\nthey be poor and desire to be free of unpleasant obligations, are thus\napt to grasp at trifling rights with a pertinacity which has the air of\nselfishness. They feel a timidness of their own ability to make way in a\nbustling active world; and, conscious that it would be vain to compete\nwith hard-headed acute men of business in the enlargement of their\nfortune, treat with an undue importance any comparatively trifling\nclaims and advantages; while the sagacious world, which sees before it\nso many more advantageous paths to the objects of men's secondary\nambition, ridicules their much ado about nothing. It was Hume's first\nand chief desire to be independent. That if he had enjoyed a choice of\nmeans, to be the hired companion of the Marquis of Annandale would have\nbeen among the last on which he would have fixed, will easily be\nbelieved. But this occupation was the only method of gaining a\nlivelihood that offered itself at the time; it was an honest one, and\nthe disagreeable circumstances attending the means were overlooked in\nthe desirableness of the end.\n\nIt is necessary, also, along with the account of Hume's efforts to gain\na humble livelihood, to keep in mind the state of society in Scotland at\nthat time. The union with England had introduced new habits of living,\nwhich made the means of the smaller aristocracy insufficient for the\nsupport of their younger children. On the other hand, England was\njealous of Scottish rivalry in foreign trade: neither agriculture nor\nmanufactures had made any considerable progress in Scotland; while\nIndian enterprise was in its infancy, and Scottish adventurers in the\nEast had not yet found a Pactolus in the Ganges. At that period the\ngentleman-merchant, manufacturer, or money dealer; the civil engineer,\narchitect, editor, or artist, were nearly unknown in Scotland. The only\nform in which a man poor and well born could retain the rank of a\ngentleman, if he did not follow one of the learned professions, was by\nobtaining a commission in the army, or a government civil\nappointment.[196:1]\n\nHere ended the channels to subsistence along with gentility, and he who\nhad none of these paths open to him, and had resolved to make an\nindependent livelihood by his own talents or labour, had at once, as the\nGerman nobles frequently do in the present day, to abandon his rank, and\nbecome a shopkeeper or small farmer, probably with the intention of\nreturning to the bosom of his former social circle when he had realized\nan independence, but more commonly ending his days with the\nconsciousness that he was, in the words of Henry Hunt, \"the first of a\nrace of gentlemen who had become a tradesman.\" Any lawyer who pays\nattention to the statistics of the Scottish decisions in mercantile\ncases, during the earlier part of the eighteenth century, will have\nnoticed how frequently it occurs that the younger sons of some good\nfamily are mentioned as fulfilling the humblest duties of village\ntradesmen.[197:1] The practice is now comparatively unknown. The well\neducated gentleman's son, if he be brought up to commerce, connects\nhimself with those more liberal departments of it, in which he may reap\nthe advantage of his education and training. To the practice which\ndistinguished the period of depression above alluded to, aided perhaps\nby the spirit of clanship, we may owe the existence of so many\naristocratic names among the humbler tradesmen in Scotland. In England\nthe nomenclature of a city directory will as surely indicate the court\nand the tradesmen end of the town, as the Norman name used to indicate\nnobility and the Saxon vassalage. We do not find Edward Plantagenet\nkeeping an oyster shop, or Henry Seymour cobbling shoes; but it would\nnot be difficult to exemplify these humble occupations, in the regal\nnames of a Robert Bruce or a James Stuart. In his essay on \"The Parties\nof Great Britain,\" published in 1741, Hume alludes to the absence of a\nmiddle class in Scotland, where he says there are only \"two ranks of\nmen,\" \"gentlemen who have some fortune and education, and the meanest\nstarving poor: without any considerable number of the middling rank of\nmen, which abounds more in England, both in cities and in the country,\nthan in any other quarter of the world.\"[198:1]\n\nThe history of the miserable quarrels and intrigues connected with\nHume's residence in the Annandale family, is a sad picture, not only of\nthe position of the individual, but of his class,--the poor scholars,\nthe servile drudges for bread. The modern literary labourer--or hack, as\nhe is called by those who deem the word labourer too respectable to be\nemployed on such an occasion--may look from the narrow bounds of his own\nindependent home, with a feeling of sincere though not boastful\nsuperiority on David Hume, living in the splendid bondage of a peer's\nmansion. But in drawing the comparison on which the reflection rests,\nlet him keep in view the state of literature and of society at that\nperiod, and ask where lay the hopes of the literary labourer? If he\nremained in the less conspicuous walks of learned industry, and became a\ndivine or a teacher, there was before him the career of Parson Adams,\ntaking his pot and pipe with the upper servants; or that of the\nthreadbare tutor, subjected to the caprice and insolence of young men,\nwho, if they do not happen to be endowed with a high tone of sentiment,\nmust imbibe from all around them this feeling, that they are as far\nbeyond the parallel of rank of their instructor, as the Brahmin is\nbeyond that of the Pariah; or, thirdly, he might be the hired victim of\na semi-maniac, whose few rays of remaining reason are but sufficient to\nindicate his own immeasurable superiority to the bought attendant of his\nhumours. These were the resources of the man who distrusted the power of\nhis own genius to soar into the higher flights of original literature;\nthe man, who might perhaps be too conscientious, not to say also too\ntimid, to throw the chance of his being able to meet his obligations to\nsociety and to perform his social duties, on the chance of his\nsucceeding in the race for literary distinction.\n\nBut suppose the race run and gained, and the laurels on the victor's\nbrow,--for what, then, has all been risked, all encountered? True, Hume\nhimself became one of the distinguished few who gained both fame and\nfortune; but in the ordinary case, if the former were achieved, the\nlatter did not follow; and in seeking the types of literary distinction\nin his age, Fielding, Goldsmith, and Johnson are the names that rise\nbefore us. Was the garden in which these flowers bloomed so genial that\nwe would have others transplanted thither?\n\nLet not, then, the considerate and charitable reader overlook all these\npalliations of the motives which may have induced a great man to humble\nhimself and bear so much contumely. Let us suppose that he who reads\nthis narrative is an editor of a newspaper, with a salary of say two or\nthree hundred a-year; or that he writes articles for the periodicals,\nand neither in name nor in reality bound to any one, gets the fair price\nof his independent labour; or that he is a teacher in an active\ncommercial academy, who, after the harassing labours of the day, can\nretire to the bosom of his own family, without fearing the frown or\ndesiring the smile of any great man,--let him, if such should be his\nlot, indulge, in all its luxury, the consciousness of his superior\nindependence and happier fate; but in looking from its elevation to\nDavid Hume, a bondman in the house of an insane lord, let compassion\nrather than contempt tinge his estimate of the illustrious victim's\nmotives, and let him thank the better times, that with all the drudgery\nof his lot, its disappointed aspirations, and the bitterness of\nunavailing efforts to raise it to a higher and more justly-respected\nposition in the eye of the world, have yet enabled him to quaff the\nsweet cup of independence.\n\nBefore entirely leaving the subject of Hume's connexion with the Marquis\nof Annandale, it is necessary to take a view of his conduct regarding a\npecuniary dispute which arose out of the transaction. The terms of the\nagreement were very distinctly set forth by Captain Vincent in the\nfollowing letter:--\n\n\"SIR,--You desire to have a letter from me, expressing all the\nconditions of the agreement concluded betwixt us, with regard to your\nliving with the Marquis of Annandale. In compliance with so reasonable a\nrequest, I hereby acknowledge that, by virtue of powers committed to me\nby the said Marquis, and with the approbation and consent of his\nLordship and Sir James Johnstone, I engaged that my Lord should pay you\nthree hundred pounds sterling a-year, so long as you continued to live\nwith him, beginning from the first of April, one thousand seven hundred\nand forty-five: also that the said Marquis, or his heirs, should be\nengaged to pay you, or your heirs, the sum of three hundred pounds, as\none year's salary, even though the Marquis should happen to die any time\nin the first year of your attendance, or should embrace any new scheme\nor plan of life, which should make him choose that you should not\ncontinue to live out the first year with him. Another condition was,\nthat, if you should, on your part, choose to leave the Marquis any time\nin the first or subsequent years, you should be free to do it; and that\nthe Marquis should be bound to pay you your salary for the time you had\nattended him, and also the salary for that quarter in which you should\nleave him, in the same manner as if that quarter should be fully\nexpired.\n\n\"These were the conditions of our agreement about the end of February\nlast, on your first coming up to London for the purposes here mentioned,\nand which I have committed to writing for your satisfaction and\nsecurity, this first day of September, at Weldehall, four miles south of\nSt. Alban's, in the county of Hertford, and in the year one thousand\nseven hundred and forty-five.\"\n\nVincent, in continuation, and for Hume's information, gives him a copy\nof the agreement, under which one of his predecessors in office, by name\nPeter Young, had been engaged; an agreement, containing terms rather\nmore favourable to the stipendiary than those of which Hume had\nconsented to accept. And he concludes,--\n\n\"You see the latter part of Mr. Young's agreement are more advantageous\nterms than the latter part of yours; but I have done as much as I\nthought reasonable and proper for me, and as much as you desired. I make\nno doubt but, in any contingency, all the Marquis's friends and\nrelations, would be far from reducing your conditions less than that of\nothers in the same case, as, in my opinion, and I dare believe in\ntheirs, your character and conduct would rather entitle you to a\npreference.\"\n\nHume had in the mean time received a present of \u00a3100 from the Marquis of\nAnnandale, no reference to which is made in the agreement, and which he\nconsidered as a gratuity to induce him to leave Scotland, and enter on\nthose negotiations with Lord Annandale and his friends, which ended in\nhis being engaged, but might have ended otherwise; as an indemnity, in\nshort, for the time wasted and the trouble taken in the preliminary\narrangements. Indeed, it will have been noticed in his letter to Mr.\nSharp, quoted above,[202:1] that this gratuity was sent by the Marquis\nalong with the invitation to Hume to repair to London and hold a\nconference on the subject. Hume, then, was engaged at \u00a3300 a-year, with\nthe condition that for any broken quarter a full quarter's salary should\nbe paid. His engagement commenced on 1st April, 1745. It terminated on\nthe 15th April, 1746. He thus considered himself entitled to \u00a3300 as a\nyear's salary, and to \u00a375 as the salary of the quarter, of which fifteen\ndays had run. In the mean time, however, just after the expiry of the\nfirst year, it had occurred to the magnanimous Vincent, that though\nbetter terms than those given to Hume, had been obtained by the Peter\nYoungs and others, Hume's salary was twice as much as it should be, and\nought to be reduced by a half. Hume, as if he had been subdued in\nspirit, by the life he had been leading--feeling as if his lot were\ncast, and his fate fixed--oblivious of the glorious dreams of ambition\nthat had dawned on him ten years earlier in life and were yet to be\nrealized, seems to have calmly contemplated this pecuniary reduction,\nand to have been inclined to agree to it if it should form the prelude\nto a permanent engagement. He thus wrote to the mother of the Marquis.\n\n\"I had the honour of a letter from my Lord Marquis last spring, inviting\nme to London, which I accordingly obeyed. He made me proposals of living\nwith him; and Mr. Vincent, in concert with Sir James Johnstone,\nmentioned at first the yearly salary of \u00a3300 as an allowance which they\nthought reasonable; because my Lord had always paid so much to all the\nother gentlemen that attended him, even when his way of living, in other\nparticulars, was much more expensive than at present. Since that, Mr.\nVincent thinks this allowance too much, and proposes to reduce it from\n\u00a3300 to \u00a3150. My answer was, that whatever your Ladyship and my Lord\nshould think my attendance merited, that I would very willingly accept\nof. As he still insisted on the reasonableness of his opinion, I have\nused the freedom to apply to your Ladyship, to whose sentiments every\none, that has the honour of being connected with the family of\nAnnandale, owe so entire a deference. I shall not insist on any\ncircumstances in my own favour. Your Ladyship's penetration will easily\nbe able to discover those, as well as what may be urged in favour of Mr.\nVincent's opinion. And your determination shall be entirely submitted to\nby me.\"\n\nAt the same time he appears to have submitted his grievances to the\nconsideration of his kind friend Henry Home, who, in a letter to Sir\nJames Johnstone, expresses views which will probably meet with more\nsympathy than those announced by Hume himself.\n\n\n\"_Kames, 14th April, 1746._\n\n\"SIR,--I have a letter from Mr. David Hume lately, which surprised me\nnot a little, as if there were a plot formed against him to diminish his\nsalary. For my part, I was never hearty in his present situation; as I\ndid not consider the terms offered as any sufficient temptation for him\nto relinquish his studies, which, in all probability, would redound more\nto his advantage some time or other. For this reason, though I had a\ngood deal of indignation at the dishonourable behaviour of the author of\nthis motion, yet underhand I was not displeased with any occasion, not\nblameable on my friend's part, to disengage him. I thought instantly of\nwriting him a letter not to stay upon any terms after such an affront;\nbut, reflecting upon your interest in this matter, I found such an\nadvice would be inconsistent with the duty I owe you, and therefore\nstopped short till I should hear from you. I'm well apprized of the\ngreat tenderness you have for your poor chief; and it is certainly of\nsome consequence that he should have about him at least one person of\nintegrity; and it should have given me pain to be the author of an\nadvice that might affect you, though but indirectly. At the same time, I\ncannot think of sacrificing my friend, even upon your account, to make\nhim submit to dishonourable terms; and, therefore, if you esteem his\nattendance of any use to the Marquis, I beg you'll interpose that no\nmore attempts of this kind be made. For I must be so free to declare\nthat, should he himself yield to accept of lower terms, which I trust he\nwill not be so mean-spirited to do, he shall never have my consent, and\nI know he will not act without it.\"\n\n\nThe Marchioness declined to interfere, and thus the award by which Hume\nagreed to abide was not made. He had thus began the first quarter of a\nnew year under the old agreement, and he had not consented either to\nabandon the terms of that agreement for the time that was running, or\neven to make new terms applicable to any subsequent period, though he\nhad shown a disposition to accept, under certain circumstances, of these\nnew terms. His abrupt dismissal, however, put an end to the negotiation;\nand, as the terms of his agreement entitled him to the \u00a375 if he had\nchosen to throw up his appointment, he thought he was not the less\nentitled to the money that he had been dismissed, and that the\nignominious and insulting treatment connected with his dismissal should\nnot be any inducement to him to abandon his claim. He could not lose\nsight, moreover, of the circumstance, that to place the parties more at\ntheir ease in dealing with him, he had abandoned his claims on the\nprofessorship in Edinburgh. It is true that he had small chance of\nobtaining it, but that chance, such as it was, he was desired by the\nfriends of the Marquis to abandon, and he did so. The question with him\nthen was, how much injury he should allow to be added to the insults he\nhad received. The \u00a3300, for his year's services, were paid. The payment\nof the \u00a375, for the subsequent quarter, was resisted.\n\nOn the 9th June, 1746, Henry Home wrote a sensible and kind letter on\nthe subject to Sir James Johnstone, in which he laid down the law of the\ncase, that Hume's claim of salary for the broken quarter must be on the\nold agreement, and could not be \"upon the footing of a proposal or\noffer, which never came the length of a covenant, and which, therefore,\nnever had any effect;\" and he says,--\"The question then is, whether he\nis entitled to \u00a375, for the broken quarter, or only to \u00a337, 10s. The\nthing is a mere trifle to the Marquis of Annandale, but of some\nimportance to a young gentleman who has not a large stock; and supposing\nthe claim to be doubtful, I have great confidence in your generosity,\nthat for a trifle you would not choose to leave a grudge in the young\ngentleman's mind, of a hardship done to him.\n\n\"But to deal with you after that plain manner which I know you love, I\nwill speak out my mind to you, that in strict justice, and in the direct\nwords of the agreement, Mr. Hume is entitled to \u00a375.\"\n\nHume never entirely abandoned this claim. He was not in a position to\nurge it forward immediately after his dismissal, as another and more\nagreeable official appointment called him abroad. So late as 1760 and\nduring the next ensuing year, we find him urging his demand, and\nallusion is made to an action having been raised in the Court of\nSession. \"The case,\" says Dr. Murray, \"must have been settled\nextrajudicially or by reference; for, after a careful search in the\nminute book of the Court of Session, we do not find that it was ever\nenrolled.\"\n\nThere has been a general tendency to consider this pertinacious\nadherence to a pecuniary claim, as a proceeding unworthy of a\nphilosopher. In any ordinary man, whether wise or foolish after the\nwisdom of the world, such conduct would have appeared but just and\nnatural; but a philosopher is presumed to have no more respect for money\nand its value, than the generous and sympathizing gentleman on the\nstage, who on the impulse of the moment, always tosses a heavy purse to\nsomebody, without having any more distinct notion of its contents than\nthe admiring audience can have. Hume's notions of these matters were\ndifferent. \"Am I,\" he said, \"in a condition to make the Marquis of\nAnnandale a present of \u00a375, that of right belongs to me.\" It is true\nthat in the interval between the debt being incurred, and his insisting\non its payment, he had by frugality and industry made himself\nindependent. In 1747, he tells us that he was possessed of \u00a31000, and in\n1760, his fortune had probably considerably increased, though the\nsources of emolument which made him subsequently worth \u00a31000 a-year, had\nnot been then opened up. The surplus of the Marquis of Annandale's\nestate had in the mean time accumulated in the manner that has been\nalready mentioned, and Hume probably thought it was an action more truly\nworthy of a philosopher, to make over his salary of librarian to the\npoor blind poet Blacklock, than to abandon a claim of \u00a375, justly due\nby an estate which had developed a surplus of \u00a3400,000.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nEarly in the year 1746, Hume received an invitation from General St.\nClair, \"to attend him as a secretary to his expedition, which was at\nfirst meant against Canada, but ended in an incursion on the coast of\nFrance.\"[208:1] Before his departure, and while he expected to have to\ncross the Atlantic, he wrote the following letter, addressed to \"Mr.\nAlexander Home, Advocate, His Majesty's Solicitor for Scotland, at\nEdinburgh.\" The concluding remarks evidently relate to the state\nprosecutions following on the insurrection in Scotland.\n\n\n\"_Portsmouth, May 23, 1746._\n\n\"DEAR SOLICITOR,--A letter you have good reason to expect from me,\nbefore my departure for America; but a long one you cannot look for, if\nyou consider that I knew not a word of this matter till Sunday last at\nnight, that we shall begin to embark from hence in two or three days,\nand that I had very ingeniously stripped myself of every thing, by\nsending down my whole baggage for Scotland on Sunday morning. Such a\nromantic adventure, and such a hurry I have not heard of before. The\noffice is very genteel--10s. a day, perquisites, and no expenses.\nRemember me kindly to your brothers. Tell Frank I ask him ten thousand\npardons. Let Mr. Dysart, and Mrs. Dysart know of my good wishes. Be\nassured yourself of my friendship. I cannot leave Europe without giving\nyou one instance of it, and so much the greater that with regard to any\nother person but you, it would be a dangerous one. In short, I have\nbeen told, that the zeal of party has been apt sometimes to carry you\ntoo far in your expressions, and that fools are afraid of your violence\nin your new office. Seek the praise, my dear Sandy, of humanity and\nmoderation. 'Tis the most durable, the most agreeable, and in the end\nthe most profitable.\n\n\"I am, dear Sandy, yours most sincerely.\n\n\"For God's sake, think of _Willy Hamilton_.\"[209:1]\n\n\nAt the same time we find him writing to Henry Home, and speculating on\nthe possibility of himself joining the military service.\n\n\"As to myself, my way of life is agreeable; and though it may not be so\nprofitable as I am told, yet so large an army as will be under the\ngeneral's command in America, must certainly render my perquisites very\nconsiderable. I have been asked, whether I would incline to enter into\nthe service? My answer was, that at my years I could not decently accept\nof a lower commission than a company. The only prospect of working this\npoint would be, to procure at first a company in an American regiment,\nby the choice of the colonies. But this I build not on, nor indeed am I\nvery fond of it.[209:2] D. H.\"\n\nThe person to whom we thus find Hume acting in the capacity of\nsecretary, was the Honourable James St. Clair, one of those commanders\nwhose fortune it is to have passed through a long life of active\nmilitary service, without having one opportunity of performing a\ndistinguished action; for though, on the present occasion, the path to\nhonour appeared to be at last opened to him, it was closed by the\nmismanagement of others. He was the second son of Henry Lord St. Clair.\nHis elder brother being engaged in the rebellion of 1715, was attainted\nby act of Parliament. The father left the family estates to General St.\nClair, who, with a generous devotion to the hereditary principle,\nconveyed them to his elder brother, on that gentleman obtaining a pardon\nand a statutory removal of the disabilities of the attainder. He\nobtained the rank of colonel on 26th July, 1722, of major-general on\n15th August, 1741, and of lieutenant-general on 4th June, 1745. During\nthe last named year he was quarter-master general of the British forces\nin Flanders. He was for many years a member of Parliament, having been\nelected for the Dysart burghs in 1722, and subsequently for the counties\nof Sutherland and Fife. He died at Dysart on 30th November, 1762.[210:1]\n\nThe marine force connected with the proposed expedition was commanded by\nAdmiral Richard Lestock, a man whose professional fate was in some\nrespects of a like character with that of his military colleague. The\nintended object of the armament was an attack on the French possessions\nin Canada, and steps had been taken to second its efforts on the other\nside of the Atlantic, by bringing together a British American force. But\nthe indolence or negligence of the authorities at home, delayed the\ndeparture of the fleet until it was too late to attempt such an\nenterprise; and then, as if to furnish a vivid illustration of weak and\nblundering counsels, that all these preparations might not be thrown\naway, the force prepared for operations in America was sent to attempt a\ndescent on the coast of France.\n\nThe naval force, consisting of sixteen ships of the line, eight\nfrigates, and two bomb-ketches, accompanied by five thousand eight\nhundred land troops, including matrosses and bombardiers, set sail from\nPlymouth on 14th September.[211:1] Its destination was the town of Port\nL'Orient, then a flourishing port, as the depot of the French East India\nCompany, which has since fallen to decay in common with the great\nestablishment with which it was connected. The history and fate of the\nexpedition will be best described in Hume's own words. It afforded no\nharvest of military glory to either country; and while it is but\nslightly described by our own historians, it is scarcely ever mentioned\nby those of France. National partiality will hardly make any lover of\nthe true glory of his country regret that such an attempt was a failure.\nThe method of conducting war by descents upon an enemy's coast, is a\nrelic of barbarism which it is to be hoped the progress of humanity and\ncivilisation will not permit either false enthusiasm or the auspices of\na great name to revive among the nations of Europe. It is precisely the\nwarlike tactic of the scalping knife--the wreaking against the weak that\nvengeance which cannot reach the strong. The rules of civilized war are\nto strike such blows as will annihilate the power of an enemy's\ngovernment, with the least injury to the peaceful inhabitants of the\ncountry. Descents on a coast do much injury to individuals--they do\nlittle harm to the enemy's government. It is a system by which the vital\nparts are not attacked until they suffer by exhaustion from the injuries\ndone to the extremities. Such expeditions do a grievous injury to our\nenemies, to accomplish a very small good to ourselves. But if they\ncannot be avoided, the next step of mercy is to make them effectual by\nenergetic and well-organized measures which render resistance hopeless,\nand subject the places attacked only to the modified license of a\nwell-disciplined army. The blunders that made the present attempt as\ncontemptible as it was cruel, are amply recorded by Hume, and may be a\nlesson of the responsibility incurred by those who fit out warlike\nexpeditions.\n\nIn this expedition Hume not only acted as secretary to the general, but\nwas appointed by him judge advocate of all the forces under his command,\nby a commission \"given on board his majesty's ship Superb, the third day\nof August, 1746,\"[212:1] in virtue of the power which the commander of\nan army possesses to fill up a vacancy in that office. The mixed\nministerial and judicial duties of a judge advocate require a general\nknowledge of the great principles of law and justice, with a freedom\nfrom that technical thraldom of the practical lawyer which would be\nunsuitable to the rapidity of military operations; and there can be\nlittle doubt that these delicate and important functions were in this\ninstance committed to one in every way capable of performing them in a\nsatisfactory manner.\n\nSome of Hume's permanent friendships appear to have been formed during\nthis expedition. General Abercromby, with whom we will afterwards find\nhim corresponding, was quarter-master general, Harry Erskine was deputy\nquarter-master, and Edmonstoune of Newton was a captain in the Royal\nScottish regiment. Of the operations of the expedition, and some other\nincidents of deep interest connected with it, he sent the following\nnarrative to his brother, John Hume, or Home, of Ninewells.\n\n\nHUME _to his Brother_.\n\n\"Our first warlike attempt has been unsuccessful, though without any\nloss or dishonour. The public rumour must certainly have informed you\nthat, being detained in the Channel, till it was too late to go to\nAmerica, the ministry, who were willing to make some advantage of so\nconsiderable a sea and land armament, sent us to seek adventures on the\ncoast of France. Though both the general and admiral were totally\nunacquainted with every part of the coast, without pilots, guides, or\nintelligence of any kind, and even without the common maps of the\ncountry; yet, being assured there were no regular troops near this whole\ncoast, they hoped it was not possible but something might be\nsuccessfully undertaken. They bent their course to Port L'Orient, a fine\ntown on the coast of Britanny, the seat of the French East India trade,\nand which about twenty years ago was but a mean, contemptible village.\nThe force of this town, the strength of its garrison, the nature of the\ncoast and country, they professed themselves entirely ignorant of,\nexcept from such hearsay information as they had casually picked up at\nPlymouth. However, we made a happy voyage of three days, landed in the\nface of about 3000 armed militia on the 20th of September, marched up\nnext day to the gates of L'Orient, and surveyed it.\n\n\"It lies at the bottom of a fine bay two leagues long, the mouth of\nwhich is commanded by the town and citadel of Port Louis, or Blavet, a\nplace of great strength, and situated on a peninsula. The town of\nL'Orient itself has no great strength, though surrounded by a new wall\nof about 30 foot high, fortified with half moons, and guarded with some\ncannon. They were in prodigious alarm at so unexpected an attack by\nnumbers which their fears magnified, and immediately offered to\ncapitulate, though upon terms which would have made their conquest of no\nsignificancy to us. They made some advances a few hours after, to abate\nof their demands; but the general positively refused to accept of the\ntown on any other condition than that of surrendering at discretion. He\nhad very good reason for this seeming rigour and haughtiness. It has\nlong been the misfortune of English armies to be very ill-served in\nengineers; and surely there never was on any occasion such an assemblage\nof ignorant blockheads as those which at this time attended us. They\npositively affirmed it was easily in their power, by the assistance of a\nmortar and two twelve pounders, in ten hours' time, either to lay the\ntown and East India magazine in ashes, or make a breach by which the\nforces might easily enter. This being laid before the general and\nadmiral, they concluded themselves already masters of the\ntown,and[214:1] needed grant no terms. They were besides afraid that had\nthey taken the town upon terms, and redeemed it for a considerable sum\nof money, the good people of England, who love mischief, would not be\nsatisfied, but would still entertain a suspicion that the success of his\nmajesty's arms had been secretly sold by his commanders. Besides,\nnothing could be a greater blow to the French trade than the destruction\nof this town; nor what[214:2] could imprint a stronger terror of the\nEnglish naval power, and more effectually reduce the French to a\nnecessity of guarding their coast with regular forces, which must\nproduce a great diversion from their ambitious projects on the\nfrontiers. But when the engineers came to execution, it was found they\ncould do nothing of what they had promised. Not one of their carkasses\nor red hot balls took effect. As the town could not be invested either\nby sea or land, they got a garrison of irregulars and regulars, which\nwas above double our number, and played 35 pieces of cannon upon us\nwhile we could bring only four against them. Excessive rains fell, which\nbrought sickness amongst our men that had been stowed in transports\nduring the whole summer. We were ten miles from the fleet, the roads\nentirely spoilt, every thing was drawn by men, the whole horses in the\ncountry being driven away. So much fatigue and duty quite overcame our\nlittle army. The fleet anchored in a very unsafe place in Quimperlay\nBay. For these and other reasons it was unanimously determined to raise\nthe siege on the 27th of September; and to this measure there was not\none contradictory opinion either in the fleet or army. We have not lost\nabove ten men by the enemy in the whole expedition, and were not in the\nleast molested either in our retreat or re-embarkation. We met with a\nviolent storm on the 1st of October, while we were yet very near the\ncoast, and have now got into Quiberon Bay south of Belle-Isle, where we\nwait for a reinforcement of three battalions from England. There are\nfive or six of our transports amissing. After our French projects are\nover, which must be very soon because of the late season, we sail to\nCork and Kingsale.\n\n\"While we lay at Ploemeur, a village about a league from L'Orient,\nthere happened in our family one of the most tragical stories ever I\nheard of, and than which nothing ever gave me more concern. I know not\nif ever you heard of Major Forbes, a brother of Sir Arthur's. He was,\nand was esteemed, a man of the greatest sense, honour, modesty,\nmildness, and equality of temper, in the world. His learning was very\ngreat for a man of any profession; but a prodigy for a soldier. His\nbravery had been tried, and was unquestioned. He had exhausted himself\nwith fatigue and hunger for two days, so that he was obliged to leave\nthe camp and come to our quarters, where I took the utmost care of him,\nas there was a great friendship betwixt us. He expressed vast anxiety\nthat he should be obliged to leave his duty, and fear lest his honour\nshould suffer by it. I endeavoured to quiet his mind as much as\npossible, and thought I had left him tolerably composed at night; but,\nreturning to his room early next morning, I found him, with small\nremains of life, wallowing in his own blood, with the arteries of his\narm cut asunder. I immediately sent for a surgeon, got a bandage tied to\nhis arm, and recovered him entirely to his senses and understanding. He\nlived above four-and-twenty hours after, and I had several conversations\nwith him. Never a man expressed a more steady contempt of life, nor more\ndetermined philosophical principles, suitable to his exit. He begged of\nme to unloosen his bandage, and hasten his death, as the last act of\nfriendship I could show him: but, alas! we live not in Greek or Roman\ntimes. He told me that he knew he could not live a few days: but if he\ndid, as soon as he became his own master, he would take a more\nexpeditious method, which none of his friends could prevent. 'I die,'\nsays he, 'from a jealousy of honour, perhaps too delicate; and do you\nthink, if it were possible for me to live, I would now consent to it,\nto be a gazing-stock to the foolish world. I am too far advanced to\nreturn. And if life was odious to me before, it must be doubly so at\npresent.' He became delirious a few hours before he died. He had wrote a\nshort letter to his brother, above ten hours before he cut his arteries.\nThis we found on the table.\"\n\n\"_Quiberon Bay in Britanny, Oct. 4, 1746._\"\n\n\"P.S.--The general has not sent off his despatches till to-day, so that\nI have an opportunity of saying a few words more. Our army disembarked\non the 4th of October, and took possession of the peninsula of Quiberon,\nwithout opposition. We lay there, without molestation, for eight days,\nthough the enemy had formed a powerful, at least a numerous, army of\nmilitia on the continent. The separation of so many of our transports,\nand the reinforcements not coming, determined us to reimbark, and return\nhome, with some small hopes that our expedition has answered the chief\npart of its intended purpose, by making a diversion from the French army\nin Flanders. The French pretend to have gained a great victory; but with\nwhat truth we know not. The admiral landed some sailors, and took\npossession of the two islands of Houat and Hedie, which were secured by\nsmall forts. The governor of one of them, when he surrendered his fort,\ndelivered up his purse to the sea officer, and begged him to take care\nof it, and secure it from the pillage of the sailors. The officer took\ncharge of it, and, finding afterwards a proper opportunity to examine\nit, found it contained the important sum of ten sous, which is less than\nsixpence of our money.\"[217:1]\n\n\"_October 17._\"\n\n\nAs Niebuhr was an eye-witness of the battle of Copenhagen, so Hume also\nhad thus an opportunity of observing some practical warlike operations,\nthough they were on a much smaller scale, and were witnessed in much\nless exciting circumstances than those which attended the position of\nthe citizen of Copenhagen. Thus, although not themselves soldiers, these\ntwo great historians swell the list, previously containing the names of\nThucydides, Xenophon, Polybius, Guicciardini, Davila, and Rapin, of\nthose historians of warfare who have witnessed its practical operation.\nVoltaire, when the accuracy of his description of a battle was\nquestioned by one who had been engaged in it, bid the soldier keep to\nhis profession of fighting, and not interfere with another man's, which\nwas that of writing; but there is little doubt, that the person who\nwould accurately describe military manoeuvres, will have his task\nfacilitated by having actually witnessed some warlike operations, on\nhowever small a scale, and however unlike in character to those which he\nhas to describe. Scott considered that he had derived much of his\nfacility as a narrative historian from his services in the Mid-Lothian\nyeomanry; and Gibbon found that to be an active officer in the Hampshire\nmilitia was not without its use to the historian of the latter days of\nRome.\n\nIt is pretty clear that Hume looked upon these operations, not only as\nevents likely to furnish him with some critical knowledge of warlike\naffairs, but with the inquiring eye of one who might have an opportunity\nof afterwards narrating them in some historical work. In the appendix\nthere will be found a pretty minute account by Hume, of the causes which\nled to the failure of the expedition, in a paper apparently drawn up as\na vindication of the conduct of General St. Clair. It does not appear\nto have been printed, although it seems to have been designed for the\npress. It contains the following passage: \"A certain foreign writer,\nmore anxious to tell his stories in an entertaining manner than to\nassure himself of their reality, has endeavoured to put this expedition\nin a ridiculous light; but as there is not one circumstance in his\nnarration that has truth in it, or even the least appearance of truth,\nit would be needless to lose time in refuting it.\"\n\nThe following passage in a letter to Sir Harry Erskine, dated 20th\nJanuary, 1756,[219:1] shows that he here alludes to Voltaire: \"I have\nbeen set upon by several to write something, though it were only to be\ninserted in the Magazines, in opposition to this account which Voltaire\nhas given of our expedition. But my answer still is, that it is not\nworth while, and that he is so totally mistaken in every circumstance of\nthat affair, and indeed of every affair, that I presume nobody will pay\nattention to him. I hope you are of the same opinion.\" But if Voltaire\never wrote on this subject, it must have been in one of those works of\nwhich he took the liberty of determinedly denying the authorship, for\nthere appears to be nothing bearing on the subject in the usual editions\nof his published and acknowledged works, and in his \"Pr\u00e9cis du Siecle de\nLouis XV.,\" he passes over the expedition with the briefest possible\nallusion.\n\nWe find Hume, on the return of the expedition, writing the following\nletter to Henry Home. It contains some curious notices of its writer's\nviews and intentions, and betrays a sort of irresolution as to his\nsubsequent projects, which seems to have haunted him through life. It is\nhere that we find the first allusion to his historical studies. The\nextracts from his notes, or adversaria, printed above, show that he had\nread much in history, but chiefly in that of the ancient nations. It\ndoes not appear that he had yet paid any marked attention to British\nhistory.\n\n\nHUME _to_ HENRY HOME.\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am ashamed of being so long in writing to you. If I should\nplead laziness, you would say I am much altered; if multiplicity of\nbusiness, you would scarce believe me; if forgetfulness of you and our\nfriendship, I should tell a gross untruth. I can therefore plead nothing\nbut idleness, and a gay, pleasurable life, which steals away hour after\nhour, and day after day, and leaves no time for such occupations as\none's sober reason may approve most of. This is our case while on shore,\nand even while on board, as far as one can have much enjoyment in that\nsituation.\n\n\"I wrote my brother from the coast of Britanny; giving him some account\nof our expedition, and of the causes of our disappointment. I suppose he\nreceived it after you had left the country, but I doubt not he has\ninformed you of it. We were very near a great success, the taking of\nL'Orient, perhaps Port Louis, which would have been a prodigious blow to\nFrance; and, having an open communication with the sea, might have made\na great diversion of their forces, and done great service to the common\ncause. I suppose you are become a great general, by the misfortune of\nthe seat of war being so long in your neighbourhood. I shall be able\nwhen we meet to give you the just cause of our failure. Our expedition\nto North America is now at an end; we are recalled to England, the\nconvoy is arrived, and we re-embark in a few days. I have an invitation\nto go over to Flanders with the general, and an offer of table, tent,\nhorses, &c. I must own I have a great curiosity to see a real campaign,\nbut I am deterred by the view of the expense, and am afraid, that living\nin a camp, without any character, and without any thing to do, would\nappear ridiculous. Had I any fortune which would give me a prospect of\nleisure and opportunity to prosecute my _historical projects_, nothing\ncould be more useful to me, and I should pick up more literary knowledge\nin one campaign, by living in the general's family, and being introduced\nfrequently to the duke's, than most officers could do after many years'\nservice. But to what can all this serve? I am a philosopher, and so, I\nsuppose, must continue.\n\n\"I am very uncertain of getting half pay, from several strange and\nunexpected accidents, which it would be too tedious to mention; and if I\nget it not, shall neither be gainer nor loser by the expedition. I\nbelieve, if I would have begun the world again, I might have returned an\nofficer, gratis; and am certain, might have been made chaplain to a\nregiment gratis; but[221:1] . . . . . . . I need say no more. I shall\nstay a little time in London, to see if any thing new will present\nitself. If not, I shall return very cheerfully to books, leisure, and\nsolitude, in the country. An elegant table has not spoiled my relish for\nsobriety; nor gaiety for study; and frequent disappointments have taught\nme that nothing need be despaired of, as well as that nothing can be\ndepended on. You give yourself violent airs of wisdom; you will say,\n_Odi hominem ignav\u00e2 oper\u00e2, philosophic\u00e2 sententi\u00e2_. But you will not\nsay so when you see me again with my Xenophon or Polybius in my hand;\nwhich, however, I shall willingly throw aside to be cheerful with you,\nas usual. My kind compliments to Mrs. Home, who, I am sorry to hear, has\nnot yet got entirely the better of her illness. I am,\" &c.[222:1]\n\n\nWe find Hume corresponding also with Oswald and Colonel Abercromby, as\nto his claim of half-pay for his services as Judge Advocate in the\nexpedition; and this subject we find him occasionally resuming down to\nso late a period as 1763, when he speaks of \"insurmountable\ndifficulties,\" and fears he must \"despair of success.\"[222:2] It must be\nadmitted that when he thought fit to make a pecuniary claim he did not\neasily resign it. His correspondent, Colonel Abercromby of Glassauch,\nhas already been mentioned as having held a command in the expedition.\nHe was afterwards one of Hume's intimate friends. Besides his rank in\nthe army, he held the two discordant offices of king's painter in\nScotland, and deputy-governor of Stirling castle. He was elected member\nof parliament for the shire of Banff in 1735,[222:3] and Hume's letters\ncontain congratulations on his re-election in 1747, along with some\nincidents in his own journey towards Scotland.\n\n\n\"_Ninewells. 7th August, 1747._\n\n\"DEAR COL{L}.--I have many subjects to congratulate you upon. The honour\nyou acquired at Sandberg, your safety, and your success in your\nelections. You are equally eminent in the arts of peace and war. The\ncabinet is no less a scene of glory to you than the field. You are a\nhero even in your sports and amusements; and discover a superior genius\nin whist, as well as in a state intrigue or in a battle.\n\n\"I hope you recover well of your wound, and I beg of you to inform me. I\nshould be glad to know what became of Forster, and whether Bob Horne got\nthe majority. I write to you upon the supposition of your being at\nLondon; because Dr. Clephane wrote me some time ago, that you was just\nsetting out for it. If that be the case please make my most humble\ncompliments to Mrs. Abercromby.\n\n\"If the Colonel be still detained abroad by any accident, I must beg it\nof you, Mrs. Abercromby, to take these compliments to yourself, and to\nkeep this letter till the Colonel comes over, for it is not worth while\nto pay postage for it. I suppose, madam, that Lady Abercromby informed\nyou of our happy voyage together, and safe arrival in Newcastle: your\nyoung cousin was a little noisy and obstreperous; our ship was dirty;\nour accommodation bad; our company sick. There were four spies, two\ninformers, and three evidences, who sailed in the same ship with us. Yet\nnotwithstanding all these circumstances, we were very well pleased with\nour voyage, chiefly on account of its shortness, which indeed is almost\nthe only agreeable circumstance that can be in a voyage. I am, &c.\"\n\n\"To the royal in Bergen-op-zoom?[223:1] Have they lost any officers? I\nhope Guidelianus[223:2] is safe? I hope Fraser is converted?\"\n\n\nIn his correspondence with Oswald on the same matter of his half-pay,\nhis remarks on public affairs are very desponding. He says,--\n\n\"I know not whether I ought to congratulate you upon the success of\nyour election,[224:1] where you prevailed so unexpectedly. I think the\npresent times are so calamitous, and our future prospect so dismal, that\nit is a misfortune to have any concern in public affairs, which one\ncannot redress, and where it is difficult to arrive at a proper degree\nof insensibility or philosophy, as long as one is in the scene. You know\nmy sentiments were always a little gloomy on that head; and I am sorry\nto observe, that all accidents (besides the natural course of events)\nturn out against us. What a surprising misfortune is this\nBergen-op-zoom, which is almost unparalleled in modern history! I hear\nthe Dutch troops, besides their common cowardice, and ill-discipline,\nare seized with an universal panic. This winter may perhaps decide the\nfate of Holland, and then where are we? I shall not be much disappointed\nif this prove the last parliament, worthy the name, we shall ever have\nin Britain. I cannot therefore congratulate you upon your having a seat\nin it: I can only congratulate you upon the universal joy and\nsatisfaction it gave to every body.\"[224:2]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[171:1] Letters of David Hume, and extracts from letters referring to\nhim, edited by Thomas Murray, LL.D., author of \"The Literary History of\nGalloway.\" Edinburgh, 1841, 8vo, pp. 80. Dr. Murray says of these\nletters: \"The originals are supposed to have been deposited, about\neighty years ago, in the hands of a legal gentleman in Edinburgh, as\ndocuments for a law-suit, to which the latter portion of them refers.\nSince his death, they have, we believe, passed through several hands\nwithout having attracted any particular attention, or, perhaps, without\nhaving ever been read. They ultimately came into the possession of a\ngentleman who appreciated their value, and who, several years ago, did\nme the honour of presenting them unconditionally to me.\"\n\n[172:1] The Marquis is said to have afforded the first example of his\nstate of mind, in the manner in which he gave a ball at Dumfries. He had\nthe floor covered with confections, as a garden walk is laid with\ngravel. A lady who was alive a few years ago, remembered having seen him\nwalking about at Highgate, near London; when he was probably in a more\nconfirmed state of insanity than even his intercourse with Hume\nexhibits: a keeper walked before him, and a footman behind. The latter\nwould occasionally tap his Lordship on the shoulder, and hand him a\nsnuff-box, whence he would take a pinch. He was a very handsome man. He\nhad a sister, who exercised so much influence over him, that in her\npresence a keeper could be dispensed with.\n\n[174:1] The following, discovered by a friend in an old newspaper, is so\namusing, and so descriptive of the man who was Hume's predecessor in\noffice, that I cannot resist inserting it:--\n\n\n_On_ CAPTAIN (BEAU) FORRESTER'S _travelling to the Highlands of Scotland\nin winter, anno 1727, incog._\n\n     O'er Caledonia's ruder Alps\n       While Forrester pursu'd his way,\n     The mountains veil'd their rugged scalps,\n       And wrapt in snow and wonder lay!\n\n     Each sylvan god, each rural power,\n       Peep'd out to see the raree-show;\n     And all confess'd, that, till that hour,\n       They ne'er had seen so bright a beau.\n\n     Nay yet, and more I dare advance,\n       The story true as aught in print,\n     All nature round, in complaisance,\n       And imitation, took the hint.\n\n     The fields that whilome only bore\n       Wild heath, or clad at best with oats,\n     Despis'd these humble weeds, and wore\n       Rich spangled doublets, and lac'd coats.\n\n     The hills were periwigg'd with snow;\n       Pig-tails of ice hung on each tree;\n     The winds turn'd powder-puffs; and, lo,\n       On every shrub a sharp toupee!\n\n     With silver clocks the river gods\n       Appear'd; and some will take their oath,\n     Or lay at least a thousand odds,\n       The clouds saliving spit white froth.\n\n     The youth abash'd thus to survey\n       So rude a scene himself outdo,\n     His sprightly genius to display,\n       Resolv'd on something odd and new:\n\n     All things he found were grown genteel,\n       Which made him deem it a-propos,\n     To be alone in dishabile,\n       A Forrester, and not a beau.\n\n                          _Edinburgh Courant_, Oct. 3, 1781.\n\n[176:1] The baronet's daughter, Margaret, had married the Earl of\nAirley's eldest son, Lord Ogilvy, who, having engaged in the rebellion,\nhad fled to the continent after the battle of Culloden. His wife,\nhowever, was among the prisoners; and in June 1746, she was committed to\nEdinburgh Castle. In the ensuing November she escaped; and having joined\nher husband in France, she died there, in 1757, at the age of\nthirty-three. _Douglas's Peerage of Scotland_, vol. i. p. 35.\n\n[178:1] He had obtained this rank in 1729. Beatson's Political Index.\n\n[178:2] Matthew Sharp, born 18th Feb. 1693, was the second son of John\nSharp of Hoddam, by his wife Susan, daughter of John Muir of\nCassencarrie, ancestor of Sir John Muir Mackenzie of Delvin, Bart. Mr.\nSharp joined the Jacobite insurgents in the year 1715, and made his\nescape to Scotland, after the rout at Preston, in the disguise of a\npig-driver. He then repaired to France, where he finally took up his\nresidence at Boulogne. In the year 1740 his elder brother George died,\nand Mr. Sharp succeeded to the estate of Hoddam. He returned to his\nnative country, and died, unmarried, at Hoddam castle, in the year 1769.\n\n[179:1] Charles Erskine of Tinwald, third son of Sir Charles Erskine of\nAlva, Bart., a Lord of Session, with the style of Lord Tinwald. His\nfirst wife was Grizel, daughter of John Grierson of Barjarg, by\nCatherine, eldest sister of Matthew Sharp of Hoddam. Lord Tinwald's\nthird daughter Jane, married to William Kirkpatrick, second son of Sir\nThomas Kirkpatrick of Closeburne, Bart. was mother of Charles\nKirkpatrick, to whom Matthew Sharp bequeathed his estate of Hoddam.\n\n[180:1] Original in the possession of Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, Esq.\nThis letter is printed in _The Edinburgh Annual Register_ for 1809, p.\n552.\n\n[196:1] So much had it been considered a legitimate object of the\neducation of a young gentleman to bring him up to the expectation of a\ngovernment office, that in the \"Institute of the Law of Scotland,\" the\nposthumous work of John Erskine, who had been appointed professor of\nScots law in the university of Edinburgh in 1737, it is mentioned as one\nof the duties of the guardian of a young man of good family with a small\npatrimony, to \"advance a yearly sum, far beyond the interest of his\npatrimony, that he may appear suitably to his quality, while he is\nunprovided of any office under the government by which he can live\ndecently.\" B. i. Tit. 7. \u00a7 25.\n\n[197:1] Walpole gives a curious illustration of the poverty of the\nScottish nobility, before \"the forty-five,\" saying of Lord Kilmarnock,\n\"I don't know whether I told you that the man at the tennis court\nprotests that he has known him dine with the man that sells pamphlets at\nStorey's gate, and says he would have often been glad if I would have\ntaken him home to dinner. He was certainly so poor that in one of his\nwife's intercepted letters, she tells him she has plagued their steward\nfor a fortnight for money, and can only get three shillings. Can any one\nhelp pitying such distress?\" Walpole's Letters, ii. 144.\n\nGoldsmith found the holder of a Scottish Peerage keeping a glove shop,\nand in the case of Lord Mordington, who had been arrested for debt, and\nclaimed his privilege in the Common Pleas, \"the bailiff made affidavit,\nthat when he arrested the said lord, he was so mean in his apparel, as\nhaving a worn out suit of clothes and a dirty shirt on, and but sixpence\nin his pocket, he could not suppose him to be a peer of Great Britain,\nand of inadvertency arrested him.\" Fortescue's Reports, 165. This family\nwas peculiarly celebrated, Lady Mordington having raised the question,\nwhether a Scottish peeress who kept a tavern was protected by privilege\nof peerage from being amenable to the laws against keeping disorderly\nhouses.\n\n[198:1] He had an example connected with his own neighbourhood, if not\nwith his own family, of the practice of the gentry following handicraft\ntrades. George Hume, son of the minister of his native parish,\nChirnside, who was connected with his own family, followed the humble\noccupation of a baker in the Canongate, and rose to the dignity of\ndeacon of his trade. Ill-natured tradition says, that the philosopher\ndisliked the vicinity to himself of this living illustration of the\ndepression of the Scottish aristocracy, and occasionally put himself to\nsome trouble to avoid meeting him on the street; but this tradition is\nnot consistent with Hume's manly character.\n\n[202:1] P. 179.\n\n[208:1] My own Life.\n\n[209:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[209:2] Tytler's Life of Kames, i. 123.\n\n[210:1] Douglas's Peerage, ii. 501-502.\n\n[211:1] Campbell's Naval History, iv. 324. Appendix, A. It appears that\nRodney commanded one of the ships, the Eagle.\n\n[212:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[214:1] Sic in MS.\n\n[214:2] Ibid.\n\n[217:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[219:1] In the possession of Cosmo Innes, Esq.\n\n[221:1] Mr. Tytler says, \"The blank is in the manuscript, the reader\nwill be at no loss to supply it.\"\n\n[222:1] Tytler's Life of Kames, 125.\n\n[222:2] Memorials, &c. 76.\n\n[222:3] Beatson, Parliamentary Register.\n\n[223:1] In allusion to the Royal Scottish Regiment--Bergen-op-zoom had\nbeen taken by storm on 16th Sept.\n\n[223:2] This name--probably latinised from some joke known only to the\nparties, applies to Col. Edmonstoune of Newton.\n\n[224:1] For Fifeshire.\n\n[224:2] Memorials, &c. p. 54.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n1746-1748. \u00c6T. 35-37.\n\n     Hume returns to Ninewells--His domestic Position--His attempts\n     in Poetry--Inquiry as to his Sentimentalism--Takes an interest\n     in Politics--Appointed Secretary to General St. Clair on his\n     mission to Turin--His journal of his Tour--Arrival in Holland\n     --Rotterdam--The Hague--Breda--The War--French Soldiers--\n     Nimeguen--Cologne--Bonn--The Rhine and its scenery--Coblentz--\n     Wiesbaden--Frankfurt--Battle of Dettingen--Wurzburg--Ratisbon\n     --Descent of the Danube--Observations on Germany--Vienna--The\n     Emperor and Empress Queen--Styria--Carinthia--The Tyrol--\n     Mantua--Cremona--Turin.\n\n\nWe now find Hume restored, though but for a brief period, to the\ntranquil retirement of Ninewells; and undisturbed by public events,\ncivil or warlike, sitting down quietly among his books in the midst of\nhis family circle, consisting of his mother, his elder brother, and his\nsister. It would be interesting to obtain a glimpse of this circle and\nits habits; but the lapse of nearly a century has thrown it too far into\nthe shade of time, to permit of these minute objects being\ndistinguished. Perhaps the following scrap from the papers preserved by\nHume himself,[225:1] may represent the evening diversions of Ninewells.\nIt is written by another hand, but is touched and corrected here and\nthere by Hume. Whether or not it is intended to have any reference to\nhimself, is a matter on which I shall not attempt to forestall the\nreader's judgment.\n\n\n_Character of ----, written by himself._\n\n1. A very good man, the constant purpose of whose life is to do\nmischief.\n\n2. Fancies he is disinterested, because he substitutes vanity in place\nof all other passions.\n\n3. Very industrious, without serving either himself or others.\n\n4. Licentious in his pen, cautious in his words, still more so in his\nactions.\n\n5. Would have had no enemies, had he not courted them; seems desirous of\nbeing hated by the public, but has only attained the being railed at.\n\n6. Has never been hurt by his enemies, because he never hated any one of\nthem.\n\n7. Exempt from vulgar prejudices--full of his own.\n\n8. Very bashful, somewhat modest, no way humble.\n\n9. A fool, capable of performances which few wise men can execute.\n\n10. A wise man, guilty of indiscretions which the greatest simpletons\ncan perceive.\n\n11. Sociable, though he lives in solitude.\n\n12.[226:1]\n\n13. An enthusiast, without religion; a philosopher, who despairs to\nattain truth.\n\nA moralist, who prefers instinct to reason.\n\nA gallant, who gives no offence to husbands and mothers.\n\nA scholar, without the ostentation of learning.\n\n\nSir Walter Scott says:--\"We visited Corby castle on our return to\nScotland, which remains, in point of situation, as beautiful as when its\nwalks were celebrated by David Hume, in the only rhymes he was ever\nknown to be guilty of. Here they are from a pane of glass in an inn at\nCarlisle,--\n\n     Here chicks in eggs for breakfast sprawl,\n     Here godless boys God's glories squall,\n     Here Scotchmen's heads do guard the wall,\n     But Corby's walks atone for all.\"[227:1]\n\nIn the face, both of this assurance of the limited extent of Hume's\npoetical efforts, and of the circumstance that he was occasionally in\nthe practice of copying such verses as pleased his ear,[227:2] or fancy,\nI venture to offer the following specimens of his versification,\nadmitting the possibility but not the probability that some minute\ninvestigator might be able to identify them as the production of a less\ndistinguished bard. The censorious critic will probably admit their\ngenuineness, on the plea that no one but their author would commit such\nverses to writing. But apart from their internal evidence, there is\nevery reason to presume that these efforts are by Hume. The first piece\nis dated in the writer's hand, as if to mark the day when it was\ncomposed. With the exception of the third in order, they all contain,\nin corrections and otherwise, decided marks of being composed by the\nperson in whose handwriting they are; and they are in the handwriting of\nDavid Hume.[228:1]\n\n_4th Nov. 1747._\n\n     Go, plaintive sounds, and to the fair\n       My secret wounds impart,\n     Tell all I hope, tell all I fear,\n       Each motion in my heart.\n\n     But she, methinks, is listening now\n       To some amusing strain,\n     The smile that triumphs o'er her brow,\n       Seems not to heed my pain.\n\n     Yet, plaintive sounds--yet, yet delay,\n       Howe'er my love repine,\n     Let this gay minute pass away,\n       The next, perhaps, is mine.\n\n     Yes, plaintive sounds, no longer crost,\n       Your griefs shall soon be o'er;\n     Her cheek, undimpled now, has lost\n       The smile it lately wore.\n\n     Yes, plaintive sounds, she now is yours,\n       'Tis now your turn to move:\n     Essay to soften all her powers,\n       And be that softness love.\n\n     Cease plaintive sounds, your task is done,\n       That serious tender air\n     Proves o'er her heart the conquest won,\n       I see you melting there.\n\n     Return, ye smiles,--return again,\n       Bring back each sprightly grace:\n     I yield up to your charming reign\n       That sweet enchanting face.\n\n     I take no outward shows amiss;\n       Rove where you will, her eyes:\n     Still let her smiles each shepherd bless,\n       So that she hear my sighs.\n\nIf this piece be deficient in fire or polish, it has at least the merit\nof simplicity, and of not being a slavish adaptation to the formal\ntaste of the age. The following pieces will scarcely perhaps be thought\nworthy of the like qualified praise.\n\n     Tell me, Clarinda, why this scorn,\n       Why hatred give for love?\n     Why for a gentler purpose born,\n       Wouldst thou a tyrant prove?\n\n     Why draw a cloud upon that face,\n       Made to enslave mankind?\n     Why through your lips does thunder pass,\n       Those lips for love design'd.\n\n     Kindness, conjoin'd with meaner charms,\n       Will from you conquests gain;\n     We fly into _extended_ arms,\n       In _close-embraced_ remain.\n\n     Thus when the angry heavens transform\n       To frowns their cheerful smiles,\n     When the dread thunder's voice a storm\n       To trembling swains foretells,\n\n     If but a humble cottage nigh\n       Presents its peaceful shade,\n     We scorn the furies of the sky,\n       And court its friendly aid.\n\n\nTO A LADY,\n\n_Suspecting that the friendship of men to her sex always concealed a\nmore dangerous passion._\n\n     Hang, my lyre, upon the willow,\n       Sigh to winds thy notes forlorn,\n     Or along the foaming billow,\n       Float the wrecking tempest's scorn.\n\n     Airs no more thy warbling raises,\n       Such as Laura deigns approve;\n     Laura scorns her poet's praises,\n       Artless friendship calls it love.\n\n     Impious love, that, spurning duty,\n       Spurning nature's chastest ties,\n     Mocks thy tears, dejected beauty,\n       Sports with fallen virtue's sighs.\n\n     Call it love no more, profaning\n       Truth with dark suspicion's wound;\n     Or, if still the term retaining,\n       Change the sense, preserve the sound.\n\n     Yes, 'tis love, that name is given,\n       Angels, to your purest flames;\n     Such a love as merits Heaven,\n       Heaven's divinest image claims.\n\n\nLAURA'S ANSWER.\n\n     Soon be thy lyre to winds consign'd.\n       Or hurl'd beneath the raging deep;\n     For while such strains seduce my mind,\n       How shall my heart its purpose keep.\n\n     Thy artless lays, which artless seem,\n       With too much fondness I approve;\n     Oh write no more in such a theme,\n       Or Laura's friendship ends in love.\n\nThe question, whether the man concerning whom a biographical work is\nwritten was ever in love, is an important feature in his history, if any\nlight can be thrown upon it. Perhaps some readers will hold, that the\ntameness of these verses show that, at all events, when he wrote _them_,\nHume was under the impulse of no passion. Very little more light can be\nbrought to bear on this subject; and what can be obtained, is of a like\nfaint and negative cast. He tells us in his \"own life,\" \"As I took a\nparticular pleasure in the company of modest women, I had no reason to\nbe displeased with the reception I met with from them.\" In his essays he\nfrequently discusses the passion of love, dividing it into its elements\nabout as systematically as if he had subjected it to a chemical\nanalysis, and laying down rules regarding it as distinctly and\nspecifically as if it were a system of logic. Nor do the references in\nhis correspondence to any individuals of the other sex, show any\nperceptible warmth of sentiment. In a letter to Henry Home, of which the\nother portions are printed above,[232:1] he speaks with perhaps as much\nappearance of sentiment as any where else, when he says,--\n\n\"I thank Mrs. Home for her intelligence, and have much employed my brain\nto find out the person she means. It could not be the widow: for she\ntoasts always the Duke of Argyle or Lord Stair, and never would name a\nyoung man whom she may reasonably enough suppose to be in love with her.\nI shall therefore flatter myself it was Miss Dalrymple. It is now\nExchequer term: she is among the few _very fine ladies_ of Mrs. Home's\nacquaintance, whom I have the happiness of knowing. In short, many\ncircumstances, besides my earnest wishes, concur to make me believe it\nwas she who did me that honour. I will persevere in that opinion; unless\nyou think it proper to disabuse me, for fear of my being too much puft\nup with vanity by such a conceit.\"\n\nHis friend Jardine, writing to him when he was secretary of legation in\nFrance, says, evidently in ironical reference to his notorious want of\nsensibility in this respect, \"An inordinate love of the fair sex, as I\nhave often told you, is one of those sins, that always, even from your\nearliest years, did most easily beset you.\"\n\nNor does the following passage in a letter from Mr. Crawford,[233:1]\ndated, London, 9th December, 1766, seem to convey any more serious\ncharge:--\n\n\"What keeps you in Scotland? Lord Ossory says, it can be nothing but the\nyoung beauty for whom you had formerly some passion. But we are both of\nopinion, that she must now be old and ugly, and cannot be worthy to\ndetain you in so vile a country. Neither love nor wit can flourish\nthere, otherwise you would not have cracked such bad jokes upon\nphilosophers, the best subject in the world for joking upon. Then,\n\n     --fuge nate De\u00e2--_sterili teque abstrahe terr\u00e2_.\n\nCome up here, and I know not but what I may be able to introduce you to\na young beauty, such as your imagination never figured to itself. With\ncharms and accomplishments possessed by no other woman, she has an\nunderstanding equal to that of Madame du Deffand.--Would to God she were\nblind like her too, that I might dare to avow my passion for her.\"\n\nIf there be any thing in these passages tending to show a slight degree\nof interest in the sex, their tendency will perhaps be fully neutralized\nby Hume's exultation on the fortunate nature of his own happy\nindifference, in a letter to Oswald, which will be found a few pages\nfarther on. It must be confessed, indeed, that, according to all\nappearance, the appellation, more expressive than classical, frequently\nused on such occasions, is applicable to Hume, and that he was a \"sad\nindifferent dog.\"\n\nTo return to the verses.--The following is a specimen of a totally\ndifferent cast; and, if less ambitious in its pretensions, it will\nprobably be thought to have more successfully accomplished what it aims\nat. It is called \"An Epistle to Mr. John Medina,\" a son of Sir John\nMedina, the celebrated painter, to whom, probably from the habits hinted\nat in the verses, he was a far inferior artist. He is believed to have\nbeen the painter of a large portion of the very numerous extant\nportraits of Queen Mary. It would be difficult at this day to discover\nthe individual whom he is here called upon to portray, with attributes\nabout as grotesque as those of his inexplicable countryman, Aiken Drum.\nAs several names of persons who were active supporters of the measures\nof social economy, and the agricultural improvements alluded to in the\nverses, might be adduced, but no one can be named to whom they appear\ndistinctly and exclusively to apply, it may be less invidious to present\nthem in the form of a purely imaginative picture, than to associate them\nwith any name.\n\n\nAN EPISTLE TO MR. JOHN MEDINA.\n\n     Now, dear Medina, honest John,\n     Since all your former friends are gone,\n     And even Macgibbon 's turn'd a saint,[234:1]\n     You now perhaps have time to paint.\n     For you, and for your pencil fit,\n     The subject shall be full of wit.\n\n     Draw me a little lively knight,\n     And place the figure full in sight.\n     With mien erect, and sprightly air,\n     To win the great, and catch the fair.\n     Make him a wreath of turnip tops,\n     With madder interwove, and hops;\n     Lucerne, and St. Foin, here and there,\n     Amid the foliage must appear;\n     Then add potatoes, white and red,\n     A garland for our hero's head.\n\n     His coat be of election laws,\n     Lined with the patriot's good old cause.\n     His waistcoat of the linen bill,\n     Lapelled with flint and lined with tull.\n     The turnpike act must serve for breeches;\n     With hose of rape tied up with fetches,\n     Furrows, new horse-hoed, hide his shoes,\n     As earnest cross the fields he goes.\n\n     Draw Pallas offering him a spool,\n     The Lemnian god a miner's tool.\n     Ceres three stalks of blighted corn,\n     Dangling from an inverted horn;\n     And Plutus every scheme inspiring\n     With proffer'd gold, but still retiring:\n     Alike to each important call,\n     Attentive, let him grasp at all.\n\n     Finish, my friend, this grand design,\n     And immortality be thine.\n     No more obliged, for twenty groats,\n     To draw the Duke, or Queen of Scots,\n     Your name shall rise, prophetic fame says,\n     Above your Mercis[235:1] or your Ramsays.\n     Even I, in literary story,\n     Perhaps shall have my share of glory.\n\nHume was again called away from the studious retirement of Ninewells, by\nbeing appointed secretary to the mission of his friend General St.\nClair, to the court of Turin. The real object of the mission, in\nwhatever aspect it might have been openly represented, certainly was to\nsatisfy the British court on the question, whether Sardinia, and perhaps\nsome of the other stipendiary states, had furnished their respective\nquotas of men to the war. The following letter by Hume to his friend\nOswald, details many of his feelings on assuming this new duty. It will\nbe found to be as different in tone from his previous letters, as the\nlife he was entering on was different from his hermit retirement at\nNinewells, or his slavery at Weldhall. This letter, indeed, appears to\nmark an epoch in his correspondence. It is the first in which he\nmentions miscellaneous public events, with the feeling of one who takes\nan interest in the living politics of his time; and shows that the brief\nepisode of active practical life, in which he had just borne a share,\nand the prospect of a renewal of such scenes, had opened his mind to the\nreception of external impressions.\n\n\nHUME _to_ JAMES OSWALD.\n\n\"I have little more to say to you than to bid you adieu before I leave\nthis country. I got an invitation from General St. Clair, to attend him\nin his new employment at the court of Turin, which I hope will prove an\nagreeable, if not a profitable jaunt for me. I shall have an opportunity\nof seeing courts and camps; and if I can afterwards be so happy as to\nattain leisure and other opportunities, this knowledge may even turn to\naccount to me, as a man of letters, which, I confess, has always been\nthe sole object of my ambition. I have long had an intention, in my\nriper years, of composing some history; and I question not but some\ngreater experience in the operations of the field, and the intrigues of\nthe cabinet, will be requisite, in order to enable me to speak with\njudgment upon these subjects. But, notwithstanding of these flattering\nideas of futurity, as well as the present charms of variety, I must\nconfess that I left home with infinite regret, where I had treasured up\nstores of study and plans of thinking for many years. I am sure I shall\nnot be so happy as I should have been had I prosecuted these. But, in\ncertain situations, a man dares not follow his own judgment or refuse\nsuch offers as these.\n\n\"The subscriptions for the stocks were filled up with wonderful\nquickness this year; but, as the ministry had made no private bargains\nwith stock-jobbers, but opened books for every body, these money-dealers\nhave clogged the wheels a little, and the subscribers find themselves\nlosers on the disposal of their stock, to their great surprise.\n\n\"There was a controverted election, that has made some noise, betwixt\nJohn Pitt and Mr. Drax of the Prince's family, when Mr. Pelham, finding\nhimself under a necessity of disobliging the heir-apparent, resolved to\nhave others as deep in the scrape as himself; and accordingly obliged\nFox, Pitt, Lyttelton, and Hume Campbell, all to speak on the same side.\nThey say their speeches were very diverting. An ass could not mumble a\nthistle more ridiculously than they handled this subject. Particularly\nour countryman, not being prepared, was not able to speak a word to the\nsubject, but spent half an hour in protestations of his own integrity,\ndisinterestedness, and regard to every man's right and property.\n\n\"His brother, Lord Marchmont, has had the most extraordinary adventure\nin the world. About three weeks ago he was at the play, where he espied\nin one of the boxes a fair virgin, whose looks, air, and manner, made\nsuch a powerful and wonderful effect upon him as was visible to every\nbystander. His raptures were so undisguised, his looks so expressive of\npassion, his inquiries so earnest, that every body took notice of it. He\nsoon was told that her name was Crompton, a linen-draper's daughter,\nthat had been bankrupt last year, and had not been able to pay above\nfive shillings in the pound. The fair nymph herself was about sixteen or\nseventeen, and being supported by some relations, appeared in every\npublic place, and had fatigued every eye but that of his Lordship,\nwhich, being entirely employed in the severer studies, had never till\nthat fatal moment opened upon her charms. Such and so powerful was their\neffect, as to be able to justify all the Pharamonds and Cyruses in their\nutmost extravagancies. He wrote next morning to her father, desiring\nleave to visit his daughter on honourable terms; and in a few days she\nwill be Countess of Marchmont.[238:1] All this is certainly true. They\nsay many small fevers prevent a great one. Heaven be praised that I have\nalways liked the persons and company of the fair sex! for by that means\nI hope to escape such ridiculous passions. But could you ever suspect\nthe ambitious, the severe, the bustling, the impetuous, the violent\nMarchmont, of becoming so tender and gentle a swain--an Artamenes, an\nOroondates?\n\n\"The officers, (I suppose from effeminacy,) are generally much disgusted\nat the service. They speak of no less than three hundred, high and low,\nwho have desired leave to sell out. I am,\" &c.[238:2]\n\n\"_London, January 29, 1748._\"\n\n\nOn the same occasion he writes the following short letter to Henry Home.\n\n\n\"_London, Feb. 9. 1748._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--The doubt and ambiguity with which I came hither was soon\nremoved. General St. Clair positively refused to accept of a secretary\nfrom the ministry; and I go along with him in the same station as\nbefore. Every body congratulates me upon the pleasure I am to reap from\nthis jaunt: and really I have little to oppose to this prepossession,\nexcept an inward reluctance to leave my books, and leisure and retreat.\nHowever, I am glad to find this passion still so fresh and entire; and\nam sure, by its means, to pass my latter days happily and cheerfully,\nwhatever fortune may attend me.\n\n\"I leave here two works going on: a new edition of my Essays, all of\nwhich you have seen, except one, 'Of the Protestant Succession,' where I\ntreat that subject as coolly and indifferently as I would the dispute\nbetween C\u00e6sar and Pompey. The conclusion shows me a Whig, but a very\nsceptical one. Some people would frighten me with the consequences that\nmay attend this candour, considering my present station; but I own I\ncannot apprehend any thing.\n\n\"The other work is the 'Philosophical Essays,' which you dissuaded me\nfrom printing. I won't justify the prudence of this step, any other way\nthan by expressing my indifference about all the consequences that may\nfollow. I will expect to hear from you; as you may from me. Remember me\nto Mrs. Home, and believe me to be yours most sincerely.\n\n\"P.S.--We set out on Friday next for Harwich.\"[239:1]\n\n\nOf his second appointment under General St. Clair, on the duties of\nwhich he entered at the beginning of the year 1748, Hume thus speaks in\nhis \"own life,\" after having mentioned the descent on the coast of\nFrance,--\n\n\n\"Next year, to wit, 1747, I received an invitation from the General to\nattend him in the same station in his military embassy to the courts of\nVienna and Turin. I then wore the uniform of an officer, and was\nintroduced at these courts as aid-de-camp to the General, along with Sir\nHarry Erskine and Captain Grant, now General Grant. These two years were\nalmost the only interruptions which my studies have received during the\ncourse of my life. I passed them agreeably, and in good company; and my\nappointments, with my frugality, had made me reach a fortune, which I\ncalled independent, though most of my friends were inclined to smile\nwhen I said so: in short, I was now master of near a thousand pounds.\"\n\n\nWe fortunately possess a more detailed account of his adventures and\nobservations on this occasion, in a pretty minute journal which he\ntransmitted to his brother, for the amusement of his family at\nhome.[240:1] It requires no farther introduction, and is as follows:--\n\n\n\"_Hague, 3d March, 1748, N. S._\n\n\"DEAR BROTHER,--I have taken a fancy, for your amusement, to write a\nsort of journal of our travels, and to send you the whole from Turin, by\na messenger whom we are to despatch from thence. I shall endeavour to\nfind little snatches of leisure in the several towns through which we\nshall pass, and shall give you an account of the appearances of things,\nmore than of our own adventures. The former may be some entertainment,\nbut the other will in all probability contain little diversity, at least\nfor some time.\n\n\"We set out from Harwich the day I wrote you last, and in twenty-four\nhours arrived at Helvoet-Sluys. I had the misfortune to be excessively\nsick, but the consolation to see an admiral as sick as myself. 'Twas\nAdmiral Forbes, the most agreeable, sensible sea officer in England.\nHarwich and Helvoet are the general images in abridgment of all the\ntowns in the two countries; both of them small sea-port towns, without\nmuch trade, or any support but passengers; yet the industry, economy,\nand cleanliness of the Dutch, have made the latter the much prettier\ntown. The day of our arrival we lay at Rotterdam, and passed through the\nBrill and Maeslan-Sluys. Yesterday we lay at this place. Holland has the\nbeauties of novelty to a stranger, as being so much different from all\nthe other parts of the world; but not those of diversity, for every part\nof it is like another. 'Tis an unbounded plain, divided by canals, and\nditches, and rivers. The sea higher than the country, the towns higher\nthan the sea, and the ramparts higher than the towns. The country is in\ngeneral pretty open, except a few willow trees, and the avenues of elm,\nwhich lead to their towns, and shade the ramparts. But the country is at\npresent covered with snow, so that it is difficult to judge of it. Were\nthe season favourable, the way of travelling would be very pleasant,\nbeing along the dykes, which gives you a perfect prospect of the whole\ncountry. I need not describe the beauty and elegance of the Dutch towns,\nparticularly of the Hague, which nothing can exceed. Rotterdam is also a\nhandsome town. The mixture of houses, trees, and ships, has a fine\neffect, and unites town, country, and sea, in one prospect. Every person\nand every house has the appearance of plenty and sobriety, of industry\nand ease. I own, however, that the outside of their houses are the best;\nthey are too slight, full of bad windows, and not very well contrived.\"\n\n\n\"_Hague, 10th March._\n\n\"The General intended to have left this place to-day, but was detained\nby the arrival of his Royal Highness,[242:1] which will retard him a day\nor two longer. We go first to Breda, where the General's two battalions\nlie, out of which he will endeavour to form one good healthy battalion\nto remain here. The other returns to Scotland. We go in a day or two.\nThe Prince of Orange's authority seems firmly established, and for the\npresent is as absolute as that of any king in Europe; the favour of the\npeople is the foundation of it.[242:2] He is certainly a man of great\nhumanity and moderation, but his courage and capacity is perhaps a\nlittle more doubtful. The present emergencies have given him an\nopportunity of establishing his authority on a firmer bottom than\npopular favour; viz. on foreign and mercenary forces. The Dutch troops\nhave behaved so ill, that the people themselves are willing to see them\ndisgraced, and discredited, and broke; so that the prince has been able\nto make great distinctions in favour of foreigners, with the good will\nof the people, who see the necessity of it.\n\n\"He has broke all the Dutch troops that were prisoners in France, but\nkeeps up the foreigners that were in the same condition; and the latter\nare chiefly encouraged in every thing. Great and universal joy appeared\non the birth of the young prince while we were there, though all the\narrangements were taken to have the young princess succeed, and\nparticularly, she was named colonel of a regiment of guards.\n\n\"This is a place of little or no amusement, nor has the court made much\ndifference in this respect. No balls, no comedy, no opera. The prince\ngives great application to business, which, however, they pretend does\nnot advance very much. But this we may venture to say, that Holland was\nundoubtedly ruined by its liberty, and has now a chance of being saved\nby its prince. Let republicans make the best of this example they can.\n\n\"'Tis here regarded as a point indisputable, that the old governors were\nin concert with the French, and were resolved, by delivering up town\nafter town, and army after army, to have peace, though at the price of\nslavery and dependence. 'Tis a pity that the scrupulous and\nconscientious character of the prince has not allowed him to make some\nexamples of these rascals, against whom, 'tis said, there could have\nbeen legal proofs. It was not the mob, properly speaking, that made the\nrevolution, but the middling and substantial tradesmen. At Rotterdam\nparticularly, these sent a regular deputation to the magistrates,\nrequiring the establishment of the Prince of Orange, telling them, at\nthe same time, that if their request was refused, they could no longer\nanswer for the mob. This hint was sufficiently understood, and gave an\nexample to all the other towns in the province.\n\n\"The only violence offered, was that of throwing into the canals whoever\nwore not Orange ribbons. Every yellow rag, woollen, silk, and linen,\nwere employed; and when these were exhausted, the flowers were made use\nof; and happily the revolution began in the spring, when the primroses\nand daffodillys could serve as Orange cockades. To this day, every\nboor, and tradesman, and schoolboy, wears the ensigns of the prince; and\nevery street in every village, as well as in every town, has triumphal\narches with emblematical figures and Latin inscriptions, such as,\n'Tandem justitia triumphat,' 'Novus ab integro s\u00e6clorum nascitur ordo,'\n'Vox populi, vox Dei.' I shall only say, if this last motto be true, the\nPrince of Orange is the only _Jure divino_ monarch in the universe. I\nbelieve, since the time of Germanicus, deservedly the darling of the\nRomans, never was a people so fond of one man; surely there entered not\nthe smallest intrigue of his own into his election. There is something\nof innocence and simplicity in his character, which promotes more his\npopularity than the greatest capacity. But,\n\n     Non tali auxilio, nec defensoribus istis\n     Tempus eget.\n\n\n\"_Breda, 16th March._\n\n\"We arrived here the day before yesterday, in three days from the Hague,\nand as the snows were then melted, after the most violent frost in the\nworld, we discovered Holland in all its native deformity. Nothing can be\nmore disagreeable than that heap of dirt, and mud, and ditches, and\nreeds, which they here call a country, except the silly collection of\nshells and clipped evergreens which they call a garden. It gave us a\nsensible pleasure, as we came near Breda, to find ourselves on a dry\nbarren heath, and to see something like a human habitation. I have heard\nthat a man, from the aspect of Holland, would imagine that land and\nwater, after many struggles which should be master of it, had at last\nagreed to share it betwixt them. If so, the land has come by much the\nworst bargain, and has much the smallest share of the possession. I am\ntold, however, that Holland is a pleasant enough habitation in the\nsummer: though even that beauty lasts a very short time; for, during the\nlatter end of summer and during the harvest, the canals send forth so\ndisagreeable and unwholesome a smell, that there is no enduring of it.\n\n\"We passed over the Maese at Gorcum, where it is above half a mile\nbroad; and as the ice had been softened by a thaw of three or four days,\nwe were obliged to make use of an ice boat. The operation is after this\nmanner: you place yourself on your ice boat, which is like an ordinary\nboat, except only that it runs upon two keels, shod with iron. Three or\nfour men push you along in this boat, very cleverly, as long as the ice\nwill bear you: but whenever that fails, plump down you go into the water\nof a sudden. You are very heartily frightened. The men are wet, up to\nthe neck sometimes; but, keeping hold of the boat, leap in, row you\nthrough the water, till they come to ice which can bear. There they pull\nyou up, run along with you, till you sink again; and so they renew the\nsame operation.\n\n\"At Gorcum we met with Drumlanrig's regiment, which does no great honour\nto their country by their looks and appearances. There has been a mutiny\namongst them, out of discontent to the country. We met with some\nHighlanders, who regretted extremely their native hills.\n\n\"The night we came to Breda we supped with Lord Albemarle, who told us,\nin entering, that we might soon expect to hear of a battle in the\nneighbourhood; and accordingly, in about an hour, a messenger came in\nwith the news, which is the best we have had in the Low Countries during\nthe whole war. You have no doubt heard of it. It was the attack of a\nconvoy to Bergen-op-Zoom, escorted by about 5000 French, where 400 were\nkilled, and about 1000 taken prisoners.[246:1] Next day, the prisoners\nwere led through the town. They were the piquets of several old\nregiments, and some companies of grenadiers; but such pitiful-looking\nfellows never man set eye on. France is surely much exhausted of men,\nwhen she can fill her armies with such poor wretches. We all said, when\nthey passed along, are these the people that have beat us so often?\n\n\"I stood behind Lord Albemarle, who was looking over a low window to see\nthem. One of the ragged scarecrows, seeing his lordship's star and\nribbon, turned about to him, and said very briskly, 'Aujourd'hui pour\nvous, Monsieur, demain pour le roi.' If they have all this spirit, no\nwonder they beat us. However, when one compares to the French the\nfigures of men that are in this town, British, Hessians, and Austrians,\nthey seem almost of a different species. Their officers expect they will\nall do much better after having had leisure to see their enemy. Breda is\na strong town, though not near so strong as Bergen-op-zoom. It is almost\nsurrounded by water, and inaccessible except in one place, by which it\nwill be taken, if the 206,000 men, whom we are to have in the field this\nyear, in the Low Countries, cannot save it. 'Tis certain so many men are\nstipulated by the several powers,--the greatest army that ever was\nassembled together in the world, since the Xerxeses and Artaxerxeses; if\nthese could be called armies. God prosper his royal highness, and give\nhim what he only wants; I mean good fortune, to second his prudence and\nconduct.\n\n\"The French certainly have laid their account to give up Flanders by\nthe peace; they squeeze, and oppress, and tax and abuse the Flemings so\nmuch, that 'tis evident they consider them not as subjects. They are\nalso said to be pretty heartily tired of the war, notwithstanding of\ntheir great successes. I suppose the loss of their trade pinches them;\nso that there are some hopes of a peace, which may not be altogether\nintolerable. By the conversation I have had with several judicious\nofficers, I find that Mareschal Saxe and Lowendahl, though sensible men\nand of great experience, are not regarded as such mighty generals as we\nare apt to imagine them at a distance, from their victories and\nconquests. Their blunders last campaign were many and obvious, and\nparticularly that of besieging Bergen-op-zoom. 'Twas a thousand to one\nthey got it, and it serves them to no purpose when they have it: It is\nnot by that quarter they can penetrate into the Provinces.\"\n\n\n\"_Nimeguen, 20th March._\n\n\"We have come from Breda in two days, and lay last night at Bois-le-duc,\nwhich is situated in the midst of a lake, and is absolutely impregnable.\nThat part of Brabant, through which we travelled, is not very fertile,\nand is full of sandy heaths. Nimeguen is in the Gueldre, the pleasantest\nprovince of the seven, perhaps of the seventeen. The land is beautifully\ndivided into heights and plains, and is cut by the branches of the\nRhine. Nimeguen has a very commanding prospect, and the country below it\nis particularly remarkable at present because of the innundation of the\nWahal, a branch of the Rhine, which covers the whole fields for several\nleagues; and you see nothing but the tops of trees standing up amidst\nthe waters, which recalls the idea of Egypt during the inundations of\nthe Nile. Nimeguen is a well-built town, not very strong, though\nsurrounded with a great many works. Here we met our machines, which came\nhither by a shorter road from the Hague. They are a berline for the\ngeneral and his company, and a chaise for the servants. We set out\nto-morrow, and pass by Cologne, Frankfort, and Ratisbon, till we meet\nwith the Danube, and then we sail down that river for two hundred and\nfifty miles to Vienna.\n\n\n\"_Cologne, 23d March._\n\n\"We came hither last night, and have travelled through an extreme\npleasant country along the banks of the Rhine. Particularly Cleves,\nwhich belongs to the King of Prussia, is very agreeable, because of the\nbeauty of the roads, which are avenues bordered with fine trees. The\nland in that province is not fertile, but is well cultivated. The\nbishoprick of Cologne is more fertile and adorned with fine woods as\nwell as Cleves. The country is all very populous, the houses good, and\nthe inhabitants well clothed and well fed. This is one of the largest\ncities in Europe, being near a league in diameter. The houses are all\nhigh; and there is no interval of gardens or fields. So that you would\nexpect it must be very populous. But it is not so. It is extremely\ndecayed, and is even falling to ruin. Nothing can strike one with more\nmelancholy than its appearance, where there are marks of past opulence\nand grandeur, but such present waste and decay, as if it had lately\nescaped a pestilence or famine. We are told, that it was formerly the\ncentre of all the trade of the Rhine, which has been since removed to\nHolland, Liege, Frankfort, &c. Here we see the Rhine in its natural\nstate; being only a little higher (but no broader) on account of the\nmelting of the snows. I think it is as broad as from the foot of your\nhouse to the opposite banks of the river.\"\n\n\n\"_Bonne, 24th March._\n\n\"This is about six leagues from Cologne, a pleasant well-built little\ntown, upon the banks of the Rhine, and is the seat of the archbishop. We\nhave bestowed half a day in visiting his palace, which is an extensive\nmagnificent building; and he is certainly the best lodged prince in\nEurope except the King of France. For, besides this palace, and a sort\nof Maison de Plaisance near it, (the most elegant thing in the world,)\nhe has also two country houses very magnificent. He is the late\nemperor's brother; and is, as they say, a very fine gentleman;--a man of\npleasure, very gallant and gay; he has always at his court a company of\nFrench comedians and Italian singers. And as he always keeps out of\nwars, being protected by the sacredness of his character, he has nothing\nto hope and nothing to fear; and seems to be the happiest prince in\nEurope. However, we could wish he took a little more care of his\nhigh-ways, even though his furniture, pictures, and building were a\nlittle less elegant. We are got into a country where we have no fires\nbut stoves; and no covering but feather beds; neither of which I like,\nboth of them are too warm and suffocating.\"\n\n\n\"_Coblentz, 26th March._\n\n\"We have made the pleasantest journey in the world in two days from\nBonne to this town. We travel all along the banks of the Rhine;\nsometimes in open, beautiful, well-cultivated plains; at another time\nsunk betwixt high mountains, which are only divided by the Rhine, the\nfinest river in the world. One of these mountains is always covered with\nwood to the top; the other with vines; and the mountain is so steep that\nthey are obliged to support the earth by walls, which rise one above\nanother like terraces to the length of forty or fifty stories. Every\nquarter of a mile, (indeed as often as there is any flat bottom for a\nfoundation,) you meet with a handsome village, situated in the most\nromantic manner in the world. Surely there never was such an assemblage\nof the wild and cultivated beauties in one scene. There are also several\nmagnificent convents and palaces to embellish the prospects.\n\n\"This is a very thriving well-built town, situated at the confluence of\nthe Moselle and the Rhine, and consequently very finely situated. Over\nthe former river there is a handsome stone bridge; over the latter a\nflying bridge, which is a boat fixed by a chain: this chain is fixed by\nan anchor to the bottom of the middle of the river far above, and is\nsupported by seven little boats placed at intervals that keep it along\nthe surface of the water. By means of the rudder, they turn the head of\nthe large boat to the opposite bank, and the current of the river\ncarries it over of itself. It goes over in about four minutes, and will\ncarry four or five hundred people. It stays about five or six minutes\nand then returns. Two men are sufficient to guide it, and it is\ncertainly a very pretty machine. There is the like at Cologne. This town\nis the common residence of the Archbishop of Treves, who has here a\npretty magnificent palace. We have now travelled along a great part of\nthat country, through which the Duke of Marlborough marched up his army,\nwhen he led them into Bavaria. 'Tis of this country Mr. Addison speaks\nwhen he calls the people--\n\n     Nations of slaves by Tyranny debased,\n     Their Maker's image more than half-defaced.\n\nAnd he adds that the soldiers were--\n\n     Hourly instructed as they urge their toil,\n     To prize their Queen and love their native soil.\n\n\"If any foot soldier could have more ridiculous national prejudices than\nthe poet, I should be much surprised. Be assured there is not a finer\ncountry in the world; nor are there any signs of poverty among the\npeople. But John Bull's prejudices are ridiculous, as his insolence is\nintolerable.\"\n\n\n\"_Frankfort, 28th March._\n\n\"Our road from Coblentz to this passes through a great many princes'\nterritories; Nassau's, Hesse's, Baden's, Mentz, and this Republic, &c.\nand there is as great a diversity in the nature of the country. The\nfirst part of the road from Coblentz to Weis-Baden is very mountainous\nand woody, but populous and well-cultivated. In many places the snow is\nlying very thick. The road is disagreeable for a coach; sometimes you go\nalong the side of a hill with a precipice below you, and have not an\ninch to spare; and the road hanging all the way towards the precipice,\nso that one had need to have a good head to look out of the windows.\nNassau, the prince of Orange's capital, is but a village, and one of the\nmost indifferent I have seen in Germany. Betwixt Weis-Baden and\nFrankfort we travel along the banks of the Maine, and see one of the\nfinest plains in the world. I never saw such rich soil nor better\ncultivated; all in corn and sown grass. For we have not met with any\nnatural grass in Germany.\n\n\"Frankfort is a very large town, well-built and of great riches and\ncommerce. Around it there are several little country houses of the\ncitizens, the first of that kind we have seen in Germany; for every\nbody, except the farmers, live in towns, and these dwell all in\nvillages. Whether this be for company or protection, or devotion, I\ncannot tell. But it has certainly its inconveniences. Princes have also\nseats in the country, and monks have their convents; but no private\ngentleman ever dwells there. To-morrow we pass over the field of\nDettingen. We saw Heighst [H\u00f6chst] to-day, where Lord Stair past the\nMaine, and was recalled. The post he took seems not so good as we have\nheard it represented. We saw General Mordaunt at Cologne, who was at the\nbattle of Dettingen, and gave us an exact description of the whole,\nwhich we are to-morrow to compare with the field. Frankfort is a\nProtestant town.\"\n\n\n\"_Wurtzburg, 30th March._\n\n\"The first town we come to after leaving Frankfort is Hanau, which\nbelongs to the Landgrave of Hesse, and where there is a palace, that may\nlodge any king in Europe, though the Landgrave never almost lives there.\nHanau is a very beautiful, well-built, but not large town, on the banks\nof the Maine. All the houses almost in Germany are of plaster, either\nupon brick or wood, but very neatly done, and many of them painted over,\nwhich makes them look very gay. Their peasants' houses are sometimes\nplaster, sometimes clay upon wood, two stories high, and look very well.\n\n\"Next post beyond Hanau is the village of Dettingen, where we walked out\nand surveyed the field of battle,[252:1] accompanied with the\npostmaster, who saw the battle from his windows. Good God, what an\nescape we made there! The Maine is a large river not fordable; this lay\non our left hand. On our right, high mountains covered with thick wood,\nfor several leagues. The plain is not half a mile broad. The French were\nposted by Noailles with their right supported by the river and the\nvillage of Dettingen; their left by the mountains; on their front a\nlittle rivulet, which formed some marshes and meadows altogether\nimpassable for the cavalry, and passable with difficulty by the\ninfantry. Add to this, that their cannon, played in safety on the other\nside of the Maine, raked the whole plain before Dettingen, and took our\narmy in flank. Noailles had past the bridge of Aschaffenbourg which was\nnot broke down, and came up upon our rear; and our army was starving for\nwant of provisions.\n\n\"Such an arrangement of circumstances, as it were contrived to ruin an\narmy, a king and kingdom, never was before found in the world; and yet\nthere we gained a victory, by the folly of Grammont, who past that\nrivulet, and met us in the open plain, before Noailles had come up. We\nwere travelling in great security, notwithstanding two repeated\ninformations that the French had past the Maine; the baggage of the army\nwas betwixt the two lines; and when the first cannons were fired,\nNeuperg and Stair both agreed that it could be nothing but the French\nsignal guns. But when they were certain that the affair was more in\nearnest, Stair said, 'Go to the king; I take nothing upon me.' Clayton\nsaid, 'I will take it upon me, to remove the baggage.' And it was he\nthat made the little disposition that was made that day. The English\nbehaved ill: the French worse, which gave us the victory. But this\nvictory so unexpectedly gained, we pushed not as we ought, by the\ncounsel of Neuperg. What Lord Stair's whim was to advance to\nAschaffenbourg, where he was twenty-five miles from Frankfort, the place\nof all his magazines, 'tis impossible to imagine. Surely he could\nadvance no farther, as he must have been convinced had he reconnoitred\nthe road. It runs over high mountains, and for twenty-five miles through\nthe thickest woods in the world.\n\n\"There is a pass three or four miles beyond Aschaffenbourg, where no\narmy could go with cannon and baggage. When we[254:1] came to the foot\nof it a trumpeter met us, who played a tune for joy of our safe arrival;\nand the like on our ascending the opposite hill. The woods beyond are\nthe finest I ever saw. Wurtzburg is a very well-built town, situated in\na fine valley on the Maine. The banks of the river are very high, and\ncovered with vines. The river runs through the town, and is passed on a\nvery handsome bridge. But what renders this town chiefly remarkable, is\na building which surprised us all, because we had never before heard of\nit, and did not there expect to meet with such a thing. 'Tis a\nprodigious magnificent palace of the bishop who is the sovereign. 'Tis\nall of hewn stone and of the richest architecture. I do think the king\nof France has not such a house. If it be less than Versailles, 'tis more\ncomplete and finished. What a surprising thing it is, that these petty\nprinces can build such palaces: but it has been fifty years a rearing;\nand 'tis the chief expense of ecclesiastics. The bishop of Wurtzburg is\nchosen from amongst the canons, who have a very good artifice to\nexclude princes. 'Tis a rule, that every one at entering shall receive a\nvery hearty drubbing from the rest: the brother of the elector of\nBavaria offered a million of florins, to be exempted from the ceremony,\nand could not prevail.\"\n\n\n\"_Ratisbon, 2d April._\n\n\"We were all very much taken with the town of Nuremberg, where we lay\ntwo nights ago; the houses, though old-fashioned, and of a grotesque\nfigure, (having sometimes five or six stories of garrets,) yet are they\nsolid, well built, complete, and cleanly. The people are handsome, well\nclothed, and well fed; an air of industry and contentment, without\nsplendour, prevails through the whole. 'Tis a Protestant republic on the\nbanks of a river, (whose name I have forgot,[255:1]) that runs into the\nMaine, and is navigable for boats. The town is of a large extent. On\nleaving Nuremberg we entered into the elector of Bavaria's country,\nwhere the contrast appeared very strong with the inhabitants of the\nformer republic. There was a great air of poverty in every face; the\nfirst poverty indeed we had seen in Germany. We travelled also through\npart of the elector Palatine's country, and then returned to Bavaria;\nbut though the country be good and well cultivated, and populous, the\ninhabitants are not at their ease. The late miserable wars have no doubt\nhurt them much. Ratisbon is a catholic republic situated on the banks of\nthe Danube. The houses and buildings, and aspect of the people, are well\nenough, though not comparable to those of Nuremberg. 'Tis pretended that\nthe difference is always sensible betwixt a Protestant and Catholic\ncountry, throughout all Germany; and perhaps there may be something in\nthis observation, though it is not every where sensible.\n\n\"We descend the Danube from this to Vienna; we go in a large boat about\neighty foot long, where we have three rooms, one for ourselves, a second\nfor the servants, and a third for our kitchen. 'Tis made entirely of fir\nboards, and is pulled to pieces at Vienna, the wood sold, and the\nwatermen return to Ratisbon a-foot. We lie on shore every night. We are\nall glad of this variety, being a little tired of our berline.\"\n\n\n\"_The Danube, 7th of April._\n\n\"We have really made a very pleasant journey, or rather voyage, with\ngood weather, sitting at our ease, and having a variety of scenes\ncontinually presented to us, and immediately shifted, as it were in an\nopera. The banks of the Danube are very wild and savage, and have a very\ndifferent beauty from those of the Rhine; being commonly high scraggy\nprecipices, covered all with firs. The water is sometimes so straitened\nbetwixt these mountains, that this immense river is often not sixty foot\nbroad. We have lain in and seen several very good towns in Bavaria and\nAustria, such as Strauburg, Passau, Lintz; but what is most remarkable\nis the great magnificence of some convents, particularly Moelk, where a\nset of lazy rascals of monks live in the most splendid misery of the\nworld; for, generally speaking, their lives are as little to be envied\nas their persons are to be esteemed.\n\n\"We enter Vienna in a few hours, and the country is here extremely\nagreeable; the fine plains of the Danube began about thirty miles above,\nand continued down, through Austria, Hungary, &c. till it falls into\nthe Black Sea. The river is very magnificent. Thus we have finished a\nvery agreeable journey of 860 miles (for so far is Vienna from the\nHague,) have past through many a prince's territories, and have had more\nmasters than many of these princes have subjects. Germany is undoubtedly\na very fine country, full of industrious honest people; and were it\nunited, it would be the greatest power that ever was in the world. The\ncommon people are here, almost every where, much better treated, and\nmore at their ease, than in France; and are not very much inferior to\nthe English, notwithstanding all the airs the latter give themselves.\nThere are great advantages in travelling, and nothing serves more to\nremove prejudices; for I confess I had entertained no such advantageous\nidea of Germany; and it gives a man of humanity pleasure to see that so\nconsiderable a part of mankind as the Germans are in so tolerable a\ncondition.\"\n\n\n\"_Vienna, 15th April._\n\n\"The last week was Easter week, and every body was at their devotions,\nso that we saw not the court nor the emperor and empress, till\nyesterday, when we were all introduced by Sir Thomas Robinson.[257:1]\nThey are a well-looked couple, the emperor has a great air of goodness,\nand his royal consort of spirit. Her voice, and manner, and address are\nthe most agreeable that can be, and she made us several compliments on\nour nation. She is not a beauty; but, being a sovereign, and a woman of\nsense and spirit, no wonder she has met such extraordinary support from\nher subjects, as well as from some other nations of Europe. However, the\nEnglish gallantry towards her is a little relaxed; and the King of\nSardinia is their present favourite. She begged of the general not to be\nso much her enemy as his predecessor, General Wentworth, had been. He\nreplied, that a perfect impartiality was recommended him by the king,\nhis master; and that he was resolved to preserve it, though he confessed\nthat was difficult for a person who had had the honour of having had\naccess to her imperial majesty.\n\n\"We were introduced to-day to the archdukes and archduchesses (who are\nfine children) and to the empress-dowager. She had seen no company for\ntwo months; but, hearing that Englishmen desired to be introduced to\nher, she immediately received us. You must know that you neither bow\nnor kneel to emperors and empresses, but curtsy; so that, after we had\nhad a little conversation with her imperial majesty, we were to walk\nbackwards through a very long room, curtsying all the way, and there was\nvery great danger of our falling foul of each other, as well as of\ntumbling topsy-turvy. She saw the difficulty we were in; and immediately\ncalled to us: 'Allez, allez, Messieurs, sans c\u00e9r\u00e9monie; vous n'\u00eates pas\naccoutum\u00e9s a ce mouvement, et le plancher est glissant.' We esteemed\nourselves very much obliged to her for this attention, especially my\ncompanions, who were desperately afraid of my falling on them and\ncrushing them.\n\n\"This court is fine, without being gay; and the company is very\naccessible, without being very sociable. When we were to be introduced\nto the emperor and empress, Sir Thomas Robinson gathered us all together\ninto a window, that he might be able to carry us to them at once, when\nthe time should be proper. A lady came up to him, and asked him if these\nwere not his chickens he was gathering under his wings, after which she\njoined conversation with us; and in a little time asked us, if we had\nany acquaintance of the ladies of the court, and if we should not be\nglad to know their names. We replied that she could not do us a greater\nfavour. 'Why, then,' says she, 'I shall tell you, beginning with myself;\nI am the Countess'--she added her name, which I am sorry to have forgot.\nWe have met with several instances of these agreeable liberties. The\nwomen here are many of them handsome; if you ever want toasts, please to\nname, upon my authority, Mademoiselle Staremberg, or the Countess Palf\u00ec.\n\n\"The men are ugly and awkward. We have seen all those fierce heroes,\nwhom we have so often read of in gazettes, the Lichtensteins, the\nEsterhasis, the Colloredos; most of them have red heels to their shoes,\nand wear very well-dressed toupees.\n\n\"I have heard Maly Johnston say she was told that she was very like the\nempress-queen. Please tell her it is not so. The empress, though not\nvery well shaped, is better than Maly; but she has not so good a face.\nShe looks also as if she were prouder and worse tempered. Apropos, to\nour friends of Hutton hall, inform them that they have a very near\nrelation at this court, who is a prodigious fine gentleman, and a great\nfool. His name is Sir James Caldwell.[260:1] He told me his grandmother\nwas a Hume, and that he expected soon to inherit a very fine estate by\nher, which he was to share with the Johnstones in Scotland. But he says\nit is only Wynne that has the half, not the ladies, who have no share;\nso that you'll please tell Sophy that I am off; and give her her\nliberty, notwithstanding all vows and promises that may have past\nbetwixt us.\"\n\n\n\"_Vienna, 25th April._\n\n\"We set out to-morrow, but go not by the way of Venice, as we at first\nproposed. This is some mortification to us. We shall go, however, by\nMilan. This town is very little for a capital, but excessively populous.\nThe houses are very high, the streets very narrow and crooked, so that\nthe many handsome buildings that are here, make not any figure. The\nsuburbs are spacious and open; but, on the whole, I can never believe\nwhat they tell us, that there are two hundred thousand inhabitants in\nit. It is composed entirely of nobility and of lackeys, of soldiers and\nof priests. Now, I believe you'll allow, that in a town inhabited only\nby these four sets of people above-mentioned, the empress-queen could\nnot have undertaken a more difficult task, than that which she has\nmagnanimously entered upon, viz. the producing an absolute chastity\namongst them. A court of chastity is lately erected here, who send all\nloose women to the frontiers of Hungary, where they can only debauch\nTurks and Infidels. I hope you will not pay your taxes with greater\ngrudge, because you hear that her imperial majesty, in whose service\nthey are to be spent, is so great a prude.\n\n\"There has been great noise made with us on account of the queen's new\npalace at Sch\u00f6nbrunn. It is, indeed, a handsome house, but not very\ngreat nor richly furnished. She said to the general last night, that not\na single soldier had gone to the building, whatever might be said in\nEngland, but that she liked better to be tolerably lodged than to have\nuseless diamonds by her; and that she had sold all her crown jewels to\nenable her to be at that expense. I think, for a sovereign, she is none\nof the worst in Europe, and one cannot forbear liking her for the spirit\nwith which she looks, and speaks, and acts. But 'tis a pity her\nministers have so little sense.\n\n\"Prince Eugene's palace in the suburbs is an expensive stately building,\nbut of a very barbarous Gothic taste. He was _more skilled in battering\nwalls than building_, as was said of his friend, the Duke of\nMarlborough. There is a room in it, where all Prince Eugene's battles\nwere painted: upon which the Portuguese ambassador told him, that the\nwhole house was indeed richly furnished, but that all the kings in\nEurope could not furnish such a room as that. I have been pretty busy\nsince I came here, and have regretted it the less that there is no very\ngreat amusement in this place. No Italian opera; no French comedy; no\ndancing. I have, however, heard Monticelli, who is the next wonder of\nthe world to Farinelli.\"\n\n\n\"_Knittelfeldt in Styria, 28th April._\n\n\"This is about a hundred and twenty miles from Vienna. The first forty\nis a fine well-cultivated plain, after which we enter the mountains;\nand, as we are told, we have three hundred miles more of them before we\nreach the plains of Lombardy. The way of travelling through a\nmountainous country is generally very agreeable. We are obliged to trace\nthe course of the rivers, and are always in a pretty valley surrounded\nby high hills; and have a constant and very quick succession of wild\nagreeable prospects every quarter of a mile. Through Styria nothing can\nbe more curious than the scenes. In the valleys, which are fertile and\nfinely cultivated, there is at present a full bloom of spring. The hills\nto a certain height are covered with firs and larch trees, the tops are\nall shining with snow. You may see a tree white with blossom, and, fifty\nfathom farther up, the ground white with snow. These hills, as you may\nimagine, give a great command of water to the valleys, which the\nindustrious inhabitants distribute into every field, and render the\nwhole very fertile. There are many iron mines in the country, and the\nvalleys are upon that account extremely populous. But as much as the\ncountry is agreeable in its wildness, as much are the inhabitants\nsavage, and deformed, and monstrous in their appearance. Very many of\nthem have ugly swelled throats; idiots and deaf people swarm in every\nvillage; and the general aspect of the people is the most shocking I\never saw. One would think, that as this was the great road, through\nwhich all the barbarous nations made their irruptions into the Roman\nempire, they always left here the refuse of their armies before they\nentered into the enemy's country, and that from thence the present\ninhabitants are descended. Their dress is scarce European, as their\nfigure is scarce human.\n\n\"There happened, however, a thing to-day, which surprised us all. The\nempress-queen, regarding this country as a little barbarous, has sent\nsome missionaries of Jesuits to instruct them. They had sermons to-day\nin the street, under our windows, attended with psalms; and believe me,\nnothing could be more harmonious, better tuned, or more agreeable than\nthe voices of these savages; and the chorus of a French opera does not\nsing in better time. You may infer from thence, if you please, that\nOrpheus did not civilize the savage nations by his music. I know not\nwhat progress the Jesuits have made by their eloquence; but it appears\nto me that religion is not the point in which the Styrians are\ndefective, at least if we may judge by the number of their churches,\ncrucifixes, &c. We shall be detained here some days by Sir Harry\nErskine's illness, who is seized with an ague.\"\n\n\n\"_Clagenfurt in Carinthia, May 4._\n\n\"This is a mighty pretty little town, near the Drave. It is the capital\nof the province, and stands in a tolerable large plain, surrounded with\nvery high hills; and on the other side the Drave we see the savage\nMountains of Carniola. You know the Alps join with the Pyrenees, these\nwith the Alps,[264:1] and run all along the north of Turkey in Europe to\nthe Black Sea, and form the longest chain of mountains in the universe.\n\n\"The figure of the Carinthians is not much better than that of the\nStyrians.\"\n\n\n\"_Trent, 8th of May._\n\n\"We are still amongst mountains, and follow the tract of rivers in order\nto find our way. But the aspect of the people is wonderfully changed on\nentering the Tyrol. The inhabitants are there as remarkably beautiful as\nthe Styrians are ugly. An air of humanity, and spirit, and health, and\nplenty, is seen in every face. Yet their country is wilder than Styria,\nthe hills higher, and the valleys narrower and more barren. They are\nboth Germans, subject to the house of Austria; so that it would puzzle a\nnaturalist or politician to find the reason of so great and remarkable a\ndifference. We traced up the Drave to its source: (that river, you know,\nfalls into the Danube, and into the Black Sea.) It ended in a small\nrivulet, and that in a ditch, and then in a little bog. On the top of\nthe hill (though there was there a well cultivated plain) there was no\nmore appearance of spring than at Christmas. In about half a mile after\nwe had seen the Drave extinguish, we observed a little stripe of water\nto move. This was the beginning of the Adige, and the rivers that run\ninto the Adriatic. We were now turning toward the south part of the\nhill, and descended with great rapidity. Our little brook in three or\nfour miles became a considerable river, and every hour's travelling\nshowed us a new aspect of spring; so that in one day we passed through\nall the gradations of that beautiful season, as we descended lower into\nthe valleys, from its first faint dawn till its full bloom and glory. We\nare here in Italy; at least the common language of the people is\nItalian. This town is not remarkable neither for size nor beauty. 'Tis\nonly famous for that wise assembly of philosophers and divines, who\nestablished such rational tenets for the belief of mankind.\"\n\n\n\"_Mantua, 11th of May._\n\n\"We are now in classic ground; and I have kissed the earth that produced\nVirgil, and have admired those fertile plains that he has so finely\ncelebrated.\n\n     Perdidit aut quales felices Mantua campos.[265:1]\n\n\"You are tired, and so am I, with the descriptions of countries; and\ntherefore shall only say, that nothing can be more singularly beautiful\nthan the plains of Lombardy, nor more beggarly and miserable than this\ntown.\"\n\n\n\"_Cremona, 12th of May._\n\n\"Alas, poor Italy!\n\n     Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit;\n     Barbarus has segetes?\n\n                         The poor inhabitant\n     Starves, in the midst of Nature's plenty curst;\n     And in the loaded vineyard dies for thirst.\n\n\"The taxes are here exorbitant beyond all bounds. We lie to-morrow at\nMilan.\"\n\n\n\"_Turin, June 16th, 1748._\n\n\"I wrote you about three weeks ago. This is brought into England by Mr.\nBathurst, a nephew of Lord Bathurst, who intended to serve a campaign in\nour family. We know nothing as yet of the time of our return. But I\nbelieve we shall make the tour of Italy and France before we come home.\n'Tis thought the general will be sent as public minister to settle Don\nPhilip; so that we shall have seen a great variety of Dutch, German,\nItalian, Spanish, and French courts in this jaunt.\n\n     Qui mores hominum multorum vidit, et urbes.\n\n\"I say nothing of Milan, or Turin, or Piedmont: because I shall have\ntime enough to entertain you with accounts of all these. Though you may\nbe little diverted with this long epistle, you ought at least to thank\nme for the pains I have taken in composing it. I have not yet got my\nbaggage.\"\n\nFar different was the pomp and circumstance in which the writer of this\nnarrative performed his journey, from the condition in which Goldsmith,\nfour years afterwards, pursued nearly the same route to--\n\n           ----where the rude Carinthian boor\n     Against the houseless stranger shuts the door.\n\nAnd Hume's motions seem to have partaken of the pomp and regularity of\nhis official station; for, even in these familiar letters to his\nbrother, he is all along the secretary of legation; or when he descends\nfrom that height, it is but to mount the chair of the scholar and\nphilosopher. There are no escapades. We never hear that he has taken it\nin his head to diverge from the regular route to see an old castle or a\nwaterfall. Yet he went with an eye for scenery. The Alpine passes\nexcited his admiration, and his description of the banks of the Rhine\nwill be recognised at this day as very accurate--with one material\nexception. He says nothing of the feudal fortresses perched like the\nnests of birds of prey, to which their moral resemblance was at least as\nclose as their physical; and thus one of the greatest historians of his\nage, passes through a country without appearing to have noticed in their\ntrue character, this series of prominent marks of a remarkable chapter\nin the history of Europe. He speaks of them simply as \"palaces\"--a word\nnot designative of the character of the buildings, or in any way\nevincing that their historical position had occurred to his mind. But it\nmust be admitted, that later tourists on the Rhine have amply made up\nfor his silence on these matters.\n\nHe does not condescend to mention any one of the fine specimens of\nGothic architecture which he must have seen--not even that vast and\nbeautiful fragment the cathedral of Cologne. One wonders whether or not\nhe was at the trouble of inquiring, what was that huge mass which he\nmust have seen towering over the city; and if, straying within its\ngates, and looking on Albert Durer's painted windows, he had curiosity\nenough to inspect the reliquary of the tomb of the three kings,\ncontaining gems so ancient, that they are conjectured to be older than\nChristianity, and to have been the ornaments of some Pagan shrine,\ntransferred to and historically associated with the pure creed which\ndisplaced the barbarous rites of Paganism. This might have at least\nformed a curious topic for his Natural History of Religion. But on this\nas on many other subjects, he would sympathize with La Bruyere when he\nspeaks of \"L'ordre Gothique, que la barbarie avoit introduit pour les\npalais et pour les temples;\" and his thorough neglect of both the\nbaronial and ecclesiastical architecture of the middle ages, is\ncharacteristic of a mind which could find nothing worthy of admiration,\nin the time which elapsed between the extinction of ancient classical\nliterature, and the rise of the arts and sciences in modern Europe.\n\nBut upon scarcely any subject does Hume converse as a brother travelling\ninto foreign lands might be supposed to address a brother residing at\nhome, and cultivating his ancestral acres. We should expect to find him\nobserving that this river is like the Tweed, or unlike it--larger or\nsmaller; or comparing some range of hills with the Cheviots: but he is\ngeneral and undomestic in all his remarks, save the one observation that\nthe Rhine is as broad as from his brother's house to the opposite side\nof the river.\n\nUntil he comes to the land of Virgil, where he shows real enthusiasm,\nthe chief object of his interest and observation appears to have been\nthe warlike operations in the midst of which he found himself. The\nmission must have been attended with the ordinary dangers of a military\nenterprise. It was undertaken at a time when all Europe was at war, and\nthough decisive battles were not taking place, petty conflicts and\nsurprises were of perpetual occurrence until the treaty of\nAix-la-Chapelle, a few months afterwards, restored repose to the\nexhausted nations. Yet we find no symptoms of anxiety in the mind of the\nphilosophical actor of the military character. His tone is generally\nthat of a private traveller in a peaceful country, rather than that of a\nmember of an expedition armed for defence, and likely to be called on to\ndefend itself. When he mentions warlike operations, he adopts the tone\nof a historical critic, and never that of a person who may find his\npersonal safety or comfort compromised by them.\n\nThough he seems to have set out with the too general notion that\nmilitary affairs are the main object of attention to the man who is\ndesirous of distinction in historical literature, we find already\ndawning on him the historian's nobler duty as a delineator of the state\nof society, and an inquirer into the causes of the happiness or misery\nof the people. And his observations are made with a wide and generous\nbenevolence, strikingly at contrast with those prevailing doctrines of\nhis day, which sought, in the success and happiness of one country, the\nelements of the misery of another, and made the good fortune of our\nneighbours a source of lamentation, as indicating calamity to ourselves.\nHis unaffected declaration of pleasure, in finding the Germans so happy\nand comfortable a people, marks a heart full of genuine kindness and\nbenevolence, and will more than atone for the want of a disposition to\nrange through alpine scenery, or a taste to appreciate the beauties of\nGothic architecture.\n\nIt will be seen that Hume had intended to continue his journal, but no\nfarther trace of it has been found. The results of the mission have not\nbeen generally noticed by historians. Its objects were of a subordinate\nnature, and the occasion for attending to them was obviated by the\ncompletion of the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle on 7th October.\n\nMeanwhile, of Hume's residence in Turin, we have some notices by an able\nobserver, Lord Charlemont, the celebrated Irish political leader, who,\nthen in his twentieth year, was following the practice of the higher\naristocracy of his age, and endeavouring to enlarge his mind by foreign\ntravel. In the following probably exaggerated description it will be\nseen that he was far mistaken in his estimate of Hume's age.\n\n\"With this extraordinary man I was intimately acquainted. He had kindly\ndistinguished me from among a number of young men, who were then at the\nacademy, and appeared so warmly attached to me, that it was apparent he\nnot only intended to honour me with his friendship, but to bestow on me\nwhat was, in his opinion, the first of all favours and benefits, by\nmaking me his convert and disciple.\n\n\"Nature, I believe, never formed any man more unlike his real character\nthan David Hume. The powers of physiognomy were baffled by his\ncountenance; neither could the most skilful in that science, pretend to\ndiscover the smallest trace of the faculties of his mind, in the\nunmeaning features of his visage. His face was broad and fat, his mouth\nwide, and without any other expression than that of imbecility. His eyes\nvacant and spiritless, and the corpulence of his whole person, was far\nbetter fitted to communicate the idea of a turtle-eating alderman, than\nof a refined philosopher. His speech in English was rendered ridiculous\nby the broadest Scotch accent, and his French was, if possible, still\nmore laughable; so that wisdom most certainly never disguised herself\nbefore in so uncouth a garb. Though now near fifty years old, he was\nhealthy and strong; but his health and strength, far from being\nadvantageous to his figure, instead of manly comeliness, had only the\nappearance of rusticity. His wearing an uniform added greatly to his\nnatural awkwardness, for he wore it like a grocer of the trained bands.\nSinclair was a lieutenant-general, and was sent to the courts of Vienna\nand Turin, as a military envoy, to see that their quota of troops was\nfurnished by the Austrians and Piedmontese. It was therefore thought\nnecessary that his secretary should appear to be an officer, and Hume\nwas accordingly disguised in scarlet.\"[271:1]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[225:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[226:1] Obliterated.\n\n[227:1] Letter to Mr. Morritt, dated Abbotsford, 2d October, 1815.\nLockhart's Life. The letter continues: \"Would it not be a good quiz to\nadvertise _The Poetical Works of David Hume_, with notes, critical,\nhistorical, and so forth, with a historical inquiry into the use of eggs\nfor breakfast; a physical discussion on the causes of their being\naddled; a history of the English Church music, and of the choir of\nCarlisle in particular; a full account of the affair of 1745, with the\ntrials, last speeches, and so forth, of the poor _plaids_ who were\nstrapped up at Carlisle; and lastly, a full and particular description\nof Corby, with the genealogy of every family who ever possessed it? I\nthink, even without more than the usual waste of margin, the poems of\nDavid would make a decent twelve shilling touch.\"\n\n[227:2] For instance, there is preserved in his handwriting a very neat\ntranscript of the sweet and sad \"Ode to Indifference,\" by Mrs. Greville,\ncopied, probably at a time when something in its tone of plaintive\nimagination was attuned to his own feelings, and called up in him a\nresponse to the complaint.\n\n     Nor ease nor peace that heart can know,\n       That, like the needle true,\n     Turns at the touch of joy or wo,\n       But turning trembles too.\n\nAnd a desire to join in that prayer that the senses may be steeped in\nindifference, in which the poet says,\n\n     The tears which pity taught to flow,\n       My eyes shall then disown,\n     The heart, that throbb'd at others' wo,\n       Shall then scarce feel its own.\n\n     The wounds that now each moment bleed,\n       Each moment then shall close,\n     And tranquil days shall still succeed,\n       To nights of soft repose.\n\n     Oh fairy elf, but grant me this--\n       This one kind comfort send;\n     And so may never-fading bliss\n       Thy flowery paths attend.\n\n     So may the glow-worm's glimmering light\n       Thy fairy footsteps lead\n     To some new region of delight,\n       Unknown to mortal tread.\n\n     And be thy acorn goblet fill'd\n       With heaven's ambrosial dew;\n     Sweetest, freshest flowers distill'd,\n       That shed fresh sweets for you.\n\n     And what of life remains for me,\n       I'll pass in sober ease--\n     Half-pleased, contented will I be,\n       Content--but half to please.\n\n[228:1] MSS. R.S.E. The third piece _appears_ to be in Hume's hand; but\nit is written with so much schoolboy stiffness, that one cannot feel\nsure of its being so: perhaps it may be a production of very early life.\n\n[232:1] See p. 144.\n\n[233:1] MS. R.S.E. Probably James Crawford of Auchinames.\n\n[234:1] Macgibbon was the name of a dissipated musical composer.\n\n[235:1] Probably Philip Mercier, portrait painter, who died 1760.\n\n[238:1] The marriage took place accordingly on the day following the\ndate of the letter, viz. 30th January. She was the second wife of Lord\nMarchmont; his first countess, whose name was Western, having died on\n9th May of the previous year.\n\n[238:2] Memorials of the Right Hon. James Oswald, p. 59.\n\n[239:1] Tytler's Life of Kames, i. 128.\n\n[240:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[242:1] The Duke of Cumberland.\n\n[242:2] The revolution by which the Stadtholdership was re-established\nin the Prince of Orange, had taken place during the previous year.\n\n[246:1] The French, under Lowendahl, had taken Bergen by storm on the\n5th September, 1747.\n\n[252:1] This celebrated battle took place nearly five years before\nHume's visit to the field. It was fought on 26th June, 1743.\n\n[254:1] The \"we,\" must now be held no more to apply to our army, as it\nhas heretofore done, in reference to the battle, but to General St.\nClair's party.\n\n[255:1] The Pegnitz.\n\n[257:1] Sir Thomas Robinson, whose name has dropped out of recollection\nin the ordinary biographical dictionaries, but is still familiar to the\nreaders of the history of the period, was for some time ambassador at\nVienna, and was plenipotentiary from Britain at the treaty of Aix La\nChapelle in 1748. In 1754 he became secretary of state for a few months.\nIn 1761 he was raised to the peerage by the title of Baron Grantham.\n\"Sir Thomas,\" says Walpole, \"had been bred in German courts, and was\nrather restored than naturalized to the genius of that country; he had\nGerman honour, loved German politics, and could explain himself as\nlittle as if he spoke only German.\"--Memoires of George III. 337.\nAccording to the same authority, he was subjected, on account of his\nname, to an identification with Robinson Crusoe, something like that\nwith which Madame Talleyrand honoured Denon, owing to the accident of\nhis being a great traveller whose name ended in \"on.\"\n\nSir T. Robinson was a tall uncouth man, and his stature was often\nrendered still more remarkable by his hunting dress, a postilion's cap,\na tight green jacket, and buckskin breeches. He was liable to sudden\nwhims; and once set off on a sudden, in his hunting suit, to visit his\nsister, who was married and settled at Paris. He arrived while there was\na large company at dinner. The servant announced Mr. Robinson, and he\ncame in, to the great amazement of the guests. Among others a French\nabb\u00e9 thrice lifted his fork to his mouth, and thrice laid it down, with\nan eager stare of surprise. Unable to restrain his curiosity any longer,\nhe burst out with, \"Excuse me, sir; are you the famous Robinson Crusoe\nso remarkable in history.\"--Walpoliana.\n\n[260:1] An Irish baronet, grandson of Sir James Caldwell who was created\na baronet in 1683, and distinguished himself in the service of William\nIII. during the Irish revolutionary wars. The person commemorated in so\nflattering a manner by Hume, rose to considerable rank in the service of\nthe empress, and was enabled to introduce to that service a brother, who\nobtained in it far more distinction, and who, in connexion with the\nrelationship mentioned above, was called Hume Caldwell. He seems to have\nbeen strongly endowed with the mercurial disposition of his countrymen.\nOn his first introduction to the service, he \"took expensive lodgings,\nkept a chariot, a running footman, and a hussar, and was admitted into\nthe highest circles;\" the natural result of which was, that, on\npreparing to join his regiment, when he paid his debts, he found that he\nhad just two gold ducats left; whereupon, as his biographer pathetically\nnarrates, \"the companion of princes, the friend of Count Conigsegg, the\npossessor of a splendid hotel and a gilt chariot, who had kept a hussar\nand an opera girl, figured at court, and had an audience of the empress,\nand was possessed of a letter of credit for \u00a31000, set out from Vienna\nalone, on foot, in a mean habit, and with an empty pocket, for that army\nin which he was to rise by his merit to a distinguished command.\" His\nsubsequent history is a little romance. Mr. Hume Caldwell, being lost\nsight of by the great world, is searched for hither and thither, and at\nlength an Irish private soldier being questioned about the matter, turns\nout to be Caldwell himself, who is immediately restored to his proper\nstation.--Ryan's Worthies of Ireland.\n\n[264:1] Sic in MS. Perhaps he meant to allude to the junction with the\nCarpathians through the Bohemian ranges.\n\n[265:1] Et qualem infelix amisit Mantua campum. Georg. ii. 198?\n\n[271:1] Memoirs of the Political and Private Life of James Caulfield,\nEarl of Charlemont, by Francis Hardy, p. 8.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n1748-1751. \u00c6T. 37-40.\n\n     Publication of the \"Inquiry concerning Human Understanding\"--\n     Nature of that Work--Doctrine of Necessity--Observations on\n     Miracles--New Edition of the \"Essays, Moral and Political\"--\n     Reception of the new Publications--Return Home--His Mother's\n     Death--Her Talents and Character--Correspondence with Dr.\n     Clephane--Earthquakes--Correspondence with Montesquieu--\n     Practical jokes in connexion with the Westminster Election--\n     John Home--The Bellman's Petition.\n\n\nEarly in the year 1748, and while he was on his way to Turin, Hume's\n\"Philosophical Essays concerning Human Understanding,\"[272:1] which he\nafterwards styled \"Inquiry concerning Human Understanding,\" were\npublished anonymously in London. The preparation of this work had\nprobably afforded him a much larger share of genuine pleasure, than\neither the excitement of travelling, or the observation of the natural\nscenery, the works of art, and the men and manners among which he moved.\nIn the tone of a true philosophical enthusiast, he says in the first\nsection of the work, \"Were there no advantage to be reaped from these\nstudies beyond the gratification of an innocent curiosity, yet ought not\neven this to be despised, as being an accession to those few safe and\nharmless pleasures which are bestowed on the human race. The sweetest\nand most inoffensive path of life leads through the avenues of science\nand learning; and whoever can either remove any obstructions in this\nway, or open up any new prospect, ought so far to be esteemed a\nbenefactor to mankind. And though these researches may appear painful\nand fatiguing, it is with some minds as with some bodies, which being\nendowed with vigorous and florid health, require severe exercise, and\nreap a pleasure from what, to the generality of mankind, may seem\nburdensome and laborious.\"\n\nOn the publication of this work, he says in his \"own life,\"--\"I had\nalways entertained a notion, that my want of success in publishing the\n'Treatise of Human Nature,' had proceeded more from the manner than the\nmatter, and that I had been guilty of a very usual indiscretion, in\ngoing to the press too early. I, therefore, cast the first part of that\nwork anew in the 'Inquiry concerning Human Understanding,' which was\npublished while I was at Turin. But this piece was at first little more\nsuccessful than the 'Treatise of Human Nature.' On my return from Italy,\nI had the mortification to find all England in a ferment, on account of\nDr. Middleton's 'Free Inquiry,'[273:1] while my performance was entirely\noverlooked and neglected.\"\n\nHe now desired that the \"Treatise of Human Nature\" should be treated as\na work blotted out of literature, and that the \"Inquiry\" should be\nsubstituted in its place. In the subsequent editions of the latter work,\nhe complained that this had not been complied with; that the world still\nlooked at those forbidden volumes of which he had dictated the\nsuppression. \"Henceforth,\" he says, \"the author desires that the\nfollowing pieces may alone be regarded as containing his philosophical\nprinciples and sentiments;\" and he became eloquent on the uncandidness\nof bringing before the world as the sentiments of any author, a work\nwritten almost in boyhood, and printed at the threshold of manhood. But\nit was all in vain: he had to learn that the world takes possession of\nall that has passed through the gates of the printing press, and that\nneither the command of despotic authority, nor the solicitations of\nrepentant authorship can reclaim it, if it be matter of sterling value.\nThe bold and original speculations of the \"Treatise\" have been, and to\nall appearance ever will be, part of the intellectual property of man;\ngreat theories have been built upon them, which must be thrown down\nbefore we can raze the foundation. That he repented of having published\nthe work, and desired to retract its extreme doctrines, is part of the\nmental biography of Hume; but it is impossible, at his command, to\ndetach this book from general literature, or to read it without\nremembering who was its author.\n\nBut, indeed, there were pretty cogent reasons why the philosophical\nworld, and Hume's opponents in particular, should not lose sight of his\nearly work. In the Inquiry, he did not revoke the fundamental doctrines\nof his first work. The elements of all thought and knowledge he still\nfound to be in impressions and ideas. But he did not on this occasion\ncarry out his principles with the same reckless hardihood that had\ndistinguished the Treatise; and thus he neither on the one side gave so\ndistinct and striking a view of his system, nor on the other afforded so\nstrong a hold to his adversaries. This hold they were resolved not to\nlose; and therefore they retained the original bond, and would not\naccept of the offered substitute.\n\nOf those views which are more fully developed in the Inquiry than in the\nearly work, one of the most important is the attempt to establish the\ndoctrine of necessity, and to refute that of free will in relation to\nthe springs of human action. To those who adopted the vulgar notion of\nHume's theory of cause and effect, that it left the phenomena of nature\nwithout a ruling principle, the attempt to show that the human mind was\nbound by necessary laws appeared to be a startling inconsistency--a sort\nof reversal of the poet's idea,\n\n     And binding nature fast in fate,\n       Left free the human will.\n\nIt appeared to remove the chains of necessity from inanimate nature, and\nrivet them on the will.\n\nBut there is a decided principle of connexion between the two doctrines:\nwhether or not it be a principle that will bear scrutiny, is another\nquestion. The two systems are identified with each other, simply by the\nannihilation of the notion of power both in the material and in the\nimmaterial world. As we cannot find in physical causes any power to\nproduce their effect, so when a man moves his arm to strike, or his\ntongue to reprimand, we have no notion of any _power_ being exercised;\nbut we have an impression that certain impulses are followed, and we can\nno more suppose that it was at the choice of the individual whether,\nwhen these impulses or motives existed, they should or should not be\nobeyed, than that when the phenomenon called in the material world the\ncause, made its appearance, there could be any doubt of its being\nfollowed by the effect. The inference from this was, that human actions\nare as much the objects of inductive philosophy as the operations of\nnature; that they are equally regular, effect following cause as much in\nthe operations of the passions as in those of the elements. Of the\napplication of the theory to his historical observation of events, the\nfollowing passage is a vivid enunciation:--\n\n\n\"It is universally acknowledged, that there is a great uniformity among\nthe actions of men, in all nations and ages, and that human nature\nremains still the same in its principles and operations. The same\nmotives always produce the same actions; the same events follow from the\nsame causes. Ambition, avarice, self-love, vanity, friendship,\ngenerosity, public spirit; these passions, mixed in various degrees, and\ndistributed through society, have been, from the beginning of the world,\nand still are, the source of all the actions and enterprises which have\never been observed among mankind. Would you know the sentiments,\ninclinations, and course of life of the Greeks and Romans? study well\nthe temper and actions of the French and English: you cannot be much\nmistaken in transferring to the former _most_ of the observations which\nyou have made with regard to the latter. Mankind are so much the same,\nin all times and places, that history informs us of nothing new or\nstrange in this particular. Its chief use is only to discover the\nconstant and universal principles of human nature, by showing men in all\nvarieties of circumstances and situations, and furnishing us with\nmaterials from which we may form our observations, and become acquainted\nwith the regular springs of human action and behaviour. These records of\nwars, intrigues, factions, and revolutions, are so many collections of\nexperiments, by which the politician or moral philosopher fixes the\nprinciples of his science, in the same manner as the physician or\nnatural philosopher becomes acquainted with the nature of plants,\nminerals, and other external objects, by the experiments which he forms\nconcerning them. Nor are the earth, water, and other elements, examined\nby Aristotle and Hippocrates, more like to those which at present lie\nunder our observation, than the men described by Polybius and Tacitus\nare to those who now govern the world.\n\n\"Should a traveller, returning from a far country, bring us an account\nof men wholly different from any with whom we were ever acquainted, men\nwho were entirely divested of avarice, ambition, or revenge, who knew no\npleasure but friendship, generosity, and public spirit, we should\nimmediately, from these circumstances, detect the falsehood, and prove\nhim a liar, with the same certainty as if he had stuffed his narration\nwith stories of centaurs and dragons, miracles and prodigies. And if we\nwould explode any forgery in history, we cannot make use of a more\nconvincing argument than to prove, that the actions ascribed to any\nperson are directly contrary to the course of nature, and that no human\nmotives, in such circumstances, could ever induce him to such a conduct.\nThe veracity of Quintus Curtius is as much to be suspected, when he\ndescribes the supernatural courage of Alexander, by which he was hurried\non singly to attack multitudes, as when he describes his supernatural\nforce and activity, by which he was able to resist them. So readily and\nuniversally do we acknowledge a uniformity in human motives and actions,\nas well as in the operations of body.\n\n\"Hence, likewise, the benefit of that experience, acquired by long life\nand a variety of business and company, in order to instruct us in the\nprinciples of human nature, and regulate our future conduct, as well as\nspeculation. By means of this guide we mount up to the knowledge of\nmen's inclinations and motives, from their actions, expressions, and\neven gestures; and again descend to the interpretation of their\nactions, from our knowledge of their motives and inclinations. The\ngeneral observations, treasured up by a course of experience, give us\nthe clue of human nature, and teach us to unravel all its intricacies.\nPretexts and appearances no longer deceive us. Public declarations pass\nfor the specious colouring of a cause. And though virtue and honour be\nallowed their proper weight and authority, that perfect\ndisinterestedness, so often pretended to, is never expected in\nmultitudes and parties, seldom in their leaders, and scarcely even in\nindividuals of any rank or station. But were there no uniformity in\nhuman actions, and were every experiment, which we could form of this\nkind, irregular and anomalous, it were impossible to collect any general\nobservations concerning mankind; and no experience, however accurately\ndigested by reflection, would ever serve to any purpose. Why is the aged\nhusbandman more skilful in his calling than the young beginner, but\nbecause there is a certain uniformity in the operation of the sun, rain,\nand earth, towards the production of vegetables; and experience teaches\nthe old practitioner the rules by which this operation is governed and\ndirected?\"[278:1]\n\n\nHow very clearly we find these principles practically illustrated in his\nHistory! A disinclination to believe in the narratives of great and\nremarkable deeds proceeding from peculiar impulses: a propensity, when\nthe evidence adduced in their favour cannot be rebutted, to treat these\npeculiarities rather as diseases of the mind, than as the operation of\nnoble aspirations: a levelling disposition to find all men pretty much\nupon a par, and none in a marked manner better or worse than their\nneighbours: an inclination to doubt all authorities which tended to\nprove that the British people had any fundamental liberties not\npossessed by the French and other European nations. Such are the\npractical fruits of this necessitarian philosophy.\n\nIt was on this occasion that Hume promulgated those opinions upon\nmiracles, which we have found him afraid to make public even in that\nwork of which he afterwards regretted the bold and rash character. No\npart of his writings gave more offence to serious and devout thinkers;\nbut the offence was in the manner of the promulgation, not the matter of\nthe opinions. To understand how this occurred, let us cast a glance for\na moment at two opposite classes of religious thinkers, into which a\nlarge portion of the Christian world is divided, and find with which, if\nwith either, Hume's opinions coincide.\n\nIf we suppose a man, impressed with a feeling of devotion and reverence\nfor a Superior Being, who, seeing in the order of the world and all its\nmovements, the omnipotent, all-wise, and all-merciful guidance of a\ndivine Providence, believes that the Great Being will give to his\ncreatures no revelation that is not in accordance with the merciful\nharmony of all his ways; and thus devoutly and submissively receives the\nword of God as promulgated in the Bible; attempts to make it the rule of\nhis actions and opinions; receives with deference the views of those\nwhom the same power that authorized it, has permitted to be the human\ninstruments of its promulgation and explanation; tries to understand\nwhat it is within the power of his limited faculties to comprehend; but,\nimplicitly believing that in the shadows of those mysteries which he is\nunable to penetrate, there lie operations as completely part of one\ngreat regular plan, as merciful, as beneficent, and as wise as the\noutward and comprehensible acts of Providence; who thus never for one\nmoment allows his mind to doubt, where it is unable to comprehend or\nexplain--such a man finds none of his sentiments in the writings of\nHume, for he is at once told there that reason and revelation are two\ndisconnected things, that each must act alone, and that the one derives\nno aid from the other.\n\nBut take one who believes that religion is too sacred to be in any way\nallied with so poor and miserable a thing as erring human reason; who\nfeels that it is not in himself to merit any of the boundless mercies of\nthe atonement; and that to endeavour by his actions, or the direction of\nhis thoughts, to be made a participator in them, is but setting blind\nreason to lead the blind appetites and desires; who feels that by no act\nof his own, the true light of the Christian religion has been lighted\nwithin him as by a miracle; who has been adopted by a sudden change in\nhis spiritual nature into the family of the faithful--then there is\nnothing in all Hume's philosophy to militate against the religion of\nsuch a man, but rather many arguments in its favour, both implied and\nexpressed.\n\nSince this is the case, it may be asked, why, if one party in religion\nattacked the opinions of Hume, another did not defend them? why, if\nBeattie and Warburton couched the lance, Whitefield and John Erskine did\nnot come forward as his champions? In the first place, it was only those\nwho united reason and revelation as going hand in hand and aiding each\nother, that looked at books of philosophy with an eye to their influence\non religion, and such works formed a department of literature in which\nthe advocates of \"eternal decrees\" would not expect to find much to suit\ntheir purpose. But, in the second place, this class of religious\nthinkers are all, except the few who are hypocrites, devout and serious\npeople, and Hume's method of treating these subjects was not such as\nthey could feel a sympathy with. A want of proper deference for\ndevotional feeling, is a defect that runs through all his works--a\nconstitutional organic defect it might be termed. There is no ribaldry,\nbut at the same time there are no expressions of decent reverence; while\nthis religious party knew from the manner in which their predecessors in\nthe same doctrines were historically treated by Hume, that if there were\nany coincidence in abstract opinions, there was very little in common\nbetween their sympathies and his.\n\nIn this same section on miracles, there are repeated protests against\nthe reader assuming that the writer is arguing against the Christian\nfaith. Against some Catholic miracles, which were asserted to be proved\nby testimony as strong as that which attested the miracles of our\nSaviour, he says, \"As if the testimony of man could ever be put in the\nbalance with that of God himself, who conducted the pen of the inspired\nwriters!\" and again, \"Our most holy religion is founded on _faith_, not\non reason; and it is a sure method of exposing it to put it to such a\ntrial as it is by no means fitted to endure.\" These protests however\nwere made briefly and coldly, and in such a manner as made people feel,\nthat if Hume believed in the doctrines they announced, he certainly had\nnot his heart in them. Hence, although, since the origin of rationalism,\nevangelical Christians have frequently had recourse to the arguments of\nHume, there was long in that quarter a not unnatural reluctance to\nappeal to them.\n\nIt is perhaps one of the most remarkable warnings against hasty\njudgments on the effects of efforts of subtle reasoning, that, according\nto later scientific discoveries, no two things are in more perfect\nunison than Hume's theory of belief in miracles, and the belief that\nmiracles, according to the common acceptation of the term, have actually\ntaken place. The leading principle of this theory is, in conformity with\nits author's law of cause and effect, that where our experience has\ntaught us that two things follow each other as cause and effect by an\nunvarying sequence, if we hear of an instance in which this has not been\nthe case, we ought to doubt the truth of the narrative. In other words,\nif we are told of some circumstance having taken place out of the usual\norder of nature, we ought not to believe it; because the circumstance of\nthe narrator having been deceived, or of his designedly telling a\nfalsehood, is more probable than an event contradictory to all previous\nauthenticated experience. It is a rule for marking the boundary and\nproper application of the inductive system, and one that is highly\nserviceable to science. But, in applying it to use, we must not be led\naway by the narrow application, in common conversation, of the word\nexperience. There is the experience of the common workman, and there is\nthe experience of the philosopher. There is that observation of\nphenomena which makes a ditcher know that the difficulty of pulling out\na loosened stone with a mattock indicates it to be so many inches thick;\nand that observation, fully as sure, which shows the geologist that the\nstratum of the Pennsylvanian grauwacke is upwards of a hundred miles\nthick. The experience and observation of the husbandman teach him, that\nwhen the opposite hill is distinct to his view, the intervening\natmosphere is not charged with vapour; but observation, not less\nsatisfactory, shows the astronomer that Jupiter and the Moon have around\nthem no atmosphere such as that by which our planet is enveloped. Now\nthere is nothing more fully founded on experimental observation than the\nfact, that there was a time when the present order of the world was not\nin existence. That there have been convulsions, such as, did we now hear\nof their contemporary occurrence, instead of attesting their past\nexistence through the sure course of observation and induction, we would\nat once maintain to be impossible. To this then, and this only, comes\nthe theory of miracles, that at the present day, and for a great many\nyears back, the accounts that are given of circumstances having taken\nplace out of the general order of nature, are to be discredited, because\nbetween the two things to be believed, the falsehood of the narrative is\nmore likely than the truth of the occurrence. But the very means by\nwhich we arrive at this conclusion bring us to another, that there was a\ntime to which the rules taken from present observation of the course of\nnature did not apply.[283:1]\n\nThat in history, in science, in the conduct of every-day life, and\nparticularly in the formation of the minds of the young, this rule of\nbelief is of the highest practical utility, few will doubt. The parish\nclergyman, who assists in throwing discredit on all the superstitious\nstories of spectres, witchcrafts, and demoniacal possessions with which\nhis neighbourhood may be afflicted, is but an active promulgator of the\ndoctrine. It was a narrow view that Campbell adopted when he said, that\nif we heard of a ferry boat, which had long crossed the stream in\nsafety, having sunk, we would give credit to the testimony concerning\nit.[284:1] Our experience teaches us that ferry boats are made of\nperishable materials, liable to be submerged; and thus, in this case,\nthere is no balance of incredibility against the narrator. To have tried\nCampbell's practical faith in Hume's theory, he should have had before\nhim a person professing to have become aware of the sinking of the boat,\nby some unprecedented means of perception, called a magnetic influence,\nin the absence of a more distinct name; while it is shown that the same\nperson had an opportunity of being informed, through the organs of\nhearing, of the circumstance which had taken place. It would then be\nseen, whether that sagacious philosopher would have given the sanction\nof his belief to a phenomenon contrary to all previous experience--the\nascertainment of an external event, without the aid of the senses; or\nwould have acceded to the too commonly illustrated phenomenon, that\nhuman beings are capable of falsehood and folly.\n\nIt is much to be regretted that Hume employed the word miracles in the\ntitle of this inquiry. He thus employed a term which had been applied to\nsacred subjects, and raised a natural prejudice against reasonings,\napplicable to contemporary events, and to the rules of ordinary\nhistorical belief. He might have found some other title--such as, \"The\nPrinciples of Belief in Human Testimony,\" which would have more\nsatisfactorily explained the nature of the inquiry.\n\nBut it is not improbable that the odium thus occasioned first introduced\nHume's philosophical works to controversial notoriety. Though\ndisappointed by the silence of the public immediately on his arrival\nfrom abroad, he has soon to tell us in his \"own life,\"--\"Meanwhile, my\nbookseller, A. Millar, informed me, that my former publications (all but\nthe unfortunate Treatise) were beginning to be the subject of\nconversation; that the sale of them was gradually increasing, and that\nnew editions were demanded. Answers by reverends and right reverends\ncame out two and three in a year;[285:1] and I found, by Warburton's\nrailing, that the books were beginning to be esteemed in good\ncompany.\"[285:2]\n\nIt was in the \"Inquiry concerning the Human Understanding,\" that Hume\npromulgated the theory of association, which called forth so much\nadmiration of its simplicity, beauty, and truth. \"To me,\" he says,\n\"there appear to be only three principles of connexion among ideas,\nnamely, _Resemblance_, _Contiguity_ in time or place, and _Cause_ or\n_Effect_.\n\n\"That these principles serve to connect ideas, will not, I believe, be\nmuch doubted. A picture naturally leads our thoughts to the original\n[Resemblance.] The mention of one apartment in a building, naturally\nintroduces an inquiry or discourse concerning the others [Contiguity:]\nand if we think on a wound, we can scarcely forbear reflecting on the\npain which follows it [Cause and Effect.]\"[286:1]\n\nIn connexion with this theory a curious charge has been brought forward\nby Coleridge, who says, \"In consulting the excellent commentary of St.\nThomas Aquinas, on the Parva Naturalia of Aristotle, I was struck at\nonce with its close resemblance to Hume's essay on association. The main\nthoughts were the same in both. The _order_ of the thoughts was the\nsame, and even the illustrations differed only by Hume's occasional\nsubstitution of more modern examples. I mentioned the circumstance to\nseveral of my literary acquaintances, who admitted the closeness of the\nresemblance, and that it seemed too great to be explained by mere\ncoincidence; but they thought it improbable that Hume should have held\nthe pages of the angelic doctor worth turning over. But some time after,\nMr. Payne of the King's Mews, showed Sir James Mackintosh some odd\nvolumes of St. Thomas Aquinas, partly perhaps from having heard that Sir\nJames, (then Mr. Mackintosh,) had in his lectures passed a high encomium\non this canonized philosopher, but chiefly from the fact that the\nvolumes had belonged to Mr. Hume, and had here and there marginal marks\nand notes of reference in his own handwriting. Among these volumes was\nthat which contains the Parva Naturalia, in the old Latin version,\nswathed and swaddled in the commentary aforementioned.\"\n\nOn this, Sir James Macintosh says, that \"the manuscript of a part of\nAquinas, which I bought many years ago, (on the faith of a bookseller's\ncatalogue,) as being written by Mr. Hume, was not a copy of the\ncommentary on the _Parva Naturalia_, but of Aquinas's own _Secunda\nSecund\u00e6_; and that, on examination, it proves not to be the handwriting\nof Mr. Hume, and to contain nothing written by him.\"[287:1] So much for\nthe external evidence of plagiarism.\n\nWith regard to the internal evidence, the passage of Aquinas\nparticularly referred to, which will be found below,[287:2] refers to\nmemory not imagination; to the recall of images in the relation to each\nother in which they have once had a place in the mind, not to the\nformation of new associations, or aggregates of ideas there; nor will it\nbring the theories to an identity, that, according to Hume's doctrine,\nnothing can be recalled in the mind unless its elements have already\nbeen deposited there in the form of ideas, because the observations of\nAquinas apply altogether to the _reminiscence_ of aggregate objects. But\nthe classification is different: for Hume's embodies cause and effect,\nbut not contrariety; while that of Aquinas has contrariety, but not\ncause and effect. In a division into three elements, this discrepancy is\nmaterial; and, without entering on any lengthened reasoning, it may\nsimply be observed, that the merit of Hume's classification is, that it\nis exhaustive, and neither contains any superfluous element, nor omits\nany principle under which an act of association can be classed.\n\nBut it is remarkable that Coleridge should have failed to keep in view,\nin his zeal to discover some curious thing to reward him for his\nresearches among the fathers, that the classification is not that of\nAquinas, but of Aristotle, and is contained in the very work on which\nthe passage in Aquinas is one of the many commentaries.[288:1]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe \"Essays Moral and Political,\" had, though it is not mentioned by\nHume in his \"own life,\" been so well received, that a second edition\nappeared in 1742, the same year in which the second volume of the\noriginal edition was published. A third edition was published in London\nin 1748,[289:1] of which Hume, comparing them with his neglected\ncontemporaneous publication of the Inquiry, says that they \"met not with\na much better reception.\"\n\nTwo essays, which had appeared in the previous editions, were omitted in\nthe third. One of these, \"Of Essay Writing,\" was evidently written at\nthe time when the author had the design of publishing his work\nperiodically,[289:2] and was meant as a prospectus or announcement to\nthe readers, of the method in which he proposed to address them in his\nperiodical papers. The other was a \"Character of Sir Robert Walpole;\" a\ncurious attempt to take an impartial estimate of a man who, at the time\nof the first publication, had been longer in office, and was surrounded\nby a more numerous and powerful band of enemies, than any previous\nBritish statesman. But between the two publications the enemies had\ntriumphed; and the statesman of forty years had been driven into\nretirement, where death speedily relieved him from a scene of inaction,\nwhich might have been repose to others, but was to him an insupportable\nsolitude. Party rage had consequently changed its direction, and that\nair of solemn deliberation which, while the statesman was moving between\nthe admiration of his friends and the hatred of his enemies, had an\nappearance of resolute stoical impartiality, might have appeared\nstrained and affected, if the essay had been republished in 1748.\n\nTo this third edition three essays were added, \"Of National Characters,\"\n\"Of the Original Contract,\" and \"Of Passive Obedience.\" The first of\nthese contains some very curious incidental notices of ancient morals\nand habits, so adapted to modern colloquial language and habits, as to\nmake the descriptions as clear to the unlearned as to the learned; as,\nfor example, the following notices of the drinking practices of the\nancients:--\n\n\"The ancient Greeks, though born in a warm climate, seem to have been\nmuch addicted to the bottle; nor were their parties of pleasure any\nthing but matches of drinking among men, who passed their time\naltogether apart from the fair. Yet when Alexander led the Greeks into\nPersia, a still more southern climate, they multiplied their debauches\nof this kind, in imitation of the Persian manners.[290:1] So honourable\nwas the character of a drunkard among the Persians, that Cyrus the\nyounger, soliciting the sober Lacedemonians for succour against his\nbrother Artaxerxes, claims it chiefly on account of his superior\nendowments, as more valorous, more bountiful, and a better\ndrinker.[290:2] Darius Hystaspes made it be inscribed on his tomb-stone,\namong his other virtues and princely qualities, that no one could bear a\ngreater quantity of liquor.\"\n\nThe other two essays, though bearing on subjects which have now almost\ndropped out of political discussion, \"The Original Contract,\" and\n\"Passive Obedience,\" trod close on the heels of the long conflict in\nwhich Milton, Salmasius, Hobbes, Sidney, Locke, and Filmer, had been\npartakers; and while the din of arms was far from being exhausted, they\nprofessed to hold the balance equally between the combatants, or, more\nproperly speaking, to examine philosophically the merits of the theory\nof each party, without taking up the angry arguments of either. They\nare, in truth, but a farther adaptation to politics of those utilitarian\ntheories which Hume had previously applied both to private morals and to\ngovernment. And the principle they promulgate is, that the citizen's\nallegiance to the laws and constitution of his country, has its proper\nfoundation neither in an acknowledgment of the divine right of any\ngovernor, nor in a contract with him by which both parties are bound,\nbut in the moral duty of respecting internal peace and order, and of\navoiding outbreaks which may plunge the people into anarchy and misery,\nto gratify the pride or baser passions of turbulent individuals.\n\nIt must have been on his return on this occasion, that Hume rejoined the\nfamily circle at Ninewells, bereaved of the parent whose devotion to his\ntraining and education he has so affectionately commemorated. \"I went\ndown,\" he says, \"in 1749, and lived two years with my brother at his\ncountry house, for my mother was now dead.\"[291:1] In a letter, which\nwill have to be afterwards referred to, by Dr. Black, to Adam Smith,\nwritten when Hume was on his death-bed, and in relation to his final\nillness, there is the remark, \"His mother,\" he says, \"had precisely the\nsame constitution with himself, and died of this very disorder.\"\n\nOn this subject, the American traveller, Silliman, gave currency to a\nfoolish and improbable story, which he puts in the following shape:--\n\n\"It seems that Hume received a religious education from his mother, and\nearly in life was the subject of strong and hopeful religious\nimpressions; but, as he approached manhood, they were effaced, and\nconfirmed infidelity succeeded. Maternal partiality, however alarmed at\nfirst, came at length to look with less and less pain upon this\ndeclension, and filial love and reverence seem to have been absorbed in\nthe pride of philosophical scepticism; for Hume now applied himself with\nunwearied, and unhappily with successful efforts, to sap the foundation\nof his mother's faith. Having succeeded in this dreadful work, he went\nabroad into foreign countries; and as he was returning, an express met\nhim in London, with a letter from his mother, informing him that she was\nin a deep decline, and could not long survive: she said, she found\nherself without any support in her distress; that he had taken away that\nsource of comfort, upon which, in all cases of affliction, she used to\nrely, and that now she found her mind sinking into despair. She did not\ndoubt but her son would afford her some substitute for her religion; and\nshe conjured him to hasten to her, or at least to send her a letter,\ncontaining such consolations as philosophy can afford to a dying mortal.\nHume was overwhelmed with anguish on receiving this letter, and hastened\nto Scotland, travelling day and night; but before he arrived his mother\nexpired. No permanent impression seems, however, to have been made on\nhis mind by this most trying event; and whatever remorse he might have\nfelt at the moment, he soon relapsed into his wonted obduracy of heart.\"\n\nThis story, probably told after dinner, and invented on the spot,--the\nAmerican narrator's unfortunate name perhaps rendering him peculiarly\nliable to the machinations of the mischievous,--is totally at variance\nwith Hume's character. He was no propagandist; and, indeed, seems ever\nto have felt, that a firm faith in Christianity, unshaken by any doubts,\nwas an invaluable privilege, of which it would be as much more cruel to\ndeprive a fellow-creature than to rob him of his purse, as the one\npossession is more valuable than the other. Hence we shall find, that\nhis conversation was acceptable to women and to clergymen, who never\nfeared in his presence to encounter any sentiment that might shock their\nfeelings; and what is more to the point, parents were never afraid of\ntrusting their children to his care and social attentions, and indeed\nthought it a high privilege to obtain them.\n\nThe appearance of the above passage in a notice of \"Silliman's Travels\"\nin _The Quarterly Review_, called forth a remonstrance from Baron Hume,\nwhich elicited the following statement from the editor:--[293:1]\n\n\"That anecdote he has shown to be false by unquestionable dates, and by\na circumstance related in the manuscript memoirs of the late Dr.\nCarlyle, an eminent clergyman of the Scottish Church, and friend of the\nhistorian. The circumstance, interesting in itself, and decisive on the\nsubject, we transcribe, in the words of the manuscript, from the letter\nbefore us:--\n\n\"David and he (the Hon. Mr. Boyle, brother of the Earl of Glasgow) were\nboth in London at the period when David's mother died. Mr. Boyle,\nhearing of it, soon after went into his apartment, for they lodged in\nthe same house, where he found him in the deepest affliction, and in a\nflood of tears. After the usual topics of condolence, Mr. Boyle said to\nhim, 'My friend, you owe this uncommon grief to having thrown off the\nprinciples of religion; for if you had not, you would have been consoled\nwith the firm belief that the good lady, who was not only the best of\nmothers but the most pious of Christians, was completely happy in the\nrealms of the just.' To which David replied, 'Though I throw out my\nspeculations to entertain the learned and metaphysical world, yet, in\nother things, I do not think so differently from the rest of the world\nas you imagine.'\"[294:1]\n\nOne of Hume's most intimate friends was Dr. Clephane, a physician in\nconsiderable practice in London. They appear to have become acquainted\nwith each other during the expedition to Port L'Orient, in which\nClephane was probably a medical officer, as Hume, in his letters about\nhis own half-pay, speaks of him as in the same position with himself.\nThe correspondence is characterized by the thorough ease and polite\nfamiliarity of the camp, and none of Hume's letters are fuller of his\nplayful spirit than those addressed to his brother officer.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"\u0399\u03b7\u03c4\u03c1\u1f78\u03c2 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u1f00\u03bd\u03b7\u03c1 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03bb\u1ff6\u03bd \u1f00\u03bd\u03c4\u03ac\u03be\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 \u1f04\u03bb\u03bb\u03c9\u03bd.[296:1]\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I have here received a great many thanks from an honest\nman, who tells me that he and all his family have been extremely obliged\nto me. This is my brother's gardener, who showed me a letter from his\nson, wherein he acknowledges that he owes his life to your care; that\nyou placed him in an hospital, and attended him with as much assiduity\nas if he had been the best nobleman in the land; that all he shall ever\nbe worth will never be able to repay you: and that therefore he must\ncontent himself with being grateful: at the same time desiring his\nfather to give me thanks, by whose means he was recommended to you.\n\n\"These thanks I received with great gravity, and replied, that one must\nalways endeavour to do good when it is in one's power. In short, I took\nupon me your part, and gave myself as many airs as if I had really shown\nthe same beneficent dispositions. I considered that you have good deeds\nto spare, and are possessed of greater store of merits and works of\nsupererogation, than any church, Pagan, Mahometan, or Catholic, ever was\nentitled to, and that, therefore, to rob you a little was no great\ncrime:--\n\n                           ----cui plura supersunt,\n     Et fallunt dominum, et prosunt furibus.[297:1]\n\n\"I hope, dear Doctor, you find virtue its own reward--that, methinks, is\nbut just--considering it is the only reward it is ever likely to meet\nwith--in this world I mean; at least you may take your own reward\nyourself for me. I shall never trouble my head about the matter, and you\nneed not expect that I shall even like or esteem you the better for this\ninstance of your charity and humanity. You fancy, I suppose, that I\nalready liked and esteemed you so much, that this makes no sensible\naddition. You may fancy what you please: I shall not so much as speak\nanother word upon this subject, but proceed to a better. You shall see.\n\n\"You would perhaps ask, how I employ my time in this leisure and\nsolitude, and what are my occupations? Pray, do you expect I should\nconvey to you an encyclopedia, in the compass of a letter? The last\nthing I took my hand from was a very learned, elaborate discourse,\nconcerning the populousness of antiquity; not altogether in opposition\nto _Vossius_ and _Montesquieu_, who exaggerate that affair infinitely;\nbut, starting some doubts, and scruples, and difficulties, sufficient\nto make us suspend our judgment on that head. Amongst other topics, it\nfell in my way to consider the greatness of ancient _Rome_; and in\nlooking over the discourse, I find the following period. 'If we may\njudge by the younger Pliny's account of his house, and by the plans of\nancient buildings in Dr. Mead's collection, the men of quality had very\nspacious palaces, and their buildings were like the Chinese houses,\nwhere each apartment is separate from the rest, and rises no higher than\na single story.'[298:1] Pray, on what authority are those plans founded?\nIf I remember right, I was told they were discovered on the walls of the\nbaths, and other subterraneous buildings. Is this the proper method of\nciting them? If you have occasion to communicate this to Dr. Mead, I beg\nthat my sincere respects may be joined.\n\n\"I think the parsons have lately used the physicians very ill, for, in\nall the common terrors of mankind, you used commonly both to come in for\na share of the profit: but in this new fear of earthquakes, they have\nleft you out entirely, and have pretended alone to give prescriptions to\nthe multitude.[298:2] I remember, indeed, Mr. Addison talks of a quack\nthat advertised pills for an earthquake, at a time when people lay under\nsuch terrors as they do at present. But I know not if any of the faculty\nhave imitated him at this time. I see only a Pastoral Letter of the\nBishop of London, where, indeed, he recommends certain pills, such as\nfasting, prayer, repentance, mortification, and other drugs, which are\nentirely to come from his own shop. And I think this is very unfair in\nhim, and you have great reason to be offended; for why might he not have\nadded, that medicinal powders and potions would also have done service?\nThe worst is, that you dare not revenge yourself in kind, by advising\nyour patients to have nothing to do with the parson; for you are sure he\nhas a faster hold of them than you, and you may yourself be discharged\non such an advice.[299:1]\n\n\"You'll scarcely believe what I am going to tell you; but it is\nliterally true. Millar had printed off, some months ago, a new edition\nof certain philosophical essays, but he tells me very gravely that he\nhas delayed publishing because of the earthquakes.[300:1] I wish you may\nnot also be a loser by the same common calamity; for I am told the\nladies were so frightened, they took the rattling of every coach for an\nearthquake; and therefore would employ no physicians but from amongst\nthe infantry: insomuch that some of you charioteers had not gained\nenough to pay the expenses of your vehicle. But this may only be waggery\nand banter, which I abhor. Please remember to give my respects to the\nGeneral, and Sir Harry, and Captain Grant, who I hope are all in good\nhealth: indeed, as to the Captain, I do not know what to hope, or wish;\nfor if he recover his health, he loses his shape, and must always remain\nin that perplexing dilemma.--Remember me also to Suncey\nGlassaugh,[300:2] and remember me yourself.\n\n\"_Ninewells, near Berwick, April 18, 1750._\n\n\"P.S.--Pray, did Guidelianus[300:3] get his money, allowed him by the\nPay-office? I suppose he is in Ireland, poor devil! so I give you no\ncommission with regard to him.\n\n\"Pray, tell Glassaugh that I hope he has not suppressed the paper I\nsent him about the new year.[301:1] If he has, pray ask for a sight of\nit, for it is very witty. I contrived it one night that I could not\nsleep for the tortures of rheumatism; and you have heard of a great\nlady, who always put on blisters, when she wanted to be witty. 'Tis a\nreceipt I recommend to you.\"[301:2]\n\n\nThe following letter to Oswald shows us that Hume was, at the time it\nwas written, earnestly engaged in the preparation of the \"Essays on\nPolitical Economy,\" which he published in 1752.\n\n\nHUME _to_ JAMES OSWALD _of Dunnikier_.\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I confess I was a little displeased with you for neglecting\nme so long; but you have made ample compensation. This commerce, I find,\nis of advantage to both of us; to me, by the new lights you communicate,\nand to you, by giving you occasion to examine these subjects more\naccurately. I shall here deliver my opinion of your reasonings with the\nfreedom which you desire.\n\n\"I never meant to say that money, in all countries which communicate,\nmust necessarily be on a level, but on a level proportioned to their\npeople, industry, and commodities. That is, where there is double\npeople, &c. there will be double money, and so on; and that the only way\nof keeping or increasing money is, by keeping and increasing the people\nand industry; not by prohibitions of exporting money, or by taxes on\ncommodities, the methods commonly thought of. I believe we differ\nlittle on this head. You allow, that if all the money in England were\nincreased fourfold in one night, there would be a sudden rise of prices;\nbut then, say you, the importation of foreign commodities would soon\nlower the prices. Here, then, is the flowing out of the money already\nbegun. But, say you, a small part of this stock of money would suffice\nto buy foreign commodities, and lower the prices. I grant it would for\none year, till the imported commodities be consumed. But must not the\nsame thing be renewed next year? No, say you; the additional stock of\nmoney may, in this interval, so increase the people and industry, as to\nenable them to retain their money. Here I am extremely pleased with your\nreasoning. I agree with you, that the increase of money, if not too\nsudden, naturally increases people and industry, and by that means may\nretain itself; but if it do not produce such an increase, nothing will\nretain it except hoarding. Suppose twenty millions brought into\nScotland; suppose that, by some fatality, we take no advantage of this\nto augment our industry or people, how much would remain in the quarter\nof a century? not a shilling more than we have at present. My expression\nin the Essay needs correction, which has occasioned you to mistake it.\n\n\"Your enumeration of the advantages of rich countries above poor, in\npoint of trade, is very just and curious; but I cannot agree with you\nthat, barring ill policy or accidents, the former might proceed gaining\nupon the latter for ever. The growth of every thing, both in art and\nnature, at last checks itself. The rich country would acquire and retain\nall the manufactures that require great stock or great skill; but the\npoor country would gain from it all the simpler and more laborious. The\nmanufactures of London, you know, are steel, lace, silk, books, coaches,\nwatches, furniture, fashions; but the outlying provinces have the linen\nand woollen trade.\n\n\"The distance of China is a physical impediment to the communication, by\nreducing our commerce to a few commodities; and by heightening the price\nof these commodities, on account of the long voyage, the monopolies, and\nthe taxes. A Chinese works for three-halfpence a-day, and is very\nindustrious; were he as near us as France or Spain, every thing we used\nwould be Chinese, till money and prices came to a level; that is, to\nsuch a level as is proportioned to the numbers of people, industry, and\ncommodities of both countries.\n\n\"A part of our public funds serve in place of money; for our merchants,\nbut still more our bankers, keep less cash by them when they have stock,\nbecause they can dispose of that upon any sudden demand. This is not the\ncase with the French funds. The _rentes_ of the Hotel de Ville are not\ntransferable, but are most of them entailed in the families. At least, I\nknow there is a great difference in this respect betwixt them and the\n_actions_ of the Indian Company.\n\n\"That the industry and people of Spain, after the discovery of the West\nIndies, at first increased more than is commonly imagined, is a very\ncurious fact; and I doubt not but you say so upon good authority, though\nI have not met with that observation in any author.\n\n\"Beside the bad effects of the paper credit in our colonies, as it was a\ncheat, it must also be allowed that it banished gold and silver, by\nsupplying their place. On the whole, my intention in the Essay was to\nremove people's terrors, who are apt, from chimerical calculations, to\nimagine they are losing their specie, though they can show in no\ninstance that either their people or industry diminish; and also to\nexpose the absurdity of guarding money otherwise than by watching over\nthe people and their industry, and preserving or increasing them. To\nprohibit the exportation of money, or the importation of commodities, is\nmistaken policy; and I have the pleasure of seeing you agree with me.\n\n\"I have no more to say, but compliments; and therefore shall conclude. I\nam,\" &c.[304:1]\n\n\"_Ninewells, 1st November, 1750._\"\n\n\nIn 1750 there was published in Edinburgh, an edition of Montesquieu's\n\"Esprit des Loix; avec les dernieres corrections et illustrations de\nl'Auteur.\"[304:2] That Hume was instrumental to this publication, is\nshown by the letters addressed to him by Montesquieu between the years\n1749 and 1753, printed in the appendix. It appears, that, as he there\nintimates, the author sent over a copy of his corrections and\nillustrations; but the work must have been partly printed before their\narrival, for, in the advertisement to the reader, it is stated that a\nfew of the earliest sheets, where the more important amendments\noccurred, had to be reprinted, while some minor alterations are\nsupplied by a list of corrections.\n\nMontesquieu's appreciation of some of Hume's ethical works will be read\nwith interest. Hume appears to have made the first advances towards an\nintimacy; and the great Frenchman, then in his sixtieth year, seems to\nhave hailed with satisfaction the appearance of a kindred spirit, and to\nhave received his proffers with warm cordiality. This is the\ncommencement of that intercourse with his eminent contemporaries in\nFrance, which we shall hereafter find to occupy a prominent feature in\nHume's literary and social history.\n\nAt this period we find Hume taking much interest in the conduct of a\ncertain James Fraser, in connexion with the Westminster election of\n1749--one of the marked epochs in the parliamentary history of that\nrenowned constituency. The candidates were Lord Trentham the eldest son\nof Earl Gower, and Sir George Vandeput, of whom the former was returned\nby the high bailiff. Sir George Vandeput was the \"independent\"\ncandidate, representing the \"English interest.\" Lord Trentham was a\nplaceman, and was accused of a partiality for French interests. Though\nthe Jacobites were ranged on the Vandeput side, Lord Trentham was by\nimplication accused of having favoured the exiled family; as by one of\nthe election placards issued on the occasion, the voters are desired to\n\"ask Lord Trentham, who had his foot in the stirrup in the year 1715?\"\nHe was charged with having sacrificed his country or Jacobite principles\nfor a place, and with being that most abhorred of all political\ncharacters, an ex-patriot, who has ratted to obtain office. Shortly\nbefore the election, a riotous attack had been made on a small French\ntheatre, which had become peculiarly unpopular by obtaining a licence,\nwhen some English establishments had been suppressed under Walpole's\nact. It appears that Lord Trentham had, with some others, endeavoured to\npreserve the friendless foreigners from the fury of the mob. So\nun-English an act, as this harbouring and protecting of foreign\nvagabonds, against the just indignation of true born Britons, was very\nsuccessfully displayed as an overt act in favour of Popery, Jacobitism,\nand French ascendency; and the skilful manner in which it was improved,\nin the hand-bills, and pasquinades of the Vandeput party, shows that\nthis department of the electioneering art was not then far from its\npresent state of maturity.[306:1]\n\nA pretty minute investigation has not enabled me to discover what\nprecise conduct in connexion with this affair was important enough to\nelicit from Hume the elaborate joke against Fraser embodied in the\nfollowing papers. He was evidently a medical man, but he does not appear\nin the list of those who attested Mr. Murray's health, or were appointed\nto visit him. He certainly acted on the Vandeput side, yet his name is\nnowhere mentioned, in connexion with it, in a pretty large collection of\ndocuments relating to this election, which I have had an opportunity of\nconsulting.[307:1]\n\nFraser was evidently, like Clephane, one of the medical officers in\nGeneral St. Clair's expedition, for, in a previous letter to Colonel\nAbercromby, Hume mentions him as an officer in the royal\nregiment.[307:2] He appears to have been a thorough Jacobite, for, in\nanother letter, Hume speaks of him as one of the extreme persons whom\nhis history will displease by its too great partiality to the Whigs. A\nvery pleasing and natural description of his character is given by Hume,\nin a letter to Clephane, a little farther on.[308:1]\n\nThe following document was sent to Colonel Abercromby, along with the\nexplanatory letters which immediately follow it.\n\n\n  To the Right Honourable the Lord Chief Justice Reason, and the\n      Honourable the Judges Discretion, Prudence, Reserve, and\n      Deliberation, the Petition of the Patients of Westminster,\n      against James Fraser, Apothecary.\n\nMost humbly showeth,\n\nThat your petitioners had put themselves and families under the\ndirection and care of the said James Fraser, and had so continued for\nseveral years, to their great mutual benefit and emolument.\n\nThat many of your petitioners had, under his management, recovered from\nthe most desperate and deplorable maladies, such as megrims, toothaches,\ncramps, stitches, vapours, crosses in love, &c. which wonderful success,\nafter the blessing of God, they can ascribe to nothing but his\nconsummate skill and capacity, since many of their neighbours, labouring\nunder the same distresses, died every day, by the mistakes of less\nlearned apothecaries.\n\nThat there are many disconsolate widows among your petitioners, who\nbelieved themselves, and were believed by all their neighbours, to be\ndying of grief; but as soon as the said James Fraser applied lenitives,\nand proper topical medicines, they were observed to recover wonderfully.\n\nThat in all hypochondriacal cases he was sovereign, in so much that his\nvery presence dispelled the malady, cheering the sight, exciting a\ngentle agitation of the muscles of the lungs and thorax, and thereby\npromoting expectoration, exhilaration, circulation, and digestion.\n\nThat your petitioners verily believe, that not many more have died from\namongst them, under the administration of the said James Fraser, than\nactually die by the course of nature in places where physic is not at\nall known or practised; which will scarcely be credited in this\nsceptical and unbelieving age.\n\nThat all this harmony and good agreement betwixt your petitioners and\nthe said James Fraser had lately been disturbed, to the great detriment\nof your petitioners and their once numerous families.\n\nThat the said James Fraser, associating himself with ---- Carey,\nsurgeon, and William Guthrey, Esq. and other evil intentioned persons,\nnot having the fear of God before their eyes, had given himself entirely\nup to the care of Dame PUBLIC, and had utterly neglected your\npetitioners.\n\nThat the lady above mentioned was of a most admirable CONSTITUTION,\nenvied by all who had ever seen her or heard of her; and was only\nafflicted sometimes with vapours, and sometimes with a looseness or\nflux, which not being of the bloody kind, those about her were rather\npleased with it.\n\nThat notwithstanding this, the said James Fraser uses all diligence and\nart to persuade the said lady that she is in the most desperate case\nimaginable, and that nothing will recover her but a medicine he has\nprepared, being a composition of _pulvis pyrius_,[310:1] along with a\ndecoction of northern steel, and an infusion of southern _aqua sacra_ or\nholy water.\n\nThat the medicine, or rather poison, was at first wrapt up under a wafer\nmarked Patriotism, but had since been attempted to be administrated\nwithout any cover or disguise.\n\nThat a dose of it had secretly been poured down the throat of the said\nDame Public, while she was asleep, and had been attended with the most\ndismal symptoms, visibly heightening her vapours, and increasing her\nflux, and even producing some symptoms of the bloody kind; and had she\nnot thrown it up with great violence, it had certainly proved fatal to\nher.\n\nThat the said James Fraser and his associates, now finding that the\n_Catholicon_ does not agree with the constitution of the said Dame,\nprescribed to her large doses of _Phillipiacum_, _Cottontium_,[310:2]\nand _Vandeputiana_,[310:3] in order to alter her constitution, and\nprepare her body for the reception of the said Catholicon.\n\nThat he had even been pleased to see Lovitium[310:4] applied to her,\nthough known to be a virulent caustic, and really no better than a\n_lapis infernalis_.\n\nThat while the medicines Goveriacum and Trentuntium[311:1] were very\nviolent, resembling sublimate of _high flown_ mercury, he also much\napproved of them, but since they were mollified by late operations, and\nmade as innocent as mercurius dulcis, they were become his utter\naversion.\n\nThat the said James Fraser, through his whole practice on the said Dame\nPublic, entirely rejected all lenitives, soporifics, palliatives, &c.\nthough approved of by the regular and graduate physicians, as Dr.\nPelham, Dr. Fox, Dr. Pitt; and that he prescribed nothing but chemical\nsalts and stimulating medicines, in which regimen none but quacks and\nempirics who had never taken their degrees will agree with him.\n\nThat your petitioners remember the story of an Irish servant to a\nphysician, which seems fitted to the present purpose. The doctor bid\nTeague carry a potion to a patient, and tell him it was the most\ninnocent in the world, and if it did him no good, could do him no harm.\nThe footman obeys, but unluckily transposing a word, said, that if it\ndid him no harm it could do him no good. And your petitioners are much\nafraid that the catholicon above mentioned is much of the same nature.\n\n  May it therefore please your worships to discharge the said\n      James Fraser from any farther attendance on the said Dame\n      Public, and to order him to return to the care and inspection\n      of your petitioners and their families.\n\n\nThe following is entitled, \"True letter to Colonel Abercromby, to be\nfirst read.\"\n\n\n\"DEAR COLONEL,--Endeavour to make Fraser believe I am in earnest. If\nthe thing takes, you may easily find somebody to personate Mr. Cockburn;\nand you may swear to the truth of the whole. To make it more probable,\nyou may say that you suspect too much study has made me crazy; otherwise\nI had never thought of so foolish a thing.\n\n\"If there be any probability of succeeding, an advertisement, like that\nwhich is on the following page, may be put into any of the public\npapers--that is, if you think _que le jeu vaut la chandelle_.\n\n\"My compliments to Mrs. Abercromby. I hope some day to regain her good\nopinion. It shall be the great object of my ambition.\n\n\"Tell the Doctor I shall answer him sooner than he did me. He will\nassist you very well in any cheat or roguery: but do not attempt it,\nunless you think you can all be masters of your countenance. This is a\nnote, not a letter. Yours sincerely.\n\n\"P.S. Read Fraser the letter, but do not put it into his hands; he will\ntear it. Show him first my other letter to you.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\"ADVERTISEMENT.--Speedily will be published, price 1s. A letter to a\ncertain turbulent Patriot in Westminster, from a friend in the country.\n\n                       ----_Et_ spargere voces\n     In vulgum ambiguas, et qu\u00e6rere conscius arma.--_Virgil._\"\n\n\nThe following is the letter which, in pursuance of the arrangements for\ncompleting this complicated joke, Colonel Abercromby was to read to\nFraser. Its tone of mock heroic will at once be detected, and indeed,\nwhen the spilling of the last drop of blood, \"or of ink,\" is with so\nmuch simplicity made an alternative, it may be presumed that James\nFraser was a very obtuse being, if he believed these protestations to\nbe serious.\n\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--This will be delivered you by Mr. William Cockburn, a friend\nof mine, who travels to London for the first time. I have taken the\nopportunity to send up by him a manuscript, which I intend to have\nprinted. I have ordered him first to read it to you; but not to trust it\nout of his hands. You can scarce be surprised that I treat Mr. Fraser so\nroughly in it. No man, who loves his country, can be a friend to that\ngentleman, considering his late as well as former behaviour. For if I be\nrightly informed, his conduct shows no more the spirit of submission and\ntranquillity than that of prudence and discretion; and if he goes on at\nthis rate, you yourself will be obliged to renounce all connexion and\nfriendship with him.\n\n\"I have been ill of late; and am very low at present from the loss of\nblood which they have drawn from me. My friends would hinder me from\nreading; but my books and my pen are my only comfort and occupation; and\nwhile I am master of a drop of blood or of ink, I will joyfully spill it\nin the cause of my country. I am, Dear Sir,\n\n\"Your most obedient humble servant.\"\n\n\"_Ninewells, Feb. 16th, 1751._\"\n\n\nIn the following letter to Dr. Clephane, we find that the practical joke\non James Fraser, which seems to have given a good deal of employment to\nthe wits of a great philosopher, a learned physician, and a gallant\ncolonel, is still a matter which Hume has very much at heart; while at\nthe same time he seems to have been amusing himself with some other\njocular effusions. The letter presents us with his first commemoration\nof the poetical genius of his friend, John Home, though it gives no\nforecast of the zeal with which he subsequently advocated his\ncountryman's claims to originality and high genius. The dramatic critic\nwill probably feel an interest in the light thrown on Hume's\nappreciation of Shakspere by the manner in which his name is connected\nwith that of Racine.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Ninewells, near Berwick, 18th February, 1751._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I will not pay you so bad a compliment as to say I was\nnot angry with you for neglecting me so long; that would be to suppose I\nwas indifferent whether I had any share in your memory or friendship.\nHowever, since there is nothing in it but the old vice of indolence,\n\n     Non ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco.\n\nEd io anche s\u00f3no Pittore, as Correggio said; I am therefore resolved to\nforgive you, and to keep myself in a proper disposition for saying the\nLord's prayer, whenever I shall find space enough for it.\n\n\"I must own I could not but think you excusable, even before you\ndisarmed me by your submission and penitence; 'tis so common an artifice\nfor provincials to hook on a correspondence with a Londoner, under\npretext of friendship and regard, that a jealousy on that head is very\npardonable in the latter. But I ought not to lie under that general\nsuspicion; for the fashionable songs I cannot sing; the present or the\nexpectant ministers I have no interest in; the old good books I have not\nyet all read or pondered sufficiently; and the current stories and _bon\nmots_, I would not repeat if I knew them. You see, therefore, that if I\nwere not concerned about Dr. Clephane, I never should desire to hear\nfrom him, and consequently that a line of his would be equally\nacceptable whether it comes from London or Crookhaven.\n\n\"I have executed your desire and the Colonel's as well as I could, but\nhave not, I believe, succeeded so well as last year: the subject,\nindeed, was exhausted, and the patient may justly, I fear, be esteemed\nincurable. I leave you to manage the matter as you best can: but I beg\nof you to conduct it, so as not to make a quarrel betwixt Fraser and me;\nhe is an honest, good-humoured, friendly, pleasant fellow, (though, it\nmust be confessed, a little turbulent and impetuous,) and I should be\nsorry to disoblige him. The Colonel would be heartily bit, if by this or\nany other means Fraser should be cured of his politics and patriotism;\nall his friends would lose a great deal of diversion, and certainly\nwould not like him near so well, if he were more cool and reasonable,\nand moderate, and prudent. But these are vices he is in no manner of\ndanger of. Is it likely that reason will prevail against nature, habit,\ncompany, education, and prejudice? I leave you to judge.\n\n\"But since I am in the humour of displaying my wit, I must tell you that\nlately, at an idle hour, I wrote a sheet called the Bellman's Petition:\nwherein (if I be not partial, which I certainly am,) there was some good\npleasantry and satire. The Printers in Edinburgh refused to print it, (a\ngood sign, you'll say, of _my_ prudence and discretion.) Mr. Mure, the\nmember, has a copy of it; ask it of him if you meet with him, or bid the\nColonel, who sees him every day at the house, ask it, and if you like it\nread it to the General, and then return it. I will not boast, for I have\nno manner of vanity; but when I think of the present dulness of London,\nI cannot forbear exclaiming,\n\n     Rome n'est pas dans Rome,\n     C'est par tout o\u00f9 je suis.\n\nA namesake of mine has wrote a Tragedy, which he expects to come on this\nwinter.[316:1] I have not seen it, but some people commend it much. 'Tis\nvery likely to meet with success, and not to deserve it, for the author\ntells me, he is a great admirer of Shakspere, and never read Racine.\n\n\"When I take a second perusal of your letter, I find you resemble the\nPapists, who deal much in penitence, but neglect extremely _les bonnes\noeuvres_. I asked you a question with regard to the plans of ancient\nbuildings in Dr. Mead's collection.[316:2] Pray, are they authentic\nenough to be cited in a discourse of erudition and reasoning? have they\nnever been published in any collection? and what are the proper terms in\nwhich I ought to cite them? I know you are a great proficient in the\n_virtu_, and consequently can resolve my doubts. This word I suppose you\npretend to speak with an (e), which I own is an improvement: but\nadmitting your orthography, you must naturally have a desire of doing a\ngood-natured action, and instructing the ignorant.\n\n\"It appears to me that apothecaries bear the same relation to\nphysicians, that priests do to philosophers; the ignorance of the former\nmakes them positive, and dogmatical, and assuming, and enterprising, and\npretending, and consequently much more taking with the people. Follow my\nexample--let us not trouble ourselves about the matter; let the one\nstuff the beasts' guts with antimony, and the other their heads with\ndivinity, what is that to us? according to the Greek proverb, they are\nno more, but as \u03b5\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b7\u03bd \u03b1\u03bc\u03b9\u03b4\u03b1 \u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd\u03c4\u03b5\u03c2.\n\n\"You may tell me, indeed, that I mistake the matter quite; that it is\nnot your kindness for the people, which makes you concerned, but\nsomething else. In short, that if self-interest were not in the case,\nthey might take clysters, and physic, and ipecacuanha, till they were\ntired of them. Now, dear Doctor, this mercenary way of thinking I never\ncould have suspected you of, and am heartily ashamed to find you of such\na temper.\n\n\"If you answer this any time within the twelve months 'tis sufficient,\nand I promise not to answer you next at less than six months' interval;\nand so, as the Germans say, je me recomante a fos ponnes craces. Yours,\n&c.\"\n\n\nThe \"Bellman's Petition,\" more than once alluded to in Hume's letters,\nis a little jeu d'esprit, to which he seems to have attributed far more\nthan its due importance. The clergy and schoolmasters of Scotland were\nthen appealing to the legislature for an increase of their incomes; and\nin this production, Hume, in a sort of parody on the representation of\nthese reverend and learned bodies, shows that bell-ringers have the\nsame, or even greater claims on the liberality of the public. It is\nperhaps a little too like the original, of which it professes to be a\nparody; and though it has some wit, is deficient in the bitter ridicule,\nwhich Swift would have thrown into such an effort. The following are\nsome passages:--\n\n\"That as your petitioners serve in the quality of grave-diggers, the\ngreat use and necessity of their order, in every well regulated\ncommonwealth, has never yet been called in question by any reasoner; an\nadvantage they possess above their brethren the reverend clergy.\n\n\"That their usefulness is as extensive as it is great, for even those\nwho neglect religion or despise learning, must yet, some time or other,\nstand in need of the good offices of this grave and venerable order.\n\n\"That it seems impossible the landed gentry can oppose the interest of\nyour petitioners; since, by securing so perfectly as they have hitherto\ndone, the persons of the fathers and elder brothers of the foresaid\ngentry, your petitioners, next after the physicians, are the persons in\nthe world, to whom the present proprietors of land are the most\nbeholden.\n\n\"That, as your petitioners are but half ecclesiastics, it may be\nexpected they will not be altogether unreasonable nor exorbitant in\ntheir demands.\n\n\"That the present poverty of your petitioners in this kingdom is a\nscandal to all religion; it being easy to prove, that a modern bellman\nis not more richly endowed than a primitive apostle, and consequently\npossesseth not the twentieth part of the revenues belonging to a\npresbyterian clergyman.\n\n\"That whatever freedom the profane scoffers, and free thinkers of the\nage, may use with our reverend brethren the clergy, the boldest of them\ntremble when they think of us; and that a simple reflection on us has\nreformed more lives than all the sermons in the world.\n\n\"That the instrumental music allotted to your petitioners, being the\nonly music of that kind left in our truly reformed churches, is a\nnecessary prelude to the vocal music of the schoolmaster and minister,\nand is by many esteemed equally significant and melodious.\n\n\"That your petitioners trust the honourable house will not despise them\non account of the present meanness of their condition; for, having heard\na learned man say that the cardinals, who are now princes, were once\nnothing but the parish curates of Rome, your petitioners, observing the\nsame laudable measures to be now prosecuted, despair not of being, one\nday, on a level with the nobility and gentry of these realms.\"\n\nThe petition of which this is a specimen, is accompanied by a letter,\nsigned \"Zerubabel Macgilchrist, Bellman of Buckhaven;\" who kindly says\nto the members of parliament he addresses, that the brother to whom is\nallotted \"the comfortable task of doing you the last service in our\npower, shall do it so carefully, that you never shall find reason to\ncomplain of him.\"[319:1]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[272:1] \"By the author of The Essays Moral and Political,\" 8vo. Printed\nfor Andrew Millar. Hume's complaints about the obscurity of all his\nbooks anterior to the \"Political Discourses\" and the History, seem to be\nconfirmed by the absence of this Edition in places where such books are\nexpected to be found. It is not in The Advocates' or The Signet\nlibraries in Edinburgh, nor is it to be found in the catalogues of the\nBritish Museum or Bodleyan. Did I not possess the book, I might have\nfound it difficult to obtain an authenticated copy of the title-page. It\nis not mentioned in Watt's Bibliotheca; but it will be found correctly\nset forth in a German bibliographical work, infinitely superior to any\nwe possess in this country, but unfortunately not completed. Adelung's\nSupplement to J\u00f6chers Allgemeines Gelehrten Lexicon. It appears in the\n_Gentleman's Magazine_, list of books for April.\n\n[273:1] \"A Free Inquiry into the miraculous powers, which are supposed\nto have subsisted in the Christian Church, from the earliest ages\nthrough several successive centuries,\" by Conyers Middleton, D.D.\nLondon, 1748-1749, 4to.\n\nIt was encountered by a perfect hurricane of controversial tracts, which\nfill all the book lists of the time.\n\n[278:1] Inquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. viii.\n\n[283:1] This matter seems on another occasion to have passed under his\nown view. In the \"Dialogues concerning Natural Religion\" he makes Philo\nsay, \"Strong and almost incontestable proofs may be traced over the\nwhole earth, that every part of this globe has continued for many ages\nentirely covered with water. And though order were supposed inseparable\nfrom matter, and inherent in it, yet may matter be susceptible of many\nand great revolutions through the endless periods of eternal duration.\"\nThat even Hume's argument makes allowance for miracles having some time\nor other existed, and that it can only be urged against this or that\nindividual statement of an unnatural occurrence, is the weapon which\nCampbell wields with chief effect in his admirable dissertation.\n\n[284:1] \"Let us try how his manner of argument on this point can be\napplied to a particular instance. For this purpose I make the following\nsupposition. I have lived for some years near a ferry. It consists with\nmy knowledge that the passage boat has a thousand times crossed the\nriver, and as many times returned safe. An unknown man, whom I have just\nnow met, tells me in a serious manner that it is lost; and affirms, that\nhe himself, standing on the bank, was a spectator of the scene; that he\nsaw the passengers carried down the stream and the boat overwhelmed. No\nperson, who is influenced in his judgment of things, not by\nphilosophical subtleties, but by common sense, a much surer guide, will\nhesitate to declare, that in such a testimony I have probable evidence\nof the fact asserted.\"--Dissertation on Miracles, 46-47.\n\n[285:1] Perhaps the earliest in date of these is, \"An Essay on Mr.\nHume's Essay on Miracles,\" by William Adams, M.A. chaplain to the Bishop\nof Llandaff, 1751.\n\n[285:2] Warburton says to Hurd, on 28th September, 1749,--\"I am strongly\ntempted to have a stroke at Hume in passing. He is the author of a\nlittle book called 'Philosophical Essays;' in one part of which he\nargues against the being of a God, and in another (very needlessly you\nwill say,) against the possibility of miracles. He has crowned the\nliberty of the press: and yet he has a considerable post under the\ngovernment. I have a great mind to do justice on his arguments against\nmiracles, which I think might be done in a few words. But does he\ndeserve notice? Is he known among you? Pray answer these questions. For\nif his own weight keeps him down, I should be sorry to contribute to his\nadvancement to any place but the pillory.\" Letters from a late Rev.\nprelate to one of his friends, 1808, p. 11.\n\n[286:1] Sect. iii.\n\n[287:1] Preliminary Dissertation, Note T.\n\n[287:2] \"Quandoque remeniscitur aliquis incipiens ab aliqua re, cujus\nmemoratur, a qu\u00e2 procedit ad alium triplici ratione. Quandoque quidem\nratione similitudinis, sicut quando aliquis memoratur de Socrate, et per\nhoc, occurrit ei Plato, qui est similis ei in sapientia; quandoque vero\nratione contrarietatis, sicut si aliquis memoretur Hectoris, et per hoc\noccurrit ei Achilles. Quandoque vero ratione propinquitatis cujuscunque,\nsicut cum aliquis memor est patris, et per hoc occurrit ei filius. Et\neadem ratio est de quacunque alia propinquitate, vel societatis, vel\nloci, vel temporis, et propter hoc fit reminiscentia quia motus horum se\ninvicem consequuntur.\"--_Aquinatis Comment. in Aristot. de Memoria et\nRemeniscentia_; _edit. Paris_, 1660, p. 64. The scope of Aquinas'\nremarks have more reference to mnemonics or artificial memory than to\nassociation. They explain how a man, remembering what he did yesterday,\nmay pass to the remembrance of what he did the day before, &c.\n\n[288:1] See Dr. Brown's commentary on the history of theories of\nassociation, in his thirty-fourth Lecture. Sir William Hamilton, the\nhighest living authority on these subjects, while he thinks that\nAristotle has not got justice for the extent to which he has anticipated\nHume and others in relation to this matter, does not think there is the\nslightest ground for the charge of plagiarism, and observes to me that\nColeridge's own remarks on association are merely an adaptation from the\nGerman of Maas.\n\n[289:1] 8vo, printed for A. Millar. It is in the _Gentleman's Magazine_\nlist for November.\n\n[289:2] See p. 136.\n\n[290:1] _Babylonii maxime in vinum, et qu\u00e6 ebrietatem sequuntur, effusi\nsunt._ Quint. Cur. lib. v. cap. 1.\n\n[290:2] Plut. Symp. lib. i. qu\u00e6st. 4.\n\n[291:1] From the circumstances to be immediately stated regarding this\nevent, it seems to have taken place while Hume was on his way back from\nTurin. In a search in _The Scots Magazine_, and other quarters where one\nmight expect to find mention of the decease of a person in the rank of\nthe lady of Ninewells, I have not been able to ascertain the precise\ndate.\n\n[293:1] Quarterly Review, xvi. 279.\n\n[294:1] There is a traditional anecdote, to the effect that Mrs. Hume,\nexpressing her opinion of her son David and his accomplishments, said,\n\"Our Davie's a fine good-natured crater, but uncommon wake-minded.\" I\nhave heard this adduced as a proof of the philosopher's gentle, passive\nnature, and the effect it had in stamping an impression of his character\non one not capable of appreciating his genius. But the anecdote is not\ncharacteristic of either party, and arises out of the common mistake\nthat Hume was all his life tame, phlegmatic, and unimpassioned. However\nmuch he had tutored himself to stoicism, and had succeeded in conquering\nthe outward demonstrations of strong feelings, it will be seen in\nvarious documents quoted in these volumes, and in the incidents\nnarrated, that he was a man of strong impulses, full of blood and nerve,\nand that, as in a high-mettled horse, his energies were regulated, not\nextinguished. No one who had the training of his youth could have\nescaped observing in him the workings of strong aspirations, and of a\nhardy resolute temper.\n\nBut Mrs. Hume was evidently an accomplished woman, worthy of the\nsympathy and respect of her distinguished son, and could not have failed\nto see and to appreciate from its earliest dawnings the originality and\npower of his intellect. Her portrait, which I have seen, represents a\nthin but pleasing countenance, expressive of great intellectual\nacuteness. Some verses, which a lady, who is her direct descendant,\nauthenticates as being in her handwriting, are in the curious collection\nof autographs and illustrated portraits, in the possession of Mr. W. F.\nWatson, Prince's Street, Edinburgh. It has been supposed that they are\nthe composition of David Hume himself; but the use of the Scottish\nlanguage almost amounts to evidence against that supposition: he would\nas readily have walked the streets of Edinburgh in a kilt. The lines are\ncalled \"Song.--Air, Mary's Dream,\" and begin--\n\n     What now avails the flowery dream,\n       That animates my youthful mind,\n     My Mary's vows are all a whim,\n       Her plighted troth as light as wind.\n\n     O Mary, dearer than the day\n       That cheers the nighted wanderer's ee,\n     Through ance-loved scenes I lonely stray,\n       But lovely Mary's far frae me.\n\n     What now avails the beachen grove,\n       Or willow in its cloak o' gray,\n     Those scenes 'twas sacred ance to love,\n       Now fills my heart in grief and wae.\n\n     O Mary, &c.\n\nPerhaps this may be as good an opportunity as any other for the\ninsertion of some lines, carefully preserved in the MSS. R.S.E., which\nare at least so far to the present purpose, that they give a pleasing\nidea of the social circle at Ninewells. They are addressed to a lady who\nhad lived to see her grandchildren; which does not appear to have been\nthe case with the mother of the historian, as her eldest son was not\nmarried till 1751. A dowager of an elder generation may have lived for\nsome time at Ninewells during David Hume's youth, though he does not\nmention her: or there may have been some collateral member of the\nfamily, to whom the lines may have been addressed; for, in a series of\nextracts which I have obtained from the Kirk Session Records of\nChirnside, I find that a David Home _in_ Ninewells, who cannot have been\na lineal ancestor of the philosopher, had a numerous family baptized\nbetween 1691 and 1701. The lines are entitled \"Miss A. B. to Mrs. H. by\nher Black Boy;\" and however the genealogical questions, we have just\nbeen considering, may stand, their intrinsic merit, as embodying a\nbeautiful and humane sentiment, entitle them to notice.--Query, is it to\nthis alone, or to some extrinsic interest attached to Miss A. B. that we\nare to attribute the careful preservation of the lines by Hume?\n\n     Condemn'd in infancy a slave to roam,\n     Far far from India's shore, my native home,\n     To serve a Caledonian maid I come--\n     In me no father does his darling mourn--\n     No mother weeps me from her bosom torn--\n     Both grew to dust, they say to earth below;\n     But who those were, alas, I ne'er shall know.\n     Lady, to thee her love my mistress sends,\n     And bids thy grandsons be Ferdnando's friends.\n     Bids thee suppose, on Afric's distant coast,\n     One of those lily-coloured favourites lost;\n     Doom'd in the train of some proud dame to wait,\n     A slave, as she should will, for use or state.\n     If to the boy you'd wish her to be kind,\n     Such grace from you let Ferdinando find.\n\n[296:1] Hom. Il. \u03bb. 515. A medical man is equal in value to many other\nmen. Or, as Pope has it,\n\n     A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal,\n     Is more than armies to the public weal.\n\n[297:1]\n\n                   ----ubi non et multa supersunt,\n     Et dominum fallunt, et prosunt furibus.\n\n                                       Hor. epist. i. 6, 45.\n\n[298:1] See this passage nearly verbatim in the \"Essay on the\nPopulousness of Ancient Nations,\" (Works, edit. 1826, p. 483.) Much\nlight has of course been subsequently thrown on this matter by the\ninvestigations in Pompeii, and other places.\n\n[298:2] London was kept in much excitement, during the year 1750, by\nrepeated shocks of earthquake. Horace Walpole says, on 11th March, \"In\nthe night between Wednesday and Thursday last, (exactly a month since\nthe first shock,) the earth had a shivering fit between one and two; but\nso slight that, if no more had followed, I don't believe it would have\nbeen noticed. I had been awake, and had scarce dosed again. On a sudden\nI felt my bolster lift up my head: I thought somebody was getting from\nunder my bed, but soon found it was a strong earthquake, that lasted\nnear half a minute, with a violent vibration and great roaring. I rang\nmy bell; my servant came in, frightened out of his senses. In an instant\nwe heard all the windows in the neighbourhood flung up. I got up, and\nfound people running into the streets; but saw no mischief done. There\nhas been some: two old houses flung down, several chimneys, and much\nchina ware.\"--Letters to Sir H. Man, ii. 349.\n\n\"Dick Leveson and Mr. Rigby, who had supped and staid late at Bedford\nHouse, the other night, knocked at several doors, and in a watchman's\nvoice cried, 'Past four o'clock, and a dreadful earthquake.'\"--Ib. 354.\n\n[299:1] \"There has been a shower of sermons and exhortations. Secker,\nthe jesuitical Bishop of Oxford, begun the mode. He heard the women were\nall going out of town to avoid the next shock: and so, for fear of\nlosing his Easter offerings, he set himself to advise them to wait God's\ngood pleasure, in fear and trembling. But, what is more astonishing,\nSherlock, [Bishop of London,] who has much better sense, and much less\nof the popish confessor, has been running a race with him for the old\nladies, and has written a Pastoral Letter, of which ten thousand were\nsold in two days, and fifty thousand have been subscribed for since the\ntwo first editions.\"--Ib. 353.\n\n[300:1] A second edition of the \"Essays concerning Human Understanding,\"\nwas published by Millar in 1751, with the author's name. One of these\nessays, which, in the first edition, had the title, \"Of the Practical\nConsequences of Natural Religion,\" but, in the second, received a much\nless appropriate title, and one likely to make its tenor, as applicable\nto the reasonings of philosophers anterior to Christianity, be\nmisunderstood. It was called, \"Of a Particular Providence, and Future\nState.\"\n\n[300:2] Colonel Abercromby. See above, p. 222.\n\n[300:3] Colonel Edmonstoune.\n\n[301:1] Probably \"The Bellman's Petition,\" mentioned p. 317.\n\n[301:2] From the original at Kilravock.\n\n[304:1] Memorials of Oswald, p. 65.\n\n[304:2] Two vols. 8vo, Hamilton and Balfour. The productions of the\nScottish press, in the middle period of last century, deserve to be\nlooked back upon with respect; and the excellence of its matter at that\ntime, will go far to balance its present fertility. It was not only as a\nvehicle of native genius, that it was respectable. Besides the eminent\neditions of the classics by the Ruddimans and the Foulises, it supplied\nhandsome editions of celebrated foreign works; a sure indication that it\nwas surrounded by a large class of well educated readers.\n\n[306:1] The following placard is, in the circumstances, a master-stroke\nin its simplicity and ingenuity.\n\n\n\"AUX ELECTEURS TR\u00c8S DIGNES DE WESTMINSTER.\n\n     \"MESSIEURS,--Vos suffrages et inter\u00eats sont desir\u00e9s pour Le\n     Tr\u00e8s Hon. mi Lord TRENTHAM, un V\u00c9RITABLE Anglois.\n\n     \"N. B.--L'on prie ses Amis de ses rendre a l'h\u00f4tel Fran\u00e7ois\n     dans le March\u00e9 au Foin.\"\n\nThe following acrostic is a specimen of the poetic lucubrations of the\nVandeput party:--\n\n     \"T ruant to thy promis'd trust;\n      R ebel daring where thou durst,\n      E ager to promote French strollers,\n      N one but poltroons are thy pollers.\n\n      T ribes of nose-led clerks and placemen,\n      H ackney voters, (bribes disgrace men,)\n      A ll forswear, through thick and thin,\n      M eanness theirs, but thine the sin.\"\n\nThis election gave birth to some incidents apparently trifling, which\nyet make a material figure in British history, from their connexion\nwith the vindication of the privileges of the House of Commons. The\nHonourable Alexander Murray, brother of Lord Elibank, a gentleman who\nwill probably be again called up in a future part of these pages, was\ncharged along with Mr. Crowle, an attorney, and another person, with the\nuse of \"threatening and affronting expressions,\" by the high bailiff.\nThey were brought before the bar of the House, and after some discussion\nand inquiry, Crowle confessed, was submissive, received the usual\nreprimand on his knees, and wiped them when he rose, saying, it was \"the\ndirtiest house he had ever been in.\" Murray denied the charge, and\nresisted the House, \"smiled,\" as Walpole says, \"when he was taxed with\nhaving called Lord Trentham and the high bailiff, rascals,\" and,\nfinally, refused to kneel, saying, \"Sir, I beg to be excused, I never\nkneel but to God.\" Then followed imprisonment, and embarrassing\nquestions about the prisoner's health, which, sinking under his\nself-inflicted imprisonment, reproached those who could not turn back on\nthe course they had taken; the whole being rendered more complex by the\ndifficulty of finding a guiding rule in the precedents of the House,\nuntil parliament was adjourned; and he left Newgate in a triumphant\nprocession, proclaiming the device of \"Murray and Liberty.\"\n\n[307:1] Viz. in a volume of broadsides and other documents, in the\npossession of James Maidment, Esq. of which the pieces in the preceding\nnote are specimens. To show how such inquiries are beset by tantalizing\ncoincidences, there are two James Frasers mentioned on the Trentham\nside, one of them having after his name on a printed list of voters, the\nsignificant MS. notandum, \"Don't pay.\"\n\n[307:2] P. 223.\n\n[308:1] A gentleman of the same name connected with the Lovat family,\nwas for some time an apothecary in London, where he lived \"the life of a\ngenuine London bachelor;\" he was a keen Jacobite, and died about 1760.\n_Note communicated by Captain Fraser, Knockie_, who also mentions\nanother James Fraser, who was commissioner of the navy during the\nrevolutionary war, and settled in London in 1781; but this appears to\nhave been a person of a later generation than Hume's friend.\n\n[310:1] Gunpowder.\n\n[310:2] In allusion, probably, to Sir John Hynd Cotton.\n\n[310:3] In allusion to Sir George Vandeput.\n\n[310:4] In allusion, probably, to Fraser's own family.\n\n[311:1] Earl Gower, and his son Lord Trentham.\n\n[316:1] Probably \"Agis,\" which appears to have been written before\n\"Douglas.\"\n\n[316:2] See above, p. 298.\n\n[319:1] Printed sheet in the possession of James Maidment, Esq. \"The\nBellman's Petition,\" has been reprinted in a curious collection of\nscraps, called \"A Scots Haggis,\" the editor of which does not however\nappear to have known that Hume was the author of this piece.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n1751-1752. \u00c6T. 40-41.\n\n     Sir Gilbert Elliot--Hume's intimacy with him--Their\n     Philosophical Correspondence--Dialogues on Natural Religion--\n     Residence in Edinburgh--Jack's Land--Publication of the\n     \"Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals\"--The Utilitarian\n     Theory--Attempt to obtain the Chair of Moral Philosophy in\n     Glasgow--Competition with Burke--Publication of the \"Political\n     Discourses\"--The foundation of Political Economy--French\n     Translations.\n\n\nForemost in that body of accomplished gentlemen, whose friendship and\ncompanionship afforded to Hume so much pleasure and instruction, was\nMr. afterwards Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto. A small portion of the\nletters, of which their correspondence consists, has already been\nembodied in philosophical literature;[320:1] and I have now, through the\nfavour of the noble descendant of the person to whom they were\naddressed, an opportunity of presenting the reader with all those\nportions of Hume's letters to Sir Gilbert Elliot, now existing, which\nhave any claim on public attention, whether as containing valuable\nphilosophical speculations, or throwing light on the social habits and\nintercourse of the two distinguished correspondents.[320:2]\n\nSir Gilbert Elliot was the third baronet of the family of Minto, who\nbore the same Christian name.[320:3] He joined the Scottish bar, though\nhe does not seem to have sought professional practice.\n\nHe was, for a considerable period, a member of Parliament, and among\nother offices held that of treasurer of the navy.[321:1] In lighter\nliterature he is known as the author of some pretty pieces of poetry,\namong which, the popular song of \"My Sheep I neglected,\" is well\nesteemed by the admirers of pastoral lyrics. His acquirements as a\nscholar and philosopher are amply attested by his correspondence with\nHume.\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Ninewells, near Berwick, 10th February, 1751._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--About six weeks ago, I gave our friend, Jack Stuart, the\ntrouble of delivering you a letter, and some papers enclosed, which I\nwas desirous to submit to your criticism and examination. I say not this\nby way of compliment and ceremonial, but seriously and in good earnest:\nit is pretty usual for people to be pleased with their own performance,\nespecially in the heat of composition; but I have scarcely wrote any\nthing more whimsical, or whose merit I am more diffident of.\n\n\"But, in sending in these papers, I am afraid that I have not taken the\nbest step towards conveying them to your hand. I should also have wrote\nyou to ask for them, otherwise, perhaps, our friend may wear them out in\nhis pocket, and forget the delivery of them: be so good, therefore, as\nto desire them from him, and having read them at your leisure, return\nthem to him in a packet, and he will send them to me by the carrier. You\nwould easily observe what I mentioned to you, that they had a reference\nto some other work, and were not complete in themselves: but, with this\nallowance, are they tolerable?\"[322:1]\n\n\nThe paper to which the following letter refers, was published as an\nappendix to the \"Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals,\" to be\nshortly noticed, and was simply termed, \"A Dialogue.\" It is, perhaps,\nmore imaginative than any other of Hume's works, \"The Epicurean\" not\nexcepted. It draws startling contrasts, by taking from ancient and\nmodern times, two communities of men strikingly opposed to each other in\nhabits, and describing those of the one in the social language of the\nother. In this manner, it gives an account of the vices of the Greeks,\nin the manner in which they would be described by a modern fashionable\nEnglishman, seeking pleasure and companionship in Greece, as it was in\nthe days of Alcibiades. This method of exhibiting national manners\nthrough the magnifying glass of national prejudices, has, in later\ntimes, been frequently adopted,[322:2] and, perhaps, owes its popularity\nto the success with which it was exhibited in Montesquieu's \"Lettres\nPersanes,\" and Goldsmith's \"Citizen of the World.\"\n\n\nGILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto, to_ HUME.\n\n     _February, 1751._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I have read over your Dialogue, with all the\n     application I am master of. Though I have never looked into\n     any thing of your writing, which did not either entertain or\n     instruct me; yet, I must freely own to you, that I have\n     received from this last piece an additional satisfaction, and\n     what indeed I have a thousand times wished for in some of your\n     other performances. In the first part of this work, you have\n     given full scope to the native bent of your genius. The\n     ancients and moderns, how opposite soever in other respects,\n     equally combine in favour of the most unbounded scepticism.\n     Principles, customs, and manners, the most contradictory, all\n     seemingly lead to the same end; and agreeably to your laudable\n     practice, the poor reader is left in the most disconsolate\n     state of doubt and uncertainty. When I had got thus far, what\n     do you think were my sentiments? I will not be so candid as to\n     tell you; but how agreeable was my surprise, when I found you\n     had led me into this maze, with no other view, than to point\n     out to me more clearly the direct road. Why can't you always\n     write in this manner? Indulge yourself as much as you will in\n     starting difficulties, and perplexing received opinions: but\n     let us be convinced at length, that you have not less ability\n     to establish true principles, than subtlety to detect false\n     ones. This unphilosophical, or, if you will, this lazy\n     disposition of mine, you are at liberty to treat as you think\n     proper; yet am I no enemy to free inquiry, and I would gladly\n     flatter myself, no slave to prejudice or authority. I admit\n     also that there is no writing or talking of any subject that\n     is of importance enough to become the object of reasoning,\n     without having recourse to some degree of subtlety or\n     refinement. The only question is, where to stop,--how far we\n     can go, and why no farther. To this question I should be\n     extremely happy to receive a satisfactory answer. I can't tell\n     if I shall rightly express what I have just now in my mind:\n     but I often imagine to myself, that I perceive within me a\n     certain instinctive feeling, which shoves away at once all\n     subtle refinements, and tells me with authority, that these\n     air-built notions are inconsistent with life and experience,\n     and, by consequence cannot be true or solid. From this I am\n     led to think, that the speculative principles of our nature\n     ought to go hand in hand with the practical ones; and, for my\n     own part, when the former are so far pushed, as to leave the\n     latter quite out of sight, I am always apt to suspect that we\n     have transgressed our limits. If it should be asked--how far\n     will these practical principles go? I can only answer, that\n     the former difficulty will recur, unless it be found that\n     there is something in the intellectual part of our nature,\n     resembling the moral sentiment in the moral part of our\n     nature, which determines this, as it were, instinctively. Very\n     possibly I have wrote nonsense. However, this notion first\n     occurred to me at London, in conversation with a man of some\n     depth of thinking; and talking of it since to your friend H.\n     Home, he seems to entertain some notions nearly of the same\n     kind, and to have pushed them much farther.\n\n     This is but an idle digression, so I return to the Dialogue.\n\n     With regard to the composition in general, I have nothing to\n     observe, as it appears to me to be conducted with the greatest\n     propriety, and the artifice in the beginning occasions, I\n     think, a very agreeable surprise. I don't know, if, in the\n     account of the modern manners, you [had] an eye to Bruyere's\n     introduction to his translation of Theophrastes.[324:1] If you\n     had not, as he has a thought handled pretty much in that\n     manner, perhaps looking into it might furnish some farther\n     hints to embellish that part of your work.[324:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Ninewells, 19th February, 1751._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--Your notion of correcting subtlety of sentiment, is\ncertainly very just with regard to morals, which depend upon sentiment;\nand in politics and natural philosophy, whatever conclusion is contrary\nto certain matters of fact, must certainly be wrong, and there must\nsome error lie somewhere in the argument, whether we be able to show it\nor not. But in metaphysics or theology, I cannot see how either of these\nplain and obvious standards of truth can have place. Nothing there can\ncorrect bad reasoning but good reasoning, and sophistry must be opposed\nby syllogisms. About seventy or eighty years ago, I observe, a principle\nlike that which you advance prevailed very much in France among some\nphilosophers and _beaux esprits_. The occasion of it was this: The\nfamous Mons. Nicole of the Port Royal, in his _Perp\u00e9tuit\u00e9 de la\nFoi_,[325:1] pushed the Protestants very hard upon the impossibility of\nthe people's reaching a conviction of their religion by the way of\nprivate judgment; which required so many disquisitions, reasonings,\nresearches, eruditions, impartiality, and penetration, as not one in a\nhundred even among men of education, is capable of. Mons. Claude and the\nProtestants answered him, not by solving his difficulties, (which seems\nimpossible,) but by retorting them, (which is very easy.) They showed\nthat to reach the way of authority which the Catholics insist on, as\nlong a train of acute reasoning, and as great erudition, was requisite,\nas would be sufficient for a Protestant. We must first prove all the\ntruths of natural religion, the foundation of morals, the divine\nauthority of the Scripture, the deference which it commands to the\nchurch, the tradition of the church, &c. The comparison of these\ncontroversial writings begot an idea in some, that it was neither by\nreasoning nor authority we learn our religion, but by sentiment: and\ncertainly this were a very convenient way, and what a philosopher would\nbe very well pleased to comply with, if he could distinguish sentiment\nfrom education. But to all appearance the sentiment of Stockholm,\nGeneva, Rome ancient and modern, Athens and Memphis, have the same\ncharacters; and no sensible man can implicitly assent to any of them,\nbut from the general principle, that as the truth in these subjects is\nbeyond human capacity, and that as for one's own ease he must adopt some\ntenets, there is most satisfaction and convenience in holding to the\nCatholicism we have been first taught. Now this I have nothing to say\nagainst. I have only to observe, that such a conduct is founded on the\nmost universal and determined scepticism, joined to a little indolence;\nfor more curiosity and research gives a direct opposite turn from the\nsame principles.\n\n\"I have amused myself lately with an essay or dissertation on the\npopulousness of antiquity, which led me into many disquisitions\nconcerning both the public and domestic life of the ancients. Having\nread over almost all the classics both Greek and Latin, since I formed\nthat plan, I have extracted what served most to my purpose. But I have\nnot a Strabo, and know not where to get one in this neighbourhood. He is\nan author I never read. I know your library--I mean the Advocates'--is\nscrupulous of lending classics; but perhaps that difficulty may be got\nover. I should be much obliged to you, if you could procure me the loan\nof a copy, either in the original language or even in a good\ntranslation.\n\n\"The Greeks had military dances, particularly the Pyrrhicha; but these\nwere not practised in their festivals nor amidst their jollity. Their\nway of dancing was very good for an indolent fellow; for commonly they\nrose not from their seats, but moved their arms and head in cadence.\n'Tis difficult to imagine there could be much grace in that kind of\ndancing.\n\n\"I send you enclosed a little endeavour at drollery, against some people\nwho care not much to be joked upon.[327:1] I have frequently had it in\nmy intentions to write a supplement to Gulliver, containing the ridicule\nof priests. 'Twas certainly a pity that Swift was a parson; had he been\na lawyer or physician, we had nevertheless been entertained at the\nexpense of these professions: but priests are so jealous, that they\ncannot bear to be touched on that head, and for a plain reason, because\nthey are conscious they are really ridiculous. That part of the Doctor's\nsubject is so fertile, that a much inferior genius I am confident might\nsucceed in it.\n\n\"Tell Jack Stuart, as soon as you see him, that I have sent you the\ncopy, if he can make any thing of it. I intended to have had it printed,\nbut I know not how--I find it will not do. If you like the thing, I wish\nyou would contrive together some way of getting over the difficulties\nthat have arisen, the most strangely in the world. I am, &c.\"[327:2]\n\n\nAmong the papers submitted to the inspection of Mr. Elliot, were the\n\"Dialogues concerning Natural Religion,\" which were not published until\nafter their author's death, but which the following letter shows to have\nbeen written before the year 1751. The manuscript of this work[328:1] is\nfull of emendations and corrections; and while the sentiments appear to\nbe substantially the same as when they were first set down, the\nalterations in the method of announcing them are a register of the\nimprovements in their author's style, for a period apparently of\ntwenty-seven years. Here at least he could not plead the excuse of youth\nand indiscretion. The work, penned in the full vigour of his faculties,\ncomes to us with the sanction of his mature years, and his approval when\nhe was within sight of the grave. Whatever sentiments, therefore, in\nthis work, may be justly found to excite censure, carry with them a\nreproach from which their author's name cannot escape.\n\nThe Dialogues are written with a solemn simplicity of tone worthy of the\ncharacter of the subject. The structure is in a great measure that of\nCicero, though there appears not, as there generally does in the\nconversations professed to be recorded by the Roman moralist, any one\nmind completely predominating over the others. Of the interlocutors,\nPhilo presents himself, at first as a materialist of the Spinoza school,\nwho finds that the material world has within itself the principles of\nits own motion and development--the operating causes that produce its\nphenomena; while he denies that these phenomena exhibit an all perfect\nstructure. He is not, however, a man of settled opinions, but rather a\nsceptical demolisher of other people's views; and we find him saying, \"I\nmust confess that I am less cautious on the subject of natural religion\nthan on any other; both because I know that I can never, on that head,\ncorrupt the principles of any man of common sense; and because no one, I\nam confident, in whose eyes I appear a man of common sense, will ever\nmistake my intentions. You in particular, Cleanthes, with whom I live in\nunreserved intimacy, you are sensible, that notwithstanding the freedom\nof my conversation, and my love of singular arguments, no one has a\ndeeper sense of religion impressed on his mind, or pays more profound\nadoration to the Divine Being, as he discovers himself to reason, in the\ninexplicable contrivance and artifice of nature.\"\n\nCleanthes, another speaker, has created a natural religion of his own--a\nsystem of Theism, in which, by induction from the beautiful order and\nmechanism of the world, he has reasoned himself into the belief of an\nall-wise and all-powerful Supreme Being. He holds, that \"the most\nagreeable reflection which it is possible for human imagination to\nsuggest, is that of genuine Theism, which represents us as the\nworkmanship of a being perfectly good, wise, and powerful, who created\nus for happiness; and who, having implanted in us immeasurable desires\nof good, will prolong our existence to all eternity, and will transfer\nus into an infinite variety of scenes, in order to satisfy those\ndesires, and render our felicity complete and durable.\" And, strangely\nenough, it is with this one that the author shows most sympathy, very\nnearly professing that the doctrine announced by Cleanthes is his own;\nwhile it will be found in his correspondence, that he admits his having\ndesignedly endeavoured to make the argument of that speaker the most\nattractive. This is another illustration of the inapplicability of\nperfectly abstract metaphysical disquisitions to religious faith; for,\nif there is any system of religion that is incompatible with Hume's\nmetaphysical opinions on ideas and impressions, it is a system that is,\nlike this of Cleanthes, the workmanship of human reason. The third\nspeaker, Demea, is a devoutly religious man, who, not venturing to\ncreate a system of belief for himself, sees in the order of the world\nsuch a merciful and wise dispensation of Divine Providence, as induces\nhim to receive the whole revealed scheme of religion without questioning\nthose parts of it which are beyond his comprehension, any more than he\nquestions those of which the wisdom and goodness are immediately\napparent.\n\nThe general scope and purport of the Dialogues are not unlike those of\nVoltaire's Jenni. In both, the argument on natural theology,\nillustrating the existence of a ruling mind from the general order and\nharmony of created things, is adduced, and is measured with its\ncounterpart, the argument from the imperfection of earthly things, and\nthe calamities and unhappiness of the beings standing at the head of the\nwhole social order, mankind. But in the mere similarity of the argument\nthe resemblance stops; no two performances can be more unlike each other\nin tone and spirit than the English sceptic's honest search after truth,\nand the French infidel's ribald sport with all that men love and revere.\nThe contrast may be found not only in these individual men, but in the\ntwo classes of thinkers at the head of which they respectively stood.\nHume represented the cautious conscientious inquiry, which has\nestablished many truths and gradually ameliorated social evils; the\nFrenchman directed that scornful, careless, and cruel sport with\nwhatever is dear and important to humanity, which one day bowed to\nabsolute despotism, and the next destroyed the whole fabric of social\norder.[331:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Ninewells, near Berwick, March 10, 1751._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--You would perceive by the sample I have given you, that I\nmake Cleanthes the hero of the dialogue: whatever you can think of, to\nstrengthen that side of the argument, will be most acceptable to me.\nAny propensity you imagine I have to the other side, crept in upon me\nagainst my will; and 'tis not long ago that I burned an old manuscript\nbook, wrote before I was twenty, which contained, page after page, the\ngradual progress of my thoughts on that head. It began with an anxious\nsearch after arguments, to confirm the common opinion; doubts stole in,\ndissipated, returned; were again dissipated, returned again; and it was\na perpetual struggle of a restless imagination against inclination,\nperhaps against reason.\n\n\"I have often thought, that the best way of composing a dialogue, would\nbe for two persons that are of different opinions about any question of\nimportance, to write alternately the different parts of the discourse,\nand reply to each other: by this means, that vulgar error would be\navoided, of putting nothing but nonsense into the mouth of the\nadversary; and at the same time, a variety of character and genius being\nupheld, would make the whole look more natural and unaffected. Had it\nbeen my good fortune to live near you, I should have taken on me the\ncharacter of Philo, in the dialogue, which you'll own I could have\nsupported naturally enough; and you would not have been averse to that\nof Cleanthes. I believe, too, we could both of us have kept our tempers\nvery well; only, you have not reached an absolute philosophical\nindifference on these points. What danger can ever come from ingenious\nreasoning and inquiry? The worst speculative sceptic ever I knew, was a\nmuch better man than the best superstitious devotee and bigot. I must\ninform you, too, that this was the way of thinking of the ancients on\nthis subject. If a man made a profession of philosophy, whatever his\nsect was, they always expected to find more regularity in his life and\nmanners, than in those of the ignorant and illiterate. There is a\nremarkable passage of Appian to this purpose. That historian observes,\nthat notwithstanding the established prepossession in favour of\nlearning, yet some philosophers, who have been trusted with absolute\npower, have very much abused it; and he instances Critias, the most\nviolent of the thirty, and Ariston, who governed Athens in the time of\nSylla: but I find, upon inquiry, that Critias was a professed Atheist,\nand Ariston an Epicurean, which is little or nothing different. And yet\nAppian wonders at their corruption, as much as if they had been Stoics\nor Platonists. A modern zealot would have thought that corruption\nunavoidable.\n\n\"I could wish Cleanthes' argument could be so analyzed, as to be\nrendered quite formal and regular. The propensity of the mind towards\nit,--unless that propensity were as strong and universal as that to\nbelieve in our senses and experience,--will still, I am afraid, be\nesteemed a suspicious foundation. 'Tis here I wish for your assistance;\nwe must endeavour to prove that this propensity is somewhat different\nfrom our inclination to find our own figures in the clouds, our faces in\nthe moon, our passions and sentiments even in inanimate matter. Such an\ninclination may, and ought to be controlled, and can never be a\nlegitimate ground of assent.\n\n\"The instances I have chosen for Cleanthes are, I hope, tolerably happy,\nand the confusion in which I represent the sceptic seems natural,\nbut--si quid novisti rectius, &c.\n\n\"You ask me, '_If the idea of cause and effect is nothing but\nvicinity_,' (you should have said constant vicinity, or, regular\nconjunction,) I should be glad to know _whence is that farther idea of\ncausation against which you argue_? This question is pertinent, but I\nhope I have answered it; we feel, after the constant conjunction, an\neasy transition from one idea to the other, or a connexion in the\nimagination; and as it is usual for us to transfer our own feelings to\nthe objects on which they are dependent, we attach the internal\nsentiment to the external objects. If no single instances of cause and\neffect appear to have any connexion, but only repeated similar ones, you\nwill find yourself obliged to have recourse to this theory.\n\n\"I am sorry our correspondence should lead us into these abstract\nspeculations. I have thought, and read, and composed very little on such\nquestions of late. Morals, Politics, and Literature have employed all my\ntime; but still the other topics I must think more curious, important,\nentertaining, and useful, than any geometry that is deeper than Euclid.\nIf in order to answer the doubts started, new principles of philosophy\nmust be laid, are not these doubts themselves very useful? Are they not\npreferable to blind, and ignorant assent? I hope I can answer my own\ndoubts; but if I could not, is it to be wondered at? To give myself\nairs, and speak magnificently, might I not observe, that Columbus did\nnot conquer empires and plant colonies?\n\n\"If I have not unravelled the knot so well, in those last papers I sent\nyou, as perhaps I did in the former, it has not, I assure you, proceeded\nfrom want of good will; but some subjects are easier than others: at\nsome times one is happier in his researches and inquiries than at\nothers. Still I have recourse to the _si quid novisti rectius_; not in\norder to pay you a compliment, but from a real philosophical doubt and\ncuriosity.[334:1]\n\n\"I do not pay compliments, because I do not desire them. For this\nreason, I am very well pleased you speak so coldly of my petition. I\nhad, however, given orders to have it printed, which perhaps may be\nexecuted, though I believe I had better have let it alone; not because\nit will give you offence, but because it will give no entertainment; not\nbecause it may be called profane, but because it may perhaps be\ndeservedly called dull. To tell the truth, I was always so indifferent\nabout fortune, and especially now, that I am more advanced in life, and\nam a little more at my ease, suited to my extreme frugality, that I\nneither fear nor hope any thing from man; and am very indifferent either\nabout offence or favour. Not only, I would not sacrifice truth and\nreason to political views, but scarce even a jest. You may tell me, I\nought to have reversed the order of these points, and put the jest\nfirst: as it is usual for people to be the fondest of their performances\non subjects on which they are least made to excel, and that,\nconsequently, I would give more to be thought a good droll, than to have\nthe praises of erudition, and subtilty, and invention.--This malicious\ninsinuation, I will give no answer to, but proceed with my subject.\n\n\"I find, however, I have no more to say on it, but to thank you for\n_Strabo_. If the carrier who will deliver this to you do not find you at\nhome, you will please send the book to his quarters; his name is Thomas\nHenderson, the Berwick carrier; he leaves town on the Thursdays, about\nthe middle of the day; he puts up at James Henderson, stabler, betwixt\nthe foot of Cant's Close and Blackfriar's Wynd. After you have done with\nthese papers, please return them by the same carrier; but there is no\nhurry; on the contrary the longer you keep them, I shall still believe\nyou are thinking the more seriously to execute what I desire of you. I\nam, dear Sir,\n\n\"Yours most sincerely.\"\n\n\"P.S.--If you'll be persuaded to assist me with Cleanthes, I fancy you\nneed not take matters any higher than part 3d. He allows, indeed, in\npart 2d, that all our inference is founded on the similitude of the\nworks of nature to the usual effects of mind, otherwise they must appear\na mere chaos. The only difficulty is, why the other assimilations do not\nweaken the argument; and indeed it would seem from experience and\nfeeling, that they do not weaken it so much as we might naturally\nexpect. A theory to solve this would be very acceptable.\"[336:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n1751.\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am sorry your keeping these papers has proceeded from\nbusiness and avocations, and not from your endeavours to clear up so\ndifficult an argument. I despair not, however, of getting some\nassistance from you; the subject is surely of the greatest importance,\nand the views of it so new as to challenge some attention.\n\n\"I believe the Philosophical Essays contain every thing of consequence\nrelating to the understanding, which you would meet with in the\nTreatise; and I give you my advice against reading the latter. By\nshortening and simplifying the questions, I really render them much more\ncomplete. _Addo dum minuo._ The philosophical principles are the same in\nboth; but I was carried away by the heat of youth and invention to\npublish too precipitately.--So vast an undertaking, planned before I was\none-and-twenty, and composed before twenty-five, must necessarily be\nvery defective. I have repented my haste a hundred, and a hundred times.\n\n\"I return Strabo, whom I have found very judicious and useful. I give\nyou a great many thanks for your trouble. I am,\" &c.\n\n\nHume's elder brother, John, the laird of Ninewells, was married in 1751;\nand the following letter, enlivened by touches of light and even elegant\nraillery, scarcely excelled in the writings of Addison, evidently refers\nto that event. The plan of life which he sets forth was afterwards\naltered, at least in so far as he had then in view a place of residence.\n\n\nHUME _to_ MRS. DYSART.[337:1]\n\n\"_Ninewells, March 19th, 1751._\n\n\"DEAR MADAM,--Our friend at last plucked up a resolution, and has\nventured on that dangerous encounter. He went off on Monday morning; and\nthis is the first action of his life wherein he has engaged himself,\nwithout being able to compute exactly the consequences. But what\narithmetic will serve to fix the proportion between good and bad wives,\nand rate the different classes of each? Sir Isaac Newton himself, who\ncould measure the course of the planets, and weigh the earth as in a\npair of scales,--even he had not algebra enough to reduce that amiable\npart of our species to a just equation; and they are the only heavenly\nbodies whose orbits are as yet uncertain.\n\n\"If you think yourself too grave a matron to have this florid part of\nthe speech addressed to you, pray lend it to the Collector, and he will\nsend it to Miss Nancy.\n\n\"Since my brother's departure, Katty and I have been computing in our\nturn, and the result of our deliberation is, that we are to take up\nhouse in Berwick; where, if arithmetic and frugality don't deceive us,\n(and they are pretty certain arts) we shall be able, after providing for\nhunger, warmth, and cleanliness, to keep a stock in reserve, which we\nmay afterwards turn either to the purposes of hoarding, luxury, or\ncharity. But I have declared beforehand against the first; I can easily\nguess which of the other two you and Mr. Dysart will be most favourable\nto. But we reject your judgment; for nothing blinds one so much as\ninveterate habits.\n\n\"My compliments to his Solicitorship.[338:1] Unfortunately I have not a\nhorse at present to carry my fat carcass, to pay its respects to his\nsuperior obesity. But if he finds travelling requisite either for his\nhealth or the captain's, we shall be glad to entertain him here, as long\nas we can do it at another's expense; in hopes we shall soon be able to\ndo it at our own.\n\n\"Pray tell the Solicitor that I have been reading lately, in an old\nauthor called _Strabo_, that in some cities of ancient Gaul, there was a\nfixed legal standard established for corpulency; and that the senate\nkept a measure, beyond which, if any belly presumed to increase, the\nproprietor of that belly was obliged to pay a fine to the public,\nproportionable to its rotundity. Ill would it fare with his worship and\nI,[339:1] if such a law should pass our parliament; for I am afraid we\nare already got beyond the statute.\n\n\"I wonder, indeed, no harpy of the treasury has ever thought of this\nmethod of raising money. Taxes on luxury are always most approved of;\nand no one will say, that the carrying about a portly belly is of any\nuse or necessity. 'Tis a mere superfluous ornament; and is a proof, too,\nthat its proprietor enjoys greater plenty than he puts to a good use;\nand, therefore, 'tis fit to reduce him to a level with his\nfellow-subjects, by taxes and impositions.\n\n\"As the lean people are the most active, unquiet, and ambitious, they\nevery where govern the world, and may certainly oppress their\nantagonists whenever they please. Heaven forbid that Whig and Tory\nshould ever be abolished; for then the nation might be split into fat\nand lean; and our faction, I am afraid, would be in piteous taking. The\nonly comfort is, if they oppressed us very much, we should at last\nchange sides with them.\n\n\"Besides, who knows if a tax were imposed on fatness, but some jealous\ndivine might pretend that the church was in danger.\n\n\"I cannot but bless the memory of Julius C\u00e6sar, for the great esteem he\nexpressed for fat men, and his aversion to lean ones. All the world\nallows, that that emperor was the greatest genius that ever was, and\nthe greatest judge of mankind.\n\n\"But I should ask your pardon, dear madam, for this long dissertation on\nfatness and leanness, in which you are no way concerned; for you are\nneither fat nor lean, and may indeed be denominated an arrant trimmer.\nBut this letter may all be read to the Solicitor; for it contains\nnothing that need be a secret to him. On the contrary, I hope he will\nprofit by the example; and, were I near him, I should endeavour to prove\nas good an encourager as in this other instance. What can the man be\nafraid of? The Mayor of London had more courage, who defied the\nhare.[340:1]\n\n\"But I am resolved some time to conclude, by putting a grave epilogue to\na farce, and telling you a real serious truth, that I am, with great\nesteem, dear madam, your most obedient humble servant.[340:2]\n\n\"P.S. Pray let the Solicitor tell Frank, that he is a bad\ncorrespondent--the only way in which he can be a bad one, by his\nsilence.\"\n\n\nWe find, through the whole of his acts and written thoughts before his\nreturn from the embassy to Turin, the indications of an earnest wish to\npossess the means of independent livelihood, suitable to one belonging\nto the middle classes of life. Great wealth or ornamental rank he seems\nnever to have desired: but the circumstance of his having, in the year\n1748, achieved the means of independence through his official\nemoluments, seems to have taken so strong a hold of his mind, that\nnearly thirty years afterwards, in writing his autobiography, he speaks\nwith exultation of his having been then in possession of \u00a31000. The\nposition of the man in comfortable circumstances, equally removed from\nthe dread of want, and the uneasy pressure of superfluous wealth,\nappears always to have presented itself as the most desirable fate\nwhich, in mere pecuniary matters, fortune could have in store for him;\nand no commentary on the sacred text has perhaps better illustrated its\napplication to the conduct and feelings of mankind, than his adaptation\nof Agur's prayer to the middle station in life, at a time when he was\nfar from having realized that happy mediocrity of fortune, of which he\ngives so pleasing a picture.\n\n     Agur's prayer is sufficiently noted--\"Two things have I\n     required of thee; deny me them not before I die: remove far\n     from me vanity and lies; give me neither poverty nor riches;\n     feed me with food convenient for me, lest I be full and deny\n     thee, and say, who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal,\n     and take the name of my God in vain.\"--The middle station is\n     here justly recommended, as affording the fullest security for\n     virtue; and I may also add, that it gives opportunity for the\n     most ample exercise of it, and furnishes employment for every\n     good quality which we can possibly be possessed of. Those who\n     are placed among the lower ranks of men, have little\n     opportunity of exerting any other virtue besides those of\n     patience, resignation, industry, and integrity. Those who are\n     advanced into the higher stations, have full employment for\n     their generosity, humanity, affability, and charity. When a\n     man lies betwixt these two extremes, he can exert the former\n     virtues towards his superiors, and the latter towards his\n     inferiors. Every moral quality which the human soul is\n     susceptible of, may have its turn, and be called up to action;\n     and a man may, after this manner, be much more certain of his\n     progress in virtue, than where his good qualities lie dormant,\n     and without employment.[341:1]\n\nThe following letter, of a somewhat later date, gives a view of his\ndefinitive intentions.\n\n\nHUME _to_ MICHAEL RAMSAY.\n\n\"_Ninewells, 22d June, 1751._\n\n\"DEAR MICHAEL,--I cannot sufficiently express my sense of your kind\nletter. The concern you take in your friends is so warm, even after so\nlong absence, and such frequent interruptions as our commerce has\nunhappily met with of late years, that the most recent familiarity of\nothers can seldom equal it. I might perhaps pretend, as well as others,\nto complain of fortune; but I do not, and should condemn myself as\nunreasonable if I did. While interest remains as at present, I have \u00a350\na-year, a hundred pounds worth of books, great store of linens and fine\nclothes, and near \u00a3100 in my pocket; along with order, frugality, a\nstrong spirit of independency, good health, a contented humour, and an\nunabating love of study. In these circumstances I must esteem myself one\nof the happy and fortunate; and so far from being willing to draw my\nticket over again in the lottery of life, there are very few prizes with\nwhich I would make an exchange. After some deliberation, I am resolved\nto settle in Edinburgh, and hope I shall be able with these revenues to\nsay with Horace--\n\n     Est bona librorum et provisae frugis in annum\n     Copia.\n\nBesides other reasons which determine me to this resolution, I would not\ngo too far away from my sister, who thinks she will soon follow me; and\nin that case, we shall probably take up house either in Edinburgh, or\nthe neighbourhood. Our sister-in-law behaves well, and seems very\ndesirous we should both stay. . . . . . . And as she (my sister) can\njoin \u00a330 a-year to my stock, and brings an equal love of order and\nfrugality, we doubt not to make our revenues answer. Dr. Clephane, who\nhas taken up house, is so kind as to offer me a room in it; and two\nfriends in Edinburgh have made me the same offer. But having nothing to\nask or solicit at London, I would not remove to so expensive a place;\nand am resolved to keep clear of all obligations and dependencies, even\non those I love the most.\"[343:1]\n\n\nIn fulfilment of the design thus announced, he tells us, in his \"own\nlife,\" \"In 1751, I removed from the country to the town, the true scene\nfor a man of letters.\" We find, from the dating of his letters, that\nHume's residence in Edinburgh was for a year or two in \"Riddell's Land,\"\nand that it was afterwards in \"Jack's Land.\" Since the plan of numbering\nthe houses in each street extended to the Scottish capital, these names\nhave no longer been in general use; but I find that the former applied\nto an edifice in the Lawnmarket, near the head of the West Bow, and that\nthe latter was a tenement in the Canongate, right opposite to a house in\nwhich Smollet occasionally resided with his sister. The term \"Land\"\napplied to one of those edifices--some of them ten or twelve stories\nhigh,--in which the citizens of Edinburgh, pressed upwards as it were by\nthe increase of the population within a narrow circuit of walls, made\nstair-cases supply the place of streets, and erected perpendicular\nthoroughfares. A single floor of one of these edifices was, a century\nago, sufficient to accommodate the family of a Scottish nobleman; and\nwe may be certain, that a very small \"Flat\" would suit the economical\nestablishment of Hume.\n\nIn 1751, appeared the \"Inquiry concerning the Principles of\nMorals,\"[344:1] the full development, so far as it was made by Hume, of\nthe utilitarian system. The leading principle kept in view throughout\nthis work, is, that its tendency to be useful to mankind at large, is\nthe proper criterion of the propriety of any action, or the justness of\nany ethical opinion. In this spirit he examines many of the social\nvirtues, and shows that it is their usefulness to mankind that gives\nthem a claim to sympathy, and a title to be included in the list of\nvirtues. The defects of this exposition of the utilitarian system, are\nmarked by the manner in which it was critically attacked. In 1753 a\ncontroversial examination of it was made, with temper and ability, by\nJames Balfour of Pilrig,[344:2] who in 1754 succeeded to the chair, in\nthe university of Edinburgh, which Hume had been desirous of\nfilling.[345:1] Mr. Balfour's great argument is the universality of the\nadmission by mankind, in some shape or other, of the leading cardinal\nvirtues, and the unhesitating adoption and practice of them by men on\nwhom the utilitarian theory never dawned, and who are unconscious that\ntheir isolated acts are the fulfilment of any general or uniform law.\nMr. Balfour argued that we must thus look to something else than\nutility, as the criterion of moral right and wrong. But a supporter of\nthe utilitarian system, as it has been more fully developed in later\ndays, would probably only take from Mr. Balfour's argument a hint to\nenlarge the scope of Hume's investigations. To the inquiry, how far\nutility is the proper end of human conduct, he would add the inquiry,\nhow far the theory has been practically adopted by mankind at large.\nThough Bacon first laid down the broad rule of unvarying induction from\nexperiment, many experiments were made, and many inductions derived from\nthem, before he saw the light; and so before the utilitarian theory was\nfirst formally suggested--as it appears to have been by Aristotle in his\nNicomachean Ethics--utility may frequently have been a rule of action.\n\nIt does not necessarily follow, that because a practice is universal,\nbecause it is adopted \"by saint, by savage, and by sage,\" it is\ntherefore not the dictate of utility, provided it be admitted that\nutility was an influencing motive with men before the days of Hume. The\nfollowers of established customs may often be blind; but if we hunt back\na practice to its first institution, we may find that the leaders were\nquick-sighted, and kept utility in view, so far as the state of things\nthey had to deal with permitted. A minute inquiry into national\nprejudices and customs frequently surprises the speculative philosopher,\nby developing these practices and opinions of the vulgar and illiterate,\nas the fruit of great knowledge and forethought. Exhibiting, in their\nfull extravagance, the contrasts between different codes of morality,\nwas one of Hume's literary recreations; and it might have been worth his\nwhile to have inquired, had it occurred to him, how much of his own\nfavourite utilitarian principle is common to all, or at least to many,\nof the systems he has thus contrasted with each other.\n\nIt was a consequence, perhaps, of the limited extent to which he had\ncarried the utilitarian theory, that Hume was charged with having left\nno distinct line between talent and virtue. By making it seem as if he\nheld that each man was virtuous according as he did good to mankind at\nlarge, and vicious in as far as he failed in accomplishing this end, he\nmade way for the argument, that no man can rise high in virtue, unless\nhe also rise high in intellectual gifts; since, without possessing the\nlatter, he is not capable of deciding what actions are, and what are\nnot, conducive to the good of the human race. Many sentiments expressed\nin the Inquiry appeared to justify this charge.[347:1] There was thus no\nmerit assigned to what is called good intention; and no ground for\nextending the just approbation of mankind to those who have never\nattempted to frame a code of morality to themselves, but who, following\nthe track of established opinions, or the rules laid down by some of the\nmany leaders of the human race, believe that, by a steadfast and\ndisinterested pursuit of their adopted course, they are doing that which\nis right in the eye of God and man. It is certain, however, that in this\nway many a man may be pursuing a line of conduct conducive to the good\nof his fellow-creatures, without knowing that his actions have that\nultimate end. While he follows the rules that have been laid down for\nhim, his code of morality may be as far superior to that of his clever\nand aspiring neighbour, who has fabricated a system for himself, as the\nintelligence of the leader, followed by the one, is greater than the\nself-sufficient wisdom of the other. Hence multitudes in the humblest\nclasses of society, in any well regulated community of modern Europe,\nwill be found, almost blindly, following a code of morality as much\nabove what the genius either of Socrates or Cicero could devise, as the\norder of the universe is superior to the greatest efforts of man's\nartificial skill.\n\n     \"Yon cottager, who weaves at her own door,\n     Pillow and bobbins all her little store;--\n     Content though mean, and cheerful if not gay,\n     Shuffling her threads about the livelong day,\n     Just earns a scanty pittance; and at night\n     Lies down secure,--her heart and pocket light.\n\n     She, for her humble sphere by nature fit,\n     Has little understanding, and no wit;\n     Receives no praise--but, though her lot be such,\n     Toilsome and indigent, she renders much;\n     Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true--\n     A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew;\n     And in that charter reads, with sparkling eyes,\n     Her title to a treasure in the skies.\n\n     Oh, happy peasant! oh, unhappy bard!\n     His the mere tinsel, hers the rich reward;\n     He, praised, perhaps, for ages yet to come;\n     She never heard of half a mile from home;\n     He, lost in errors his vain heart prefers,\n     _She, safe in the simplicity of hers_.\"\n\nIt was, perhaps, from a like want of inquiry into the full extent of the\nsystem, that his theory of utility encountered the charge of being a\nmere system of \"expediency,\" which estimated actions according as they\naccomplished what appeared at the moment to be good or evil, without any\nregard to their ultimate consequences. He certainly left for Bentham the\ntask of making a material addition to the utilitarian theory, by\napplying it to the secondary effects of actions. Thus, according to\nBentham's view, when a successful highway robbery is committed, the\ndirect evil done to the victim is but a part of the mischief\naccomplished. The secondary effects have an operation, if not so deep,\nyet very widely spread, in creating terror, anxiety, and distrust on the\npart of honest people, and emboldening the wicked to the perpetration of\ncrimes. On the same principle a good measure must not be carried through\nthe legislature by corrupt means; because the example so set, will, in\nthe end, though not perhaps till the generation benefited by the measure\nhas passed away, produce more bad measures than good, by lowering the\ntone of political morality. Had Hume kept in view these secondary\neffects, he never would have vindicated suicide, thought sudden death an\noccurrence rather fortunate than otherwise, or used expressions from\nwhich an opponent could with any plausibility infer, that, under any\ncircumstances, he held strict female chastity in light esteem. But he\nwas always careless about the offensive application of his principles;\nforgetting that if there be any thing in a set of opinions calculated\ndeeply and permanently to outrage the feelings of mankind, the\nprobability at least is, that they have something about them\nunsound,--that the mass of the public are right, and the solitary\nphilosopher wrong.\n\nHume's account, in his \"own life,\" of this period of his literary\nhistory, is contained in the following paragraph, in which, as in some\nother instances, it will be seen that his memory has not accurately\nretained the chronological sequence of his works.\n\n\"In 1752, were published at Edinburgh, where I then lived, my 'Political\nDiscourses,' the only work of mine that was successful on the first\npublication. It was well received abroad and at home. In the same year\nwas published at London, my 'Inquiry concerning the Principles of\nMorals;' which, in my own opinion, (who ought not to judge on that\nsubject,) is of all my writings, historical, philosophical, or literary,\nincomparably the best. It came unnoticed and unobserved into the world.\"\n\nBefore noticing the \"Political Discourses,\" it is necessary to state,\nthat during this winter of 1751, we find Hume again attempting to obtain\nan academic chair, and again disappointed. Adam Smith, having been\nProfessor of Logic in the university of Glasgow, succeeded to the chair\nof Moral Philosophy in November 1751, on the death of Professor Craigie,\nits former occupant. That Hume used considerable exertions to be\nappointed Smith's successor, is attested by some incidental passages in\nhis correspondence, and particularly by the following letter to Dr.\nCullen.\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 21st January, 1752._\n\n\"SIR,--The part which you have acted in the late project for my election\ninto your college, gave me so much pleasure, that I would do myself the\ngreatest violence did I not take every opportunity of expressing my most\nlively sense of it. We have failed, and are thereby deprived of great\nopportunities of cultivating that friendship, which had so happily\ncommenced by your zeal for my interests. But I hope other opportunities\nwill offer; and I assure you, that nothing will give me greater pleasure\nthan an intimacy with a person of your merit. You must even allow me to\ncount upon the same privilege of friendship, as if I had enjoyed the\nhappiness of a longer correspondence and familiarity with you; for as it\nis a common observation, that the conferring favours on another is the\nsurest method of attaching us to him, I must, by this rule, consider you\nas a person to whom my interests can never be altogether indifferent.\nWhatever the reverend gentlemen may say of my religion, I hope I have as\nmuch morality as to retain a grateful sentiment of your favours, and as\nmuch sense as to know whose friendship will give greatest honour and\nadvantage to me. I am,\" &c.\n\n\nThe distinguished scientific man, in the course of whose researches this\ncurious literary incident was divulged, informs us that Burke was also a\ncandidate for this chair,[351:1] and that the successful competitor was\na Mr. Clow. Concerning this fortunate person literary history is silent;\nbut he has acquired a curious title to fame, from the greatness of the\nman to whom he succeeded, and of those over whom he was triumphant.\n\nIt is not, perhaps, to be regretted, that Hume failed in both his\nattempts to obtain a professor's chair. He was not of the stuff that\nsatisfactory teachers of youth are made of. Although he was beyond all\ndoubt an able man of business, in matters sufficiently important to\ncommand his earnest attention, yet it is pretty clear that he had\nacquired the outward manner of an absent, good-natured man, unconscious\nof much that was going on around him; and that he would have thus\nafforded a butt to the mischief and raillery of his pupils, from which\nall the lustre of his philosophical reputation would not have protected\nhim.\n\nDiscoverers do not make, in ordinary circumstances, the best instructors\nof youth, because their minds are often too full of the fermentation of\ntheir own original ideas and partly developed systems, to possess the\ncoolness and clearness necessary for conveying a distinct view of the\nlaws and elements of an established system. But if this may be an\nincidental inconvenience in one whose discoveries are but extensions of\nadmitted doctrines, the revolutionist who is endeavouring to pull to\npieces what has been taught for ages within the same walls, and to erect\na new system in its stead, can scarcely ever be a satisfactory\ninstructor of any considerable number of young men. The teacher of the\nmoral department of science especially must be, to a certain extent, a\nconformist; if he be not, what is taught in the class-room will be\nforgotten or contradicted in the closet. The teachers of youth are\nthemselves not less irascible and sometimes not less prejudiced than\nother mortals. They have their hatreds and partisanships, often\nproductive of acrimonious controversy; but when there is something like\na unity of opinion in the systems of those who teach the same, or like\nsubjects, these superficial discussions produce no evil fruit. Hume\nwould have been at peace with all who would have let his unobtrusive\nspirit alone; but he would probably have quietly proceeded to inculcate\ndoctrines to which most of his fellow-labourers were strongly averse;\nand that, perhaps, without knowing or feeling that he was in any way\ndeparting from the simple routine of duties which the public expected of\nhim. And thus he would probably have created in the midst of the rising\nyouth of the day, an isolated circle of disciples, taught to despise the\nacquirements and opinions of their contemporaries, as these\ncontemporaries held theirs in abhorrence.[353:1]\n\nThis was an important epoch in Hume's literary history; in 1751, he\nproduced the work which he himself considered the most meritorious of\nall his efforts; in 1752, he published that which obtained the largest\namount of contemporary popularity, the \"Political Discourses.\"[354:1]\nAfter a series of literary disappointments, borne with the spirit of one\nwho felt within him the real powers of an original thinker and an\nagreeable writer, and the assurance that the world would some day\nacknowledge the sterling greatness of his qualifications, he now at last\npresented them in a form, in which they received the ready homage of the\npublic. These Discourses are in truth the cradle of political economy;\nand, much as that science has been investigated and expounded in later\ntimes, these earliest, shortest, and simplest developments of its\nprinciples are still read with delight even by those who are masters of\nall the literature of this great subject.[354:2] But they possess a\nquality which more elaborate economists have striven after in vain, in\nbeing a pleasing object of study not only to the initiated but to the\nordinary popular reader, and of being admitted as just and true by many\nwho cannot or who will not understand the views of later writers on\npolitical economy.[355:1] They have thus the rarely conjoined merit,\nthat, as they were the first to direct the way to the true sources of\nthis department of knowledge, those who have gone farther, instead of\nsuperseding them, have in the general case confirmed their accuracy.\n\nPolitical economy is a science of which the advanced extremities are the\nsubject of debate and doubt, while the older doctrines are admitted by\nall as firm and established truths. It may be slippery ground, but it is\nnot a tread-mill, and no step taken has ever to be entirely retraced. It\nis owing to this characteristic of the science that those who oppose the\ndoctrines of modern economists do not think of denying those of David\nHume; and thus, while in these essays the economist finds some of the\nmost important doctrines of his peculiar subject set forth with a\nclearness and elegance with which he dare not attempt to compete, the\nordinary reader, who has a distaste of new doctrines and innovating\ntheories, awards them the respect due to old established opinion.\n\nThat they should have been, with all their innovation on received\nopinions, and their startling novelty, so popular in their own age, is\nalso a matter which has its peculiar explanation. The dread of\ninnovation, simply as change, and without reference to the interests it\nmay affect, sprung up in later times, a child of the French revolution.\nBefore that event some men were republican or constitutional in their\nviews, and declared war against all changes which tended to throw power\ninto the hands of the monarch. Others were monarchical, and opposed to\nthe extension of popular rights. But if an alteration were suggested\nwhich did not affect these fundamental principles and opinions, it was\nwelcomed with liberal courtesy, examined, and adopted or rejected on its\nown merits. Hence both Hume and Smith, writing in bold denunciation of\nall the old cherished prejudices in matters of commerce, instead of\nbeing met with a storm of reproach, as any one who should publish so\nmany original views in the present day would be, at once received a fair\nhearing and a just appreciation.[356:1]\n\nThus there was a period during which innovations, however bold or\nextensive, received a favourable hearing, and in which the literature\nboth of England and of France was daily giving publicity to new theories\nembodying sweeping alterations of social systems. In this work the two\ncountries presented their national characteristics. The English writers\nkept always in view the question how far there would be a vital\nprinciple remaining in society after the diseased part was removed; how\nfar there was reason to suppose that the small quantity of good done to\nthe public by any irrational system, which at the same time did much\nevil, might be accomplished after its abolition. The French were\nindiscriminate in their war against old received opinions, and offered\nnothing to fill their place when they were gone; and hence in some\nmeasure followed results which have made change and innovation words of\ndread throughout a great part of society.\n\nOf the inquiries through which Hume brought together the materials for\nthese essays, the reader will have found a specimen in the notes, or\n_adversaria_ quoted above.[357:1] A comparison of these fragments of the\nraw material, with the finished result, develops this marked feature in\nHume's method of working, that in the way to a short proposition, he has\noften read and thought at great length. The simplicity and unity of his\nwritings were of more importance to him than the appearance of\nelaboration; and where others would be scattering multitudinous\nstatements and authorities, he is content with the simple embodiment of\nresults, conscious that inquiry will confirm in the reader's mind the\njustness of what he lays down. In some respects we can watch the\nprogress of Hume's mind in connexion with these subjects; for in his\nallusions to commercial matters in his earlier works, he uses the common\nphraseology, such as \"balance of trade,\" in a manner indicating an\nadherence to those ordinary fallacies of the day, which, when he came to\nexamine them in his essays on \"commerce,\" \"money,\" \"interest,\" \"the\nbalance of trade,\" \"taxes,\" and \"public credit,\" he extensively\nrepudiated. His examination of the nature and value of money as a medium\nof exchange, is probably the best and simplest that, even down to this\nday, can be found. His theory, so far as it goes, has hardly ever been\nquestioned; and indeed at present it may be said, that beyond it we know\nlittle with certainty, and that its author had at once discovered the\nlimits at which full and satisfactory knowledge was, for nearly a\ncentury, to rest.[358:1] He shows that money is not in itself property\nor value; that it is a mere representative, which, if cheap or dear in\nits material, is just, in the same ratio, a cheap or a dear method of\naccomplishing a purpose. That if a community could conduct its\ntransactions with a small quantity of money as well as with a large, it\nwould, so far from being poorer, be the richer by so much as the\nsuperabundant money had cost. He examines those simple laws which, when\nthere is no disturbing influence, have a tendency to equalize the\ndistribution of the precious metals, through the cheapness of labour and\ncommodities where they are scarce, the nominal enhancement where they\nare abundant. He notices with great clearness and precision the\nrespective effects upon the community of a state of increase, and of a\nstate of diminution of the available currency of a country. But he\nenters on few of those intricate monetary questions which are now so\nfrequently the subject of discussion. Of inquiries into the causes which\naffect the quantity of money in a country, the moving influences from\nwhich arise gluts, drains, stagnations, and all the mysteries of\nfinance, he shows us that he felt diffident; and on these matters, how\nlittle is the quantity of full satisfactory undisputed knowledge which\nwe yet possess!\n\nIndeed, one of the great merits of Hume's Essays on Political Economy\nis, that he knows when he is getting out of his depth, and does not\nconceal his position. With many writers on this subject, the point where\nclear and satisfactory inquiry ends, is that where dogmatism begins; but\nHume stops at that point, sees and admits the difficulty, and\nacknowledges that he can go no farther with safety.\n\nAmong these essays there is one which, like the Oceana of Harrington,\nthough on a smaller scale, is an attempt to construct a system of\npolity. It is called \"Idea of a Perfect Commonwealth.\" The system so put\ntogether is liable to practical objections at every step, and is utterly\ndestitute of that sagacious applicability to the transactions of real\nbusiness, for which the efforts in hypothetical legislation by Bentham\nare distinguished.[361:1]\n\nAnother essay of a different character is conspicuous for the vast\nextent of the learning and research which must have been expended in\nbringing together its crowd of apt illustrations,--that on \"The\nPopulousness of Ancient Nations.\" To afford a choice of so many\napplicable facts, directly bearing on the point, how wide must have been\nthe research, how extensive the rejection of such fruit of that\nresearch, as did not answer his purpose! In the perusal of this essay\none is inclined to regret that Hume afterwards made a portion of modern\nEurope the object of his historical labours, instead of taking up some\ndepartment of the history of classical antiquity. The full blown lustre\nof Greek and Roman greatness had far more of his sympathy than the\nhistory of his own countrymen, and their slow progress from barbarism to\ncivilisation. The materials were nearly all confined to the great\nspirits of antiquity, with whom he delighted to hold converse, instead\nof involving that heap of documentary matter with which the historian of\nBritain must grapple; acts of parliament, journals, writs, legal\ndocuments, &c.--all things which his soul abhorred. In such a field he\nmight have escaped the imputation of not being a full and fair\ninvestigator; and he would, at all events, have avoided the reproach\nthrown on him by the prying antiquary, who, by the light of newly\ndiscovered documents, could charge him with having neglected that of\nwhich he did not, and could not, know the existence.[364:1]\n\nIn a letter to Henry Home in 1748, we find Hume mentioning an essay on\nthe Protestant Succession, as one which he was to include in the edition\nof his \"Essays Moral and Political,\" then preparing for the\npress.[365:1] He speaks of people having endeavoured to divert him from\nthis publication, as one likely to be injurious to him as an official\nman. Perhaps he was prevailed on to adopt the view of his prudent\nfriends, for this essay is not among the \"Essays Moral and Political,\"\nbut forms one of the volume of Discourses, among which it is somewhat\ninharmoniously placed, as it is the only one which bears a reference to\nthe current internal party politics of the day.\n\nThe \"Political Discourses\" introduced Hume to the literature of the\ncontinent. The works of Quesnay, Rivi\u00e8re, Mirabeau, Raynal, and Turgot,\nhad not yet appeared, but the public mind of France had been opened for\nnovel doctrines by the bold appeal of Vauban,[365:2] and by the curious\nand original inquiries of Montesquieu. The Discourses appear to have\nbeen first translated by El\u00e9azer Mauvillon, a native of Provence, and\nprivate secretary to Frederic Augustus, King of Poland, who published\nhis translation in 1753.[365:3] Another, and better known translation,\nby the Abb\u00e9 Le Blanc, was published in 1754.[365:4] This Abb\u00e9 had spent\nsome time in England, and wrote a work on his experiences in Britain,\ncalled \"Lettres sur les Anglois.\" He was the author also of a tragedy\ncalled Aben S\u00e4id, which seems to have now lost any fame it ever\nacquired. His translations from Hume were, however, highly popular, that\nof the Discourses passing through several editions; and we shall find\nthat they obtained the approbation of Hume himself. The Abb\u00e9, in a\nletter to the author, gives an account of the reception of the\ntranslation,[366:1] the colour of which he may be supposed to have\nenriched, as regarding a matter in which he felt himself to be _pars\nmagna_. He prophesies that it will produce a like sensation to that\ncaused by the Esprit des Loix, and he finds his prophecy fulfilled. He\nstates, that it is not only read with avidity, but that it has given\nrise to a multitude of other works. There can be no doubt, indeed, that\nas no Frenchman had previously approached the subject of political\neconomy with a philosophical pen, this little book was a main\ninstrument, either by causing assent or provoking controversy, in\nproducing the host of French works on political economy, published\nbetween the time of its translation, and the publication of Smith's\n\"Wealth of Nations,\" in 1776.[366:2] The work of the elder Mirabeau in\nparticular--L'Ami des Hommes, was in a great measure a controversial\nexamination of Hume's opinions on population.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[320:1] Stewart's Philosophy of the Human Mind, and Preliminary\nDissertation to the Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica.\n\n[320:2] In the following pages these papers will be cited as the Minto\nMSS.\n\n[320:3] His grandfather distinguished himself by his resolute and\nskilful defence of William Veitch, one of the nonconforming clergy, who\nsuffered in the persecutions of the reign of Charles II. Elliot acting\nas the persecuted man's agent, made an appeal to the feelings of the\nEnglish statesmen, on the barbarity of the measures of their Scots\ncolleagues; and was so far successful, that the sentence of death\npronounced against Veitch, was commuted to banishment. He thenceforth\nbecame, of course, a marked man, and an act of forfeiture passed against\nhim in 1685, as an accessory in Argyle's rising. He afterwards obtained\na remission of his sentence, and on 22d November, 1688, he was received\nas a member of the faculty of advocates. He was created a baronet in\n1700, and on 25th July, 1705, was raised to the bench. (_Brunton and\nHaig's account of the Senators of the College of Justice._) In Dr.\nM'Crie's curious \"Memoirs of Mr. William Veitch,\" (p. 99) it is stated,\nthat when the evil days were passed, and the condemned nonconformist was\nparish minister of Dumfries, he was occasionally visited by the judge,\nwhen the following conversation passed between them,--\"Ah Willie,\nWillie, had it no' been for me, the pyets had been pyken your pate on\nthe Nether-bow Port;\" to which the retort was, \"Ah Gibbie, Gibbie, had\nit no' been for me, ye would ha'e been yet writing papers for a plack\nthe page.\"\n\nThis Sir Gilbert's son, and the father of Hume's correspondent, was\nraised to the bench on 4th June, 1726, and became Lord Justice Clerk on\n3d May, 1703. He died on 16th April, 1766.\n\n[321:1] He was chosen member for the county of Selkirk in 1754, and\n1762, and for Roxburghshire in 1765, 1768, and 1774. He succeeded to the\nbaronetcy on his father's death in 1766. He was made a lord of the\nadmiralty in 1756, treasurer of the chamber in 1762, keeper of the\nsignet in Scotland in 1767, and treasurer of the navy in 1770. He died\nin 1777. _Collins' Peerage. Beatson's Parliamentary Register._\n\n[322:1] Minto MS.\n\n[322:2] See as instances, Washington Irving's \"Salmagundi,\" and Morier's\n\"Hajji Baba.\"\n\n[324:1] Discours sur Th\u00e9ophraste, where there are some bitter and just\nremarks on the Parisian manners of La Bruyere's day, as an appropriate\nintroduction to the exhibition of the follies of the Athenians.\n\n[324:2] Scroll, Minto MSS.\n\n[325:1] \"La Perp\u00e9tuit\u00e9 de la Foi, de l'Eglise Catholique touchant\nL'Eucharistie,\" 3 vols. 4to, 1669-1676. A smaller work published by the\nsame author in 1664, was called \"La Petite Perp\u00e9tuit\u00e9.\" Its author,\nPierre Nicole, one of the illustrious recluses of the Port Royal, was\nmore efficient as a polemical supporter of the principles of his church,\nthan as a practical administrator of its authority. An amusing story is\ntold of his unguarded habits and absence of mind. A lady had brought\nunder his notice, as her spiritual adviser, a matter of extreme\ndelicacy, with which he felt it difficult to deal. Seeing approach at\nthe moment Father Fouquet, whom he knew to have much judgment and\nexperience in such matters, he cried out--\"Ah, here comes a man who can\nsolve the difficulty,\" and, running to meet him, told the whole case,\nloudly and energetically. The feelings of the fair penitent may be\nimagined.\n\n[327:1] Probably \"The Bellman's Petition,\" mentioned above.\n\n[327:2] Minto MSS.\n\n[328:1] In the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[331:1] The late Rev. Dr. Morehead of St. Paul's Chapel in Edinburgh,\nwho was revered as a minister, and respected as a scholar and\nphilosopher, published in 1830, \"Dialogues on Natural and Revealed\nReligion,\" a pleasing continuation of the work we have just been\nconsidering, in which the speakers are made to approach a conclusion\nnearer to the reverend author's own opinions, than he found them to be\nwhen he had read to the end of Hume's little book. From a note by Dr.\nMorehead, I am tempted to extract the following passage: \"Mr. Hume was\nconscious of his own power, probably while his countrymen were making\nhim a theme of their uncouth derision; and he seems to have had a\nprescience that he had not yet gathered all his fame. . . . . . . I am\nmuch mistaken if the name of this profound thinker does not yet receive\nthe encomiastic epithets of a _grateful_ posterity; and if, when his\nerrors have passed away, he does not yet come to be regarded as the\nphilosopher who has made the most penetrating and successful researches\nin the intricate science of human nature. He is a cool anatomist, who\nhas dissected it throughout every fibre and nerve; and he may be partly\npardoned, perhaps, if, in this sort of remorseless operation, he has too\nmuch lost sight of the principle of its moral and intellectual life.\"\nThe Dialogues on Natural Religion seem to have taken a firm hold of Dr.\nMorehead's mind. He left behind him a farther continuation, called\n\"Philosophical Dialogues,\" in which he beautifully represented the Philo\nof the original, revising his old opinions amidst such a serene old age,\nas the writer was then himself enjoying. This little work was published\nafter its author's death, by a distinguished surviving friend, who has\nprobably done more towards the propagation of Christian philosophy, than\nany other living writer of the English language.\n\n[334:1] Down to this point, the letter is printed in Dugald Stewart's\nPreliminary Dissertation to The Encyclop\u00e6dia Britannica, Note ccc.\n\n[336:1] Minto MSS. In this collection there is a scroll of a letter\nwritten by Mr. Elliot to Hume, returning the manuscripts to which the\ncorrespondence refers. It has been published in the notes (ccc,) to\nDugald Stewart's Preliminary Dissertation. It is not only a criticism of\nthe Dialogues on Natural Religion, but an examination of Hume's general\ntheory of impressions and ideas, worthy of the perusal of all who take\ninterest in these inquiries. It is of considerable length, and the\ntemptation to print it along with Hume's letter, was only overcome by\nthe circumstance that it is to be found in a work widely circulated, and\nthat the disposable space in this book may be more economically devoted\nto some letters of Sir Gilbert Elliot which are not to be found\nelsewhere.\n\n[337:1] Mrs. Dysart of Eccles, \"a much valued relation of Hume,\"\naccording to Mackenzie's Account of the Life of Home, p. 104.\n\n[338:1] Alexander Home, Solicitor-general for Scotland.--_Mackenzie._\n\n[339:1] Sic.\n\n[340:1] In allusion to that mayor who, on his first introduction to\nfield sports, hearing a cry that the hare was coming, exclaimed, in a\nfit of magnanimous courage, \"Let him come, in God's name; I fear him\nnot!\"\n\n[340:2] Mackenzie's Home, p. 104. The original is in the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[341:1] Essays Moral and Political, published in 1741.\n\n[343:1] From a copy transmitted by Ramsay's nephew to Baron Hume, in the\nMSS. R.S.E. The blank denoted above is in the copy.\n\n[344:1] London: 8vo, printed for A. Millar. It is in the book list of\nthe _Gentleman's Magazine_, for December.\n\n[344:2] \"A Delineation of the Nature and Obligation of Morality, with\nReflections upon Mr. Hume's book, entitled an 'Inquiry concerning the\nPrinciples of Morals.'\"\n\nOn the publication of this book, Hume wrote the following letter,\naddressed \"To the Author of the Delineation of the Nature and\nObligations of Morality,\" and left it with the bookseller.\n\n\"SIR,--When I write you, I know not to whom I am addressing myself: I\nonly know he is one who has done me a great deal of honour, and to whose\ncivilities I am obliged. If we be strangers, I beg we may be acquainted,\nas soon as you think proper to discover yourself: if we be acquainted\nalready, I beg we may be friends: if friends, I beg we may be more so.\nOur connexion with each other as men of letters, is greater than our\ndifference as adhering to different sects or systems. Let us revive the\nhappy times, when Atticus and Cassius the epicureans, Cicero the\nacademic, and Brutus the stoic, could all of them live in unreserved\nfriendship together, and were insensible to all those distinctions,\nexcept so far as they furnished agreeable matter to discourse and\nconversation. Perhaps you are a young man, and being full of those\nsublime ideas, which you have so well expressed, think there can be no\nvirtue upon a more confined system. I am not an old one; but, being of a\ncool temperament, have always found, that more simple views were\nsufficient to make me act in a reasonable manner; \u03bd\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5, \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bc\u1f11\u03bc\u03bd\u03b7\u03c3\u03bf\n\u1f00\u03c0\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03b5\u03b9\u03bd; in this faith have I lived, and hope to die.\n\n\"Your civilities to me so much overbalance your severities, that I\nshould be ungrateful to take notice of some expressions which, in the\nheat of composition, have dropped from your pen. I must only complain of\nyou a little for ascribing to me the sentiments, which I have put into\nthe mouth of the Sceptic in the \"Dialogue.\" I have surely endeavoured to\nrefute the sceptic, with all the force of which I am master; and my\nrefutation must be allowed sincere, because drawn from the capital\nprinciples of my system. But you impute to me both the sentiments of the\nsceptic, and the sentiments of his antagonist, which I can never admit\nof. In every dialogue no more than one person can be supposed to\nrepresent the author.\n\n\"Your severity on one head, that of chastity, is so great, and I am so\nlittle conscious of having given any just occasion to it, that it has\nafforded me a hint to form a conjecture, perhaps ill-grounded,\nconcerning your person.\n\n\"I hope to steal a little leisure from my other occupations, in order to\ndefend my philosophy against your attacks. If I have occasion to give a\nnew edition of the work, which you have honoured with an answer, I shall\nmake great advantage of your remarks, and hope to obviate some of your\ncriticisms.\n\n\"Your style is elegant, and full of agreeable imagery. In some few\nplaces it does not fully come up to my ideas of purity and correctness.\nI suppose mine falls still further short of your ideas. In this respect,\nwe may certainly be of use to each other. With regard to our\nphilosophical systems, I suppose we are both so fixed, that there is no\nhope of any conversions betwixt us; and for my part, I doubt not but we\nshall both do as well to remain as we are.\n\n\"I am, &c.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, March 15, 1753._\"\n\n[345:1] It is stated in Ritchie's \"Account of the Life and Writings of\nHume,\" from which the above letter is taken, and in some works of\nreference, which appear to have depended on the authority of that book,\nthat Hume was a competitor with Balfour for the chair. This statement\nhas probably arisen out of some misapprehension as to his previous\ncompetition for the chair.\n\n[347:1] See the dawning of this view in his correspondence with\nHutcheson, _supra_, p. 112. An essay, entitled \"Of some Verbal\nDisputes,\" published in the later editions of the work now under\nconsideration, contains some curious elucidations of it.\n\n[351:1] Thomson--Life of Cullen, 72-73--where the above letter is first\nprinted. Dr. Thomson tells me, that the evidence of Burke having been a\ncandidate is merely traditional, but that it was enough to satisfy his\nown mind. In the \"Outlines of Philosophical Education,\" by Professor\nJardine, who afterwards filled the same chair, there is this passage,\n(p. 21:) \"Burke, whose genius led him afterwards to shine in a more\nexalted sphere, was thought of by some of the electors as a proper\nperson to fill it. He did not, however, actually come forward as a\ncandidate.\"\n\n[353:1] Dr. Thomson says, \"It might afford curious matter of speculation\nto conjecture what effect the appointment of Mr. Hume, or of Mr. Burke,\nto the chair of logic in Glasgow, would have had upon the character of\nthat university, or upon the metaphysical, moral, and political\ninquiries of the age in which they lived; and what consequences were\nlikely to have resulted from the influence which the peculiar genius and\ntalents of either of these great men, had they been exerted in that\nsphere, must necessarily have had in forming the minds of such of their\npupils as were to be afterwards employed in the pursuits of science, or\nthe conduct and regulation of human affairs. It seems difficult to\nconceive how, as instructors of youth, they could either of them,\nwithout a considerable modification of their opinions, have taught\nphilosophy upon the sceptical or the Berkeleian systems which they had\nrespectively adopted; while the strict purity of their moral characters,\nand the great reverence which they both entertained for established\ninstitutions, give the fullest assurance, that, had either of them been\nappointed to the chair of logic, their academical duties would have been\nexecuted with an unceasing regard to the improvement of their pupils,\nand to the reputation of the society into which they had been admitted.\"\nLife of Cullen, p. 73.\n\nSmith, in a letter to Dr. Cullen, says, \"I should prefer David Hume to\nany man for a colleague; but I am afraid the public would not be of my\nopinion; and the interest of the society will oblige us to have some\nregard to the opinion of the public. If the event, however, we are\nafraid of should happen, we can see how the public receives it. From the\nparticular knowledge I have of Mr. Elliot's sentiments, I am pretty\ncertain Mr. Lindsay must have proposed it to him, not he to Mr.\nLindsay.\" Ib. p. 606.\n\n[354:1] Edinburgh, 1752, 8vo. Printed for Kincaid and Donaldson. It is\nin the _Gentleman's Magazine_ list of books for February.\n\n[354:2] Lord Brougham says, \"Of the 'Political Discourses' it would be\ndifficult to speak in terms of too great commendation. They combine\nalmost every excellence which can belong to such a performance. The\nreasoning is clear, and unencumbered with more words or more\nillustrations than are necessary for bringing out the doctrine. The\nlearning is extensive, accurate, and profound, not only as to systems of\nphilosophy, but as to history, whether modern or ancient. The subjects\nare most happily chosen; the language is elegant, precise, and vigorous;\nand so admirably are the topics selected, that there is as little of\ndryness in these fine essays as if the subject were not scientific; and\nwe rise from their perusal scarce able to believe that it is a work of\nphilosophy we have been reading, having all the while thought it a book\nof curiosity and entertainment. The great merit, however, of these\nDiscourses, is their originality, and the new system of politics and\npolitical economy which they unfold. Mr. Hume is, beyond all doubt, the\nauthor of the modern doctrines which now rule the world of science,\nwhich are to a great extent the guide of practical statesmen, and are\nonly prevented from being applied in their fullest extent to the affairs\nof nations, by the clashing interests and the ignorant prejudices of\ncertain powerful classes.\" Lives of Men of Letters, p. 204.\n\n[355:1] Perhaps a portion of the pleasure with which these essays are\nread by those who are not partial to the study of political economy, may\nbe attributed to their having been written before that science was in\npossession of a nomenclature, and thus appearing clothed in the ordinary\nlanguage of literature.\n\n[356:1] It was in the most aristocratic quarters that these innovating\ndoctrines were best received; for in them was the greatest amount of\neducation, and its influence was not at that time paralyzed by general\nprejudices against innovation. They were more in favour with the Tories\nthan with the Whigs. Indeed, Archdeacon Tucker, one of the boldest\nspeculators on the economy of trade, was in state politics one of the\nmost uncompromising Tories of his age. Fox, on the other hand, said of\nthe \"Wealth of Nations,\" that \"there was something in all these subjects\nwhich passed his comprehension, something so wide that he could never\nembrace them himself, or find any one who did.\" But in the French\ntreaty, and in other measures regarding trade, Pitt was in the fair way\nof putting them into legislative practice, when, being arrested by the\nFrench revolution, he entertained thenceforward a bitter enmity of\ninnovation; an enmity to which, in the department of political economy,\nhis party became the heirs, preserving the succession down nearly to the\npresent day, when, at least by their leader, old prejudices have been\nalready in a great measure, and are likely soon to be altogether\nrepudiated.\n\n[357:1] P. 126.\n\n[358:1] It is not intended to be maintained that Hume's Political\nEconomy is immaculate, but merely that in the majority of instances he\nhas fixed certain truths which later inquiries have not shaken. The\nfollowing passage, along with much that is received as true doctrine,\ncontains some observations, such as those on the tax on German linen,\nand on brandy, which modern economists would pronounce to be heterodox.\nThe question of a gold or a paper currency was one which Hume did not\nprofess to decide. He described with considerable impartiality the\nadvantages and the disadvantages of both mediums of exchange.\n\n\"From these principles we may learn what judgment we ought to form of\nthose numberless bars, obstructions, and imposts, which all nations of\nEurope, and none more than England, have put upon trade, from an\nexorbitant desire of amassing money, which never will heap up beyond its\nlevel, while it circulates; or from an ill-grounded apprehension of\nlosing their specie, which never will sink below it. Could any thing\nscatter our riches, it would be such impolitic contrivances. But this\ngeneral ill effect, however, results from them, that they deprive\nneighbouring nations of that free communication and exchange which the\nAuthor of the world has intended, by giving them soils, climates, and\ngeniuses, so different from each other.\n\n\"Our modern politics embrace the only method of banishing money, the\nusing of paper credit; they reject the only method of amassing it, the\npractice of hoarding; and they adopt a hundred contrivances, which serve\nto no purpose but to check industry, and rob ourselves and our\nneighbours of the common benefits of art and nature.\n\n\"All taxes, however, upon foreign commodities, are not to be regarded as\nprejudicial or useless, but those only which are founded on the jealousy\nabove mentioned. A tax on German linen encourages home manufactures, and\nthereby multiplies our people and industry. A tax on brandy increases\nthe sale of rum, and supports our southern colonies. And as it is\nnecessary that imposts should be levied for the support of government,\nit may be thought more convenient to lay them on foreign commodities,\nwhich can easily be intercepted at the port, and subjected to the\nimpost. We ought, however, always to remember the maxim of Dr. Swift,\nthat, in the arithmetic of the customs, two and two make not four, but\noften make only one. It can scarcely be doubted, but if the duties on\nwine were lowered to a third, they would yield much more to the\ngovernment than at present: our people might thereby afford to drink\ncommonly a better and more wholesome liquor; and no prejudice would\nensue to the balance of trade, of which we are so jealous. The\nmanufacture of ale beyond the agriculture is but inconsiderable, and\ngives employment to few hands. The transport of wine and corn would not\nbe much inferior.\"\n\nThe following account of a banking practice still in lively operation in\nScotland, affords a specimen of Hume's capacity to grapple with\npractical details.\n\n\"There was an invention which was fallen upon some years ago by the\nbanks of Edinburgh, and which, as it was one of the most ingenious ideas\nthat has been executed in commerce, has also been thought advantageous\nto Scotland. It is there called a Bank-Credit, and is of this nature:--A\nman goes to the bank, and finds surety to the amount, we shall suppose,\nof a thousand pounds. This money, or any part of it, he has the liberty\nof drawing out whenever he pleases, and he pays only the ordinary\ninterest for it while it is in his hands. He may, when he pleases, repay\nany sum so small as twenty pounds, and the interest is discounted from\nthe very day of the repayment. The advantages resulting from this\ncontrivance are manifold. As a man may find surety nearly to the amount\nof his substance, and his bank-credit is equivalent to ready money, a\nmerchant does hereby in a manner coin his houses, his household\nfurniture, the goods in his warehouse, the foreign debts due to him, his\nships at sea; and can, upon occasion, employ them in all payments, as if\nthey were the current money of the country. If a man borrow a thousand\npounds from a private hand, besides that it is not always to be found\nwhen required, he pays interest for it whether he be using it or not:\nhis bank-credit costs him nothing except during the very moment in which\nit is of service to him: and this circumstance is of equal advantage as\nif he had borrowed money at much lower interest. Merchants likewise,\nfrom this invention, acquire a great facility in supporting each other's\ncredit, which is a considerable security against bankruptcies. A man,\nwhen his own bank-credit is exhausted, goes to any of his neighbours who\nis not in the same condition, and he gets the money, which he replaces\nat his convenience.\"\n\n[361:1] Indeed, in all respects, Hume's political economy is rather\nanalytical of the effect of existing institutions and establishments,\nthan suggestive of any views on the practicability of any great\namelioration of mankind by positive regulations founded on principles of\npolitical economy. Adam Smith pursued the same method. The mission of\nthat school was indeed rather to break down than to build up--to find\nout and eradicate the mischief that had been done by empiric\nlegislation; not to attempt new arrangements. While so much mischievous\nmatter remained to be got rid of, the field was not clear for any\nattempts to try the effect of plans of social organization. It is\nperhaps only now when the doctrines of the political economists, after\nhaving stood out against neglect and hostility, have been nearly brought\ninto practice by the successive abolition of the regulations most\nobjectionable in their eyes, that room has been made for the suggestion\nof plans of internal social organization, founded on inquiries both\nextensive and minute. In the present position of measures for the\nphysical and moral purification, and the social organization of this\ndensely peopled empire,--in the approach to an adjustment of the poor\nlaw,--the reform of the criminal code,--the prison discipline, and the\nsanatory suggestions; and still more, in these not being the mere dreams\nof utopian theorists, but receiving the countenance and support of\npractical statesmen, we appear to have witnessed the dawn of a new era\nin political economy.\n\nHume seems so far from having himself contemplated the application of\nphilosophical skill to the organization of large masses of human beings,\nthat we frequently find in his writings and in his letters, remarks on\nthe growth of cities, sometimes speaking of certain limits which they\ncannot pass, at other times noticing, in a tone of despondency, the\nrapid progress of London, as if it were exceeding those bounds within\nwhich mankind can be kept under the dominion of law and order. In the\nessay on the Populousness of Ancient Nations, he says, \"London, by\nuniting extensive commerce and middling empire, has perhaps arrived at a\ngreatness, which no city will perhaps be able to exceed;\" and he fixes\nthis number at 700,000 inhabitants,--saying farther, \"from the\nexperience of past and present ages, one might conjecture that there is\na kind of impossibility that any city could ever rise much beyond this\nproportion.\" London must then have been considerably under the\npopulation he thus assigns to it, and it had not probably reached that\nnumber of inhabitants twenty-four years later, when we find him,\noppressed by the disease of which he died, saying in a letter to Smith,\n\"should London fall as much in its size as I have done, it will be the\nbetter. It is nothing but a hulk of bad and unclean humours.\"\n\nDuring Hume's lifetime, the metropolis had been frequently outraged and\nintimidated--on some occasions almost desolated, by mobs of city\nsavages; beings far more formidable and brutal than the savages of the\nwilderness. At the time when he published his Political Discourses, it\ncontained bands of robbers, who followed their trade as openly as the\nbrigands of the Abruzzi, committing robberies and murders in the middle\nof the city, in open day. Those who saw the city increasing in size,\nwhile it retained these evil characteristics, naturally looked upon it\nas a cancer, near the most vital part of the empire, and lamented\naccordingly its waxing prosperity and bulk. But its size was not the\ncause of the evil. It is now three times as populous as when Hume wrote,\nyet, with much poverty, much vice, and much ignorance, it is not the\nsame diseased and dangerous mass it then was. The comparative sober\nquietness of the streets,--the well ordered police,--the facilities for\ndiscovering persons who are sought after, without their being subjected\nin their movements to any control, inconsistent with British\nliberty,--are all, when practised on so large a scale, indications that\nhuman genius has great capacities for organization; and they may be, for\naught that can be seen to the contrary, only the initial movements,\nwhich future generations will carry to far more wonderful results.\n\n[364:1] Dr. Robert Wallace, a distinguished clergyman of the Church of\nScotland, had prepared for the Philosophical Society, of which he was a\nmember, an essay, which he enlarged and published in 1752, with the\ntitle, \"Dissertations on the Numbers of Mankind in Ancient and Modern\nTimes;\" adding a supplement, in which he examined Hume's discourse on\nthe Populousness of Ancient Nations. Malthus admitted that Dr. Wallace\nwas the first to point distinctly to the rule, that to find the limits\nof the populousness of any given community, we must look at the quantity\nof food at its disposal. But he was not successful in the controversial\napplication of his principle. Hume's method of inquiry is a double\ncomparison. The statements of numbers in ancient authors being compared\nwith the numbers in existing communities, the relative organization for\nthe supply of food in the two cases is examined, and the author finds\nreason to believe that the statements of numbers are greatly exaggerated\nby ancient authors, as the state of commerce and transit, and the amount\nof stock or capital available for the concentration and distribution of\nfood, are not such as would enable such multitudes to be supported. Dr.\nWallace, laying down, that where there is the most food there will be\nthe greatest number of inhabitants, maintains, that as a much greater\nproportion of the people were employed in agriculture among the ancients\nthan the moderns, there must have been more food and consequently more\nhuman beings. It is almost needless, after so much has been written on\nthis matter, to explain at length the fallacy of this reasoning. The\nrichest and most populous states are those of which the smallest\nproportion of the people are employed in agriculture. A decrease of the\ncomparative number employed in procuring the necessaries of life is the\nmark of increase in wealth and abundance of all things, and is\nnecessarily accompanied either by a proportionally improved agriculture,\nor the purchase of food from poorer communities.\n\nIn the subsequent editions of the \"Discourses,\" Hume acknowledges the\nmerit of Wallace's book, saying, \"So learned a refutation would have\nmade the author suspect that his reasonings were entirely overthrown,\nhad he not used the precaution, from the beginning, to keep himself on\nthe sceptical side; and, having taken this advantage of the ground, he\nwas enabled, though with much inferior forces, to preserve himself from\na total defeat.\"\n\n[365:1] See above, p. 239.\n\n[365:2] Projet d'un Dime Royale, 4to, 1707--a project for abolishing the\nfeudal imposts and exemptions, tithes, and internal transit duties, and\nlevying a general revenue. \"Projet,\" says the Dictionnaire Historique,\n\"digne d'un bon patriote, mais dont l'ex\u00e9cution est tr\u00e8s-difficile.\" In\nHume's notes of his early reading, we find him referring to Vauban, see\np. 131.\n\n[365:3] Discours Politiques traduits de L'Anglais, par M. D' M***\nAmsterdam, 1753. Querard--_La France Litteraire_.\n\n[365:4] With the same title as the above. It was reprinted at Berlin in\n1775.\n\n[366:1] See the letter in the Appendix.\n\n[366:2] There is evidence of the lasting hold which the Discourses had\ntaken on the minds of the French, in the appearance of a new translation\nso late as 1766, with the title, \"Essais sur le Commerce; le Luxe;\nl'argent; l'int\u00e9r\u00eat de l'argent; les impots; le cr\u00e9dit public, et la\nbalance du commerce; par M. David Hume,\" published at Amsterdam in 1766,\nand Paris in 1767. Querard attributes this translation to a Mademoiselle\nde la Chaux. So far as we are entitled to judge of a translation into a\nforeign language, this one seems to be very spirited, speaking through\nFrench idioms and ideas, and ingeniously overcoming the very few\nconventionalisms which could not have been avoided by a native of\nBritain, speaking of British trade and finance.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n1752-1755. \u00c6t. 41-44.\n\n     Appointment as keeper of the Advocates' Library--His Duties--\n     Commences the History of England--Correspondence with Adam\n     Smith and others on the History--Generosity to Blacklock the\n     Poet--Quarrel with the Faculty of Advocates--Publication of\n     the First Volume of the History--Its reception--Continues\n     the History--Controversial and Polemical attacks--Attempt\n     to subject him, along with Kames, to the Discipline of\n     Ecclesiastical Courts--The Leader of the attack--Home's\n     \"Douglas\"--The first Edinburgh Review.\n\n\n\"In 1752,\" says Hume in his \"own life,\" \"the Faculty of Advocates chose\nme their librarian, an office from which I received little or no\nemolument, but which gave me the command of a large library.\"[367:1] We\nhave a very glowing account of the contest for this appointment from\nhis own pen in the following letter:\n\n\nHUME TO DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, February 4th, 1752._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I have been ready to burst with vanity and self-conceit\nthis week past; and being obliged from decorum to keep a strict watch\nover myself, and check all eruptions of that kind, I really begin to\nfind my health impaired by it, and perceive that there is an absolute\nnecessity for breathing a vein, and giving a loose to my inclination.\nYou shall therefore be my physician, \"Dum podagricus fit pugil et\nmedicum urget.\" You must sustain the overflowings of my pride; and I\nexpect, too, that by a little flattery you are to help nature in her\ndischarge, and draw forth a still greater flux of the peccant matter.\n'Tis not on my account alone you are to take part in this great event;\nphilosophy, letters, science, virtue, triumph along with me, and have\nnow in this one singular instance, brought over even the people from the\nside of bigotry and superstition.\n\n\"This is a very pompous exordium, you see; but what will you say when I\ntell you that all this is occasioned by my obtaining a petty office of\nforty or fifty guineas a-year. Since Caligula of lunatic memory, who\ntriumphed on account of the cockle shells which he gathered on the sea\nshore, no one has ever erected a trophy for so small an advantage. But\njudge not by appearances! perhaps you will think, when you know all the\ncircumstances, that this success is both as extraordinary in itself, and\nas advantageous to me, as any thing which could possibly have happened.\n\n\"You have probably heard that my friends in Glasgow, contrary to my\nopinion and advice, undertook to get me elected into that college; and\nthey had succeeded, in spite of the violent and solemn remonstrances of\nthe clergy, if the Duke of Argyle had had courage to give me the least\ncountenance. Immediately upon the back of this failure, which should\nhave blasted for some time all my pretensions, the office of library\nkeeper to the Faculty of Advocates fell vacant, a genteel office, though\nof small revenue; and as this happened suddenly, my name was immediately\nset up by my friends without my knowledge. The President, and the Dean\nof Faculty his son, who used to rule absolutely in this body of\nadvocates, formed an aversion to the project, because it had not come\nfrom them; and they secretly engaged the whole party called squadroney\nagainst me. The bigots joined them, and both together set up a gentleman\nof character, and an advocate, and who had great favour on both these\naccounts. The violent cry of deism, atheism, and scepticism, was raised\nagainst me; and 'twas represented that my election would be giving the\nsanction of the greatest and most learned body of men in this country\nto my profane and irreligious principles. But what was more dangerous,\nmy opponents entered into a regular concert and cabal against me; while\nmy friends were contented to speak well of their project in general,\nwithout having once formed a regular list of the electors, or considered\nof the proper methods of engaging them. Things went on in this negligent\nmanner till within six days of the election, when they met together and\nfound themselves in some danger of being outnumbered; immediately upon\nwhich they raised the cry of indignation against the opposite party; and\nthe public joined them so heartily, that our antagonists durst show\ntheir heads in no companies nor assemblies: expresses were despatched to\nthe country, assistance flocked to us from all quarters, and I carried\nthe election by a considerable majority, to the great joy of all\nbystanders. When faction and party enter into a cause, the smallest\ntrifle becomes important. Nothing since the rebellion has ever so much\nengaged the attention of this town, except Provost Stewart's trial; and\nthere scarce is a man whose friendship or acquaintance I would desire,\nwho has not given me undoubted proofs of his concern and regard.\n\n\"What is more extraordinary, the cry of religion could not hinder the\nladies from being violently my partisans, and I owe my success in a\ngreat measure to their solicitations. One has broke off all commerce\nwith her lover, because he voted against me! and W. Lockhart, in a\nspeech to the Faculty, said that there was no walking the streets, nor\neven enjoying one's own fireside, on account of their importunate zeal.\nThe town says, that even his bed was not safe for him, though his wife\nwas cousin-german to my antagonist.\n\n\"'Twas vulgarly given out, that the contest was betwixt Deists and\nChristians; and when the news of my success came to the Play-house, the\nwhisper ran that the Christians were defeated. Are you not surprised\nthat we could keep our popularity, notwithstanding this imputation,\nwhich my friends could not deny to be well founded?\n\n\"The whole body of cadies bought flambeux, and made illuminations to\nmark their pleasure at my success; and next morning I had the drums and\ntown music at my door, to express their joy, as they said, of my being\nmade a great man. They could not imagine, that so great a fray could be\nraised about so mere a trifle.\n\n\"About a fortnight before, I had published a Discourse of the Protestant\nSuccession, wherein I had very liberally abused both Whigs and Tories;\nyet I enjoyed the favour of both parties.\n\n\"Such, dear Doctor, is the triumph of your friend; yet, amidst all this\ngreatness and glory, even though master of 30,000 volumes, and\npossessing the smiles of a hundred fair ones, in this very pinnacle of\nhuman grandeur and felicity, I cast a favourable regard on you, and\nearnestly desire your friendship and good-will: a little flattery too,\nfrom so eminent a hand, would be very acceptable to me. You know you are\nsomewhat in my debt, in that particular. The present I made you of my\nInquiry, was calculated both as a mark of my regard, and as a snare to\ncatch a little incense from you. Why do you put me to the necessity of\ngiving it to myself?\n\n\"Please tell General St. Clair, that W. St. Clair, the Advocate, voted\nfor me on his account; but his nephew, Sir David, was so excessively\nholy, that nothing could bring him over from the opposite party, for\nwhich he is looked down upon a little by the fashionable company in\ntown. But he is a very pretty fellow, and will soon regain the little\nground he has lost.\n\n\"I am, dear Doctor, yours sincerely.\"\n\n\nThis letter is evidently but half serious. That there was a good deal of\ncontest and caballing is pretty clear; and it is equally clear that Hume\ntook a deep interest in the result: but he appears to have been inclined\nto laugh a little at his own fervour, and to hide the full extent of his\nfeelings under a cloud of playful exaggeration.\n\nThe Advocates' Library, which is now probably next in extent in Britain\nafter the Bodleian, cannot then have borne any great proportion to its\npresent size. It had, however, existed for upwards of seventy years, and\nwas undoubtedly the largest collection of books in Scotland. It was\nrich, perhaps unrivalled, in the works of the civilians and canonists,\nand possessed, what was more valuable to Hume, a considerable body of\nBritish historical literature, printed and MS.[373:1] Hume's duties must\nhave involved some attention, not only to the classification and custody\nof the books, but to the arrangements for making them accessible to the\nmembers of the Faculty, as numerous entries in his hand are to be found\nin the receipt book for borrowed books.[373:2]\n\nHume informs us, that the stores thus put at his command enabled him to\nput his historical designs in practice, by commencing the \"History of\nEngland.\" We shall now find a great part of his correspondence devoted\nto the \"History of the House of Stuart,\" which appears to have been\ncommenced early in 1752. The following is the earliest extant letter to\nSmith:\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_24th Sept. 1752._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I confess I was once of the same opinion with you, and\nthought that the best period to begin an English history was about Henry\nthe Seventh. But you will please to observe, that the change which then\nhappened in public affairs, was very insensible, and did not display its\ninfluence till many years afterwards. 'Twas under James that the House\nof Commons began first to raise their head, and then the quarrel betwixt\nprivilege and prerogative commenced. The government, no longer oppressed\nby the enormous authority of the crown, displayed its genius; and the\nfactions which then arose, having an influence on our present affairs,\nform the most curious, interesting, and instructive part of our history.\nThe preceding events, or causes, may easily be shown, in a reflection or\nreview, which may be artfully inserted in the body of the work; and the\nwhole, by that means, be rendered more compact and uniform. I confess,\nthat the subject appears to me very fine; and I enter upon it with great\nardour and pleasure. You need not doubt of my perseverance.\n\n\"I am just now diverted for a moment, by correcting my 'Essays Moral and\nPolitical,' for a new edition. If any thing occur to you to be inserted\nor retrenched, I shall be obliged to you for the hint. In case you\nshould not have the last edition by you, I shall send you a copy of it.\nIn that edition I was engaged to act contrary to my judgment, in\nretaining the sixth and seventh Essays,[375:1] which I had resolved to\nthrow out, as too frivolous for the rest, and not very agreeable\nneither, even in that trifling manner: but Millar, my bookseller, made\nsuch protestations against it, and told me how much he had heard them\npraised by the best judges, that the bowels of a parent melted, and I\npreserved them alive.\n\n\"All the rest of Bolingbroke's works went to the press last week, as\nMillar informs me. I confess my curiosity is not much raised.\n\n\"I had almost lost your letter by its being wrong directed. I received\nit late, which was the reason why you got not sooner a copy of Joannes\nMagnus. Direct to me in Riddal's Land, Lawnmarket. I am, dear Sir, yours\nsincerely.\"[376:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n_1753._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I need not inform you, that in certain polite countries,\na custom prevails, of writing _lettres de la nouvelle ann\u00e9e_, and that\nmany advantages result from this practice, which may seem merely\nceremonious and formal. Acquaintance is thereby kept up, friendship\nrevived, quarrels extinguished, negligence atoned for, and\ncorrespondences renewed. A man who has been so long conscious of his\nsins, that he knows not how to return into the way of salvation, taking\nadvantage of this great jubilee, wipes off all past offences, and\nobtains plenary indulgence; instances are not wanting of such reclaimed\nsinners, who have afterwards proved the greatest saints, and have even\nheaped up many works of supererogation. Will you allow me, therefore,\ndear Doctor, in consideration of my present penitence, and hopes of my\nfuture amendment, to address myself to you, and to wish you many and\nhappy new years, _multos et felices_. May pleasures spiritual\n(_spirituels_) multiply upon you without a decay of the carnal. May\nriches increase without an augmentation of desires. May your chariot\nstill roll along without a failure of your limbs. May your tongue in due\ntime acquire the _social sweet garrulity_ of age, without your teeth\nlosing the sharpness and keenness of youth. May ---- but you yourself\nwill best supply the last prayer, whether it should be for the recovery\nor continuance of the blessing which I hint at. In either case, may your\nprayer be granted, even though it should extend to the resurrection of\nthe dead.\n\n\"I must now set you an example, and speak of myself. By this I mean that\nyou are to speak to me of yourself. I shall exult and triumph to you a\nlittle, that I have now at last--being turned of forty, to my own\nhonour, to that of learning, and to that of the present age--arrived at\nthe dignity of being a householder. About seven months ago, I got a\nhouse of my own, and completed a regular family; consisting of a head,\nviz. myself, and two inferior members, a maid and a cat. My sister has\nsince joined me, and keeps me company. With frugality I can reach, I\nfind, cleanliness, warmth, light, plenty, and contentment. What would\nyou have more? Independence? I have it in a supreme degree. Honour? that\nis not altogether wanting. Grace? that will come in time. A wife? that\nis none of the indispensable requisites of life. Books? that _is_ one of\nthem; and I have more than I can use. In short, I cannot find any\nblessing of consequence which I am not possessed of, in a greater or\nless degree; and without any great effort of philosophy, I may be easy\nand satisfied.\n\n\"As there is no happiness without occupation, I have begun a work which\nwill employ me several years, and which yields me much satisfaction.\n'Tis a History of Britain, from the Union of the Crowns to the present\ntime. I have already finished the reign of King James. My friends\nflatter me (by this I mean that they don't flatter me) that I have\nsucceeded. You know that there is no post of honour in the English\nParnassus more vacant than that of history. Style, judgment,\nimpartiality, care--every thing is wanting to our historians; and even\nRapin, during this latter period, is extremely deficient. I make my work\nvery concise, after the manner of the ancients. It divides into three\nvery moderate volumes: one to end with the death of Charles the First;\nthe second at the Revolution; the third at the Accession,[378:1] for I\ndare come no nearer the present times. The work will neither please the\nDuke of Bedford nor James Fraser; but I hope it will please you and\nposterity. \u039a\u03c4\u1fc6\u03bc\u03b1 \u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76.\n\n\"So, dear Doctor, after having mended my pen, and bit my nails, I return\nto the narration of parliamentary factions, or court intrigues, or civil\nwars, and bid you heartily adieu.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, Riddal's Land, 5th January, 1753._\n\n\"P.S.--When I say that I dare come no nearer the present time than the\nAccession, you are not to imagine that I am afraid either of danger or\noffence; I hope, in many instances, that I have shown myself to be above\nall laws of prudence and discretion. I only mean, that I should be\nafraid of committing mistakes, in writing of so recent a period, by\nreason of the want of materials.\"[379:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 6th March, 1753._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--This is delivered to you by my friend Mr.\nWedderburn,[379:2] who makes a jaunt to London, partly with a view to\nstudy, partly to entertainment. I thought I could not do him a better\noffice, nor more suitable to both these purposes, than to recommend him\nto the friendship and acquaintance of a man of learning and\nconversation. He is young:\n\n                       'Mais dans les ames bien n\u00e9es\n     La vertue n'attend point le nombre des ann\u00e9es.'\n\nIt will be a great obligation, both to him and me, if you give him\nencouragement to see you frequently; and, after that, I doubt not you\nwill think that you owe me an obligation--\n\n     'La in giovenile corpo senile senno.'\n\n\"But I will say no more of him, lest my letter fall into the same fault\nwhich may be remarked in his behaviour and conduct in life; the only\nfault which has been remarked in them, that of promising so much that it\nwill be difficult for him to support it. You will allow that he must\nhave been guilty of some error of this kind, when I tell you that the\nman, with whose friendship and company I have thought myself very much\nfavoured, and whom I recommend to you as a friend and companion, is just\ntwenty. I am, dear Doctor, your affectionate friend and servant.\"[379:3]\n\n\nHUME _to_ JAMES OSWALD.\n\n\"_Jack's Land, 28th June, 1753._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am to give you great and very hearty thanks for your care\nin providing for my cousin, at my desire. The quickness in doing it, and\nthe many obliging circumstances attending that good office, I shall not\nreadily forget. What is usual, they say, makes little impression; but\nthat this rule admits of exceptions, I feel upon every instance of your\nfriendship.\n\n\"Mr. Mure told me that you had undertaken to get satisfaction with\nregard to the old English _subsidies_. I cannot satisfy myself on that\nhead; but I find that all historians and antiquarians are as much at a\nloss. The nobility, I observe, paid according to their rank and quality,\nnot their estates. The counties were subjected to no valuation; but it\nwas in the power of the commissioners to sink the sums demanded upon\nevery individual, without raising it upon others; and they practised\nthis art when discontented with the court, as Charles complains of with\nregard to the subsidies voted by his third parliament: yet it seems\ncertain that there must have been some rule of estimation. What was it?\nWhy was it so variable? Lord Strafford raised an Irish subsidy from\n\u00a312,000 to \u00a340,000, by changing the rule of valuation; but the Irish\nParliament, after his impeachment, brought it down again: if Mr. Harding\nundertakes the solution of this matter, it will be requisite to have\nthese difficulties in his eye. I am glad to hear that we are to have\nyour company here this summer, and that I shall have an opportunity of\ntalking over this, and many other subjects, where I want your advice and\nopinion. The more I advance in my work, the more I am convinced that the\nhistory of England has never yet been written; not only for style,\nwhich is notorious to all the world, but also for matter; such is the\nignorance and partiality of all our historians. Rapin, whom I had an\nesteem for, is totally despicable. I may be liable to the reproach of\nignorance, but I am certain of escaping that of partiality: the truth\nis, there is so much reason to blame, and praise, alternately, king and\nparliament, that I am afraid the mixture of both, in my composition,\nbeing so equal, may pass sometimes for an affectation, and not the\nresult of judgment and evidence. Of this you shall be judge; for I am\nresolved to encroach on your leisure and patience;\n\n     Quem vero arripuit, tenet occiditque legendo.\n\nLet me hear of you as you pass through the town, that we may concert\nmeasures for my catching you idle, and without company, at Kirkcaldy. I\nam,\" &c.[381:1]\n\n\nThe rapidity with which the first volume of the \"History of England\" was\ncomposed and printed, has been the object both of surprise and censure.\nHume's labours at this time must have been intense; and during the whole\nof the period in which he was engaged in the different departments of\nthis great work--from 1752 to 1763--his correspondence is more scanty\nthan at other periods of his history. Four months elapse between the\nletter last printed, and the next in order which has been preserved; and\nin the latter, we find him very wittily alluding to those great labours\nwhich he finds absorbing the petty duties of social intercourse.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_28th October, 1753._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I know not if you remember the giant in Rabelais, who\nswallowed every morning a windmill to breakfast, and at last was choked\nupon a pound of melted butter, hot from an oven. I am going to compare\nmyself to that giant. I think nothing of despatching a quarto in fifteen\nor eighteen months, but am not able to compose a letter once in two\nyears; and am very industrious to keep up a correspondence with\nposterity, whom I know nothing about, and who, probably, will concern\nthemselves very little about me, while I allow myself to be forgot by my\nfriends, whom I value and regard. However, it is some satisfaction that\nI can give you an account of my silence, with which I own I reproach\nmyself. I have now brought down my History to the death of Charles the\nFirst: and here I intend to pause for some time; to read, and think, and\ncorrect; to look forward and backward; and to adopt the most moderate\nand most reasonable sentiments on all subjects. I am sensible that the\nhistory of the two first Stuarts will be most agreeable to the Tories;\nthat of the two last to the Whigs; but we must endeavour to be above any\nregard either to Whigs or Tories.\n\n\"Having thus satisfied your curiosity--for I will take it for granted\nthat your curiosity extends towards me--I must now gratify my own. I was\nvery anxious to hear that you had been molested with some disorders this\nsummer. I was told that you expected they would settle into a fit of the\ngout. It is lucky where that distemper overtakes a man in his chariot:\nwe foot-walkers make but an awkward figure with it. I hope nobody has\nthe impertinence to say to you, Physician, cure thyself. All the world\nallows that privilege to the gout, that it is not to be cured: it is\nitself a physician; and, of course, sometimes cures and sometimes kills.\nI fancy one fit of the gout would much increase your stock of\ninterjections, and render that part of speech, which in common grammars\nis usually the most barren, with you more copious than either nouns or\nverbs.\n\n\"I must tell you good news of our friend Sir Harry. I am informed that\nhis talent for eloquence will not rust for want of employment: he bids\nfair for another seat of the house; and what is the charming part of the\nstory, it is General Anstruther's seat which he is to obtain. He has\nmade an attack on the General's boroughs, and, by the assistance of his\nuncle's interest and purse, is likely to prevail. Is not this delicious\nrevenge? It brings to my mind the story of the Italian, who reading that\npassage of Scripture, 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,' burst forth,\n'Ay, to be sure; it is too sweet for any mortal.' I own I envy Sir\nHarry: I never can hope to hate any body so perfectly as he does that\nrenowned commander; and no victory, triumph, vengeance, success, can be\nmore complete. Are not you pleased too? Pray, anatomize your own mind,\nand tell me how many grains of your satisfaction is owing to malice, and\nhow many ounces to friendship. I leave the rest of this paper to be\nfilled up by Edmonstone. I am, &c.\n\n\"P.S.--After keeping this by me eight days, I have never been able to\nmeet with Edmonstone. I must, therefore, send off my own part of a\nletter which we projected in common. I shall only tell you, that I have\nsince seen Mr. Oswald, who assures me that Anstruther's defeat is\ninfallible.\"[383:1]\n\n\nThe following letter to the same friend is a curious instance of Hume's\ndiligent efforts to attain a correct English style:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 8th Dec. 1753._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I am at present reduced to the utmost straits and\ndifficulties. I know people are commonly ashamed to own such distresses.\nBut to whom can one have recourse in his misfortunes, but to his\nfriends? and who can I account my friend, if not Dr. Clephane? not a\nfriend only in the sunshine of fortune, but also in the shade of\nadversity: not a security only in a calm; but in a storm a sheet-anchor.\nBut, to cut short all prefaces,--though, commonly, beggars and authors\nabound with them, and I unite both these qualities,--the occasion of my\ndistress is as follows:\n\n\"You know that the word _enough_, or _enuff_, as it is pronounced by the\nEnglish, we commonly, in Scotland, when it is applied to number,\npronounce enow. Thus we would say: such a one has books enow for study,\nbut not leisure enuff. Now I want to know, whether the English make the\nsame distinction. I observed the distinction already in Lord\nShaftesbury; 'Though there be doors enow,' says he, 'to get out of\nlife;' and thinking that this distinction of spelling words, that had\nboth different letters, and different pronunciation, was an improvement,\nI followed it in my learned productions, though I knew it was not usual.\nBut there has lately arisen in me a doubt, that this is a mere\nScotticism; and that the English always pronounce the word, as if it\nwere wrote enuff, whether it be applied to numbers or to quantity. To\nyou, therefore, I apply in this doubt and perplexity. Though I make no\nquestion that your ear is well purged from all native impurities, yet\ntrust not entirely to it, but ask any of your English friends, that\nfrequent good company, and let me know their opinion.\n\n\"It is a rule of Vaugelas always to consult the ladies, rather than men,\nin all doubts of language; and he asserts, that they have a more\ndelicate sense of the propriety of expressions. The same author advises\nus, if we desire any one's opinion in any grammatical difficulty, not to\nask him directly; for that confounds his memory, and makes him forget\nthe use, which is the true standard of language. The best way, says he,\nis to engage him as it were by accident, to employ the expression about\nwhich we are in doubt. Now, if you are provided of any expedient, for\nmaking the ladies pronounce the word enough, applied both to quantity\nand number, I beg you to employ it, and to observe carefully and\nattentively, whether they make any difference in the pronunciation. I\nam, &c.\n\n\"P.S.--I am quite in earnest in desiring a solution of my grammatical\ndoubt.\"[385:1]\n\n\nThe gentle sensitive character, and hard fate of poor blind Thomas\nBlacklock, the poet, operated strongly on Hume's kindly feelings. He\nbusied himself with many schemes for enabling his unfortunate friend to\ngain a subsistence which might make him enjoy \"the glorious privilege of\nbeing independent:\" but with small success. This appears to be the only\npursuit which he permitted to divert his attention, at this time, from\nhis great work. We find him writing the following letter to a person\nwhose position in society might enable him to do some substantial\nservice to Blacklock.\n\n\nHUME _to_ MATTHEW SHARP _of Hoddam_.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 25th February, 1754._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I have enclosed this letter under one to my friend Mr.\nBlacklock, who has retired to Dumfries, and proposes to reside there for\nsome time. His character and situation are no doubt known to you, and\nchallenge the greatest regard from every one who has either good taste\nor sentiments of humanity. He has printed a collection of poems, which\nhis friends are endeavouring to turn to the best account for him. Had he\npublished them in the common way, their merit would have recommended\nthem sufficiently to common sale; but, in that case, the greatest part\nof the profit, it is well known, would have redounded to the\nbooksellers. His friends, therefore, take copies from him, and\ndistribute them among their acquaintances. The poems, if I have the\nsmallest judgment, are, many of them, extremely beautiful, and all of\nthem remarkable for correctness and propriety. Every man of taste, from\nthe merit of the performance, would be inclined to purchase them: every\nbenevolent man, from the situation of the author, would wish to\nencourage him; and, as for those who have neither taste nor benevolence,\nthey should be forced, by importunity, to do good against their will. I\nmust, therefore, recommend it to you to send for a cargo of these poems,\nwhich the author's great modesty will prevent him from offering to you,\nand to engage your acquaintance to purchase them. But, dear sir, I would\nfain go farther: I would fain presume upon our friendship, (which now\nbegins to be ancient between us,) and recommend to your civilities a man\nwho does honour to his country by his talents, and disgraces it by the\nlittle encouragement he has hitherto met with. He is a man of very\nextensive knowledge and of singular good dispositions; and his\npoetical, though very much to be admired, is the least part of his\nmerit. He is very well qualified to instruct youth, by his acquaintance\nboth with the languages and sciences; and possesses so many arts of\nsupplying the want of sight, that that imperfection would be no\nhinderance. Perhaps he may entertain some such project in Dumfries; and\nbe assured you could not do your friends a more real service than by\nrecommending them to him. Whatever scheme he may choose to embrace, I\nwas desirous you should be prepossessed in his favour, and be willing to\nlend him your countenance and protection, which I am sensible would be\nof great advantage to him.\n\n\"Since I saw you, I have not been idle. I have endeavoured to make some\nuse of the library which was intrusted to me, and have employed myself\nin a composition of British History, beginning with the union of the two\ncrowns. I have finished the reigns of James and Charles, and will soon\nsend them to the press. I have the impudence to pretend that I am of no\nparty, and have no bias. Lord Elibank says, that I am a moderate Whig,\nand Mr. Wallace that I am a candid Tory. I was extremely sorry that I\ncould not recommend your friend to Director Hume,[387:1] as Mr. Cummin\ndesired me. I have never exchanged a word with that gentleman since I\ncarried Jemmy Kirkpatrick to him; and our acquaintance has entirely\ndropt. I am,\" &c.[387:2]\n\n\nAnother letter by Hume, longer and fuller of detail, though it has\nalready appeared in a work well known and much read,[387:3] seems to\ndemand insertion here. It is addressed to the author of Polymetis and\nfriend of Pope.\n\n\nHUME _to_ JOSEPH SPENCE.\n\n     _Edinburgh, Oct. 15, 1754._\n\n     SIR,--The agreeable productions, with which you have\n     entertained the public, have long given me a desire of being\n     known to you: but this desire has been much increased by my\n     finding you engage so warmly in protecting a man of merit, so\n     helpless as Mr. Blacklock. I hope you will indulge me in the\n     liberty I have taken of writing to you. I shall very willingly\n     communicate all the particulars I know of him; though others,\n     by their longer acquaintance with him, are better qualified\n     for this undertaking.\n\n     The first time I had ever seen or heard of Mr. Blacklock was\n     about twelve years ago, when I met him in a visit to two young\n     ladies. They informed me of his case, as far as they could in\n     a conversation carried on in his presence. I soon found him to\n     possess a very delicate taste, along with a passionate love of\n     learning. Dr. Stevenson had, at that time, taken him under his\n     protection; and he was perfecting himself in the Latin tongue.\n     I repeated to him Mr. Pope's elegy to the memory of an\n     unfortunate lady, which I happened to have by heart: and\n     though I be a very bad reciter, I saw it affected him\n     extremely. His eyes, indeed, the great index of the mind,\n     could express no passion: but his whole body was thrown into\n     agitation. That poem was equally qualified to touch the\n     delicacy of his taste, and the tenderness of his feelings. I\n     left the town a few days after; and being long absent from\n     Scotland, I neither saw nor heard of him for several years. At\n     last an acquaintance of mine told me of him, and said that he\n     would have waited on me, if his excessive modesty had not\n     prevented him. He soon appeared what I have ever since found\n     him, a very elegant genius, of a most affectionate grateful\n     disposition, a modest backward temper, accompanied with that\n     delicate pride, which so naturally attends virtue in distress.\n     His great moderation and frugality, along with the generosity\n     of a few persons, particularly Dr. Stevenson and Provost\n     Alexander, had hitherto enabled him to subsist. All his good\n     qualities are diminished, or rather perhaps embellished, by a\n     great want of knowledge of the world. Men of very benevolent\n     or very malignant dispositions are apt to fall into this\n     error; because they think all mankind like themselves: but I\n     am sorry to say that the former are apt to be most egregiously\n     mistaken.\n\n     I have asked him whether he retained any idea of light or\n     colours. He assured me that there remained not the least\n     traces of them. I found, however, that all the poets, even the\n     most descriptive ones, such as Milton and Thomson, were read\n     by him with pleasure. Thomson is one of his favourites. I\n     remembered a story in Locke of a blind man, who said that he\n     knew very well what scarlet was: it was like the sound of a\n     trumpet. I therefore asked him, whether he had not formed\n     associations of that kind, and whether he did not connect\n     colour and sound together. He answered, that as he met so\n     often, both in books and conversation, with the terms\n     expressing colours, he had formed some false associations,\n     which supported him when he read, wrote, or talked of colours:\n     but that the associations were of the intellectual kind. The\n     illumination of the sun, for instance, he supposed to resemble\n     the presence of a friend; the cheerful colour of green, to be\n     like an amiable sympathy, &c. It was not altogether easy for\n     me to understand him: though I believe, in much of our own\n     thinking, there will be found some species of association.\n     'Tis certain we always think in some language, viz. in that\n     which is most familiar to us; and 'tis but too frequent to\n     substitute words instead of ideas.\n\n     If you was acquainted with any mystic, I fancy you would think\n     Mr. Blacklock's case less paradoxical. The mystics certainly\n     have associations by which their discourse, which seems jargon\n     to us, becomes intelligible to themselves. I believe they\n     commonly substitute the feelings of a common amour, in the\n     place of their heavenly sympathies: and if they be not belied,\n     the type is very apt to engross their hearts, and exclude the\n     thing typified.\n\n     Apropos to this passion, I once said to my friend, Mr.\n     Blacklock, that I was sure he did not treat love as he did\n     colours; he did not speak of it without feeling it. There\n     appeared too much reality in all his expressions to allow that\n     to be suspected. \"Alas!\" said he, with a sigh, \"I could never\n     bring my heart to a proper tranquillity on that head.\" Your\n     passion, replied I, will always be better founded than ours,\n     who have sight: we are so foolish as to allow ourselves to be\n     captivated by exterior beauty: nothing but the beauty of the\n     mind can affect you. \"Not altogether neither,\" said he: \"the\n     sweetness of the voice has a mighty effect upon me: the\n     symptoms of youth too, which the touch discovers, have great\n     influence. And though such familiar approaches would be\n     ill-bred in others, the girls of my acquaintance indulge me,\n     on account of my blindness, with the liberty of running over\n     them with my hand. And I can by that means judge entirely of\n     their shape. However, no doubt, humour, and temper, and sense,\n     and other beauties of the mind, have an influence upon me as\n     upon others.\"\n\n     You may see from this conversation how difficult it is even\n     for a blind man to be a perfect Platonic. But though Mr.\n     Blacklock never wants his Evanthe, who is the real object of\n     his poetical addresses, I am well assured that all his\n     passions have been perfectly consistent with the purest virtue\n     and innocence. His life indeed has been in all respects\n     perfectly irreproachable.\n\n     He had got some rudiments of Latin in his youth, but could not\n     easily read a Latin author till he was near twenty, when Dr.\n     Stevenson put him to a grammar school in Edinburgh. He got a\n     boy to lead him, whom he found very docible; and he taught him\n     Latin. This boy accompanied him to the Greek class in the\n     College, and they both learned Greek. Mr. Blacklock\n     understands that language perfectly, and has read with a very\n     lively pleasure all the Greek authors of taste. Mr. William\n     Alexander, second son to our late provost, and present member,\n     was so good as to teach him French; and he is quite master of\n     that language. He has a very tenacious memory and a quick\n     apprehension. The young students of the College were very\n     desirous of his company, and he reaped the advantage of their\n     eyes, and they of his instructions. He is a very good\n     philosopher, and in general possesses all branches of\n     erudition, except the mathematical. The lad who first attended\n     him having left him, he has got another boy, whom he is\n     beginning to instruct; and he writes me that he is extremely\n     pleased with his docility. The boy's parents, who are people\n     of substance, have put him into Mr. Blacklock's service,\n     chiefly on account of the virtuous and learned education which\n     they know he gives his pupils.\n\n     As you are so generous to interest yourself in this poor man's\n     case, who is so much an object both of admiration and\n     compassion, I must inform you entirely of his situation. He\n     has gained about one hundred guineas by this last edition of\n     his poems, and this is the whole stock he has in the world. He\n     has also a bursary, about six pounds a-year. I begun a\n     subscription for supporting him during five years; and I made\n     out twelve guineas a-year among my acquaintance. That is a\n     most terrible undertaking; and some unexpected refusals I met\n     with, damped me, though they have not quite discouraged me\n     from proceeding. We have the prospect of another bursary of\n     ten pounds a-year in the gift of the exchequer; but to the\n     shame of human nature, we met with difficulties. Noblemen\n     interpose with their valet-de-chambres or nurses' sons, who\n     they think would be burdens on themselves. Could we ensure but\n     thirty pounds a-year to this fine genius and man of virtue, he\n     would be easy and happy: for his wants are none but those\n     which Nature has given him, though she has unhappily loaded\n     him with more than other men.\n\n     His want of knowledge of the world, and the great delicacy of\n     his temper, render him unfit for managing boys or teaching a\n     school: he would retain no authority. Had it not been for this\n     defect, he could have been made professor of Greek in the\n     University of Aberdeen.\n\n     Your scheme of publishing his poems by subscription, I hope\n     will turn to account. I think it impossible he could want,\n     were his case more generally known. I hope it will be so by\n     your means. Sir George Lyttleton, who has so fine a taste, and\n     so much benevolence of temper, would certainly, were the case\n     laid before him in a just light, lend his assistance, or\n     rather indeed quite overcome all difficulties. I know not,\n     whether you have the happiness of that gentleman's\n     acquaintance.\n\n     As you are a lover of letters, I shall inform you of a piece\n     of news, which will be agreeable to you: we may hope to see\n     good tragedies in the English language. A young man called\n     Hume, a clergyman of this country, discovers a very fine\n     genius for that species of composition. Some years ago, he\n     wrote a tragedy called Agis, which some of the best judges,\n     such as the Duke of Argyle, Sir George Lyttleton, Mr. Pitt,\n     very much approved of. I own, though I could perceive fine\n     strokes in that tragedy, I never could in general bring myself\n     to like it: the author, I thought, had corrupted his taste by\n     the imitation of Shakspere, whom he ought only to have\n     admired. But the same author has composed a new tragedy on a\n     subject of invention; and here he appears a true disciple of\n     Sophocles and Racine. I hope in time he will vindicate the\n     English stage from the reproach of barbarism.\n\n     I shall be very glad if the employing my name in your account\n     of Mr. Blacklock can be of any service. I am, Sir, with great\n     regard, &c.\n\n     P.S.--Mr. Blacklock is very docible, and glad to receive\n     corrections. I am only afraid he is too apt to have a\n     deference for other people's judgment. I did not see the last\n     edition till it was printed; but I have sent him some\n     objections to passages, for which he was very thankful. I also\n     desired him to retrench some poems entirely; such as the Ode\n     on Fortitude, and some others, which seemed to me inferior to\n     the rest of the collection. You will very much oblige him, if\n     you use the same freedom. I remarked to him some Scotticisms;\n     but you are better qualified for doing him that service. I\n     have not seen any of his essays; and am afraid his prose is\n     inferior to his poetry. He will soon be in town, when I shall\n     be enabled to write you further particulars.\n\nIn 1756, Spence published his edition of Blacklock's poems, with a long\nintroduction, in which all allusion to Hume's letter, and his services\nto Blacklock, is carefully avoided. Blacklock was subsequently\nalienated from Hume, and was accused by some of ingratitude; while\nothers threw the odium of the dispute on Hume, who, they said, was\nmortified because Spence's edition of Blacklock's Poems was not\ndedicated to him. Whoever may have been in the wrong, the latter\nsupposition is erroneous, as we shall find Hume at a much later period\nconferring services on Blacklock, who in his turn gratefully\nacknowledges them. The zeal of Spence to blot from the work any mark\nthat might connect it with the name of Hume, is alluded to with\ngood-natured sarcasm, in a letter to Dr. Clephane, farther on.\n\nThe following letter, connected with another curious circumstance,\ndescribes an incident in Hume's conduct to Blacklock.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 17th December, 1754._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I told you that I intended to apply to the Faculty for\nredress; and, if refused, to throw up the library. I was assured that\ntwo of the curators intended before the Faculty to declare their\nwillingness to redress me, after which there could be no difficulty to\ngain a victory over the other two. But before the day came, the Dean\nprevailed on them to change their resolution, and joined them himself\nwith all his interest. I saw it then impossible to succeed, and\naccordingly retracted my application. But being equally unwilling to\nlose the use of the books, and to bear an indignity, I retain the\noffice, but have given Blacklock, our blind poet, a bond of annuity for\nthe salary. I have now put it out of these malicious fellows' power to\noffer me any indignity, while my motive for remaining in this office is\nso apparent. I should be glad that you approve of my conduct. I own I\nam satisfied with myself.\"[394:1]\n\n\nThe following minute or memorandum, in Hume's handwriting,[394:2]\nexplains the ground of his disgust. One of the \"malicious fellows\"\nappears to have been Lord Monboddo; another, Sir David Dalrymple,\nafterwards Lord Hailes, with whom he never was on very cordial terms.\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 27th June, 1754._\n\n\"This day Mr. James Burnet, [Mr. Thomas Millar,] and Sir David\nDalrymple, curators of the library, (then follow some arrangement as to\nmeetings,) having gone through some accounts of books, lately bought for\nthe library, and finding therein the three following French books, Les\nContes de La Fontaine, L'Histoire Amoureuse des Gaules, and L'\u00c9cumoire,\nthey ordain that the said books be struck out of the catalogue of the\nlibrary, and removed from the shelves as indecent books, and unworthy of\na place in a learned library.\n\n\"And to prevent the like abuses in time to come, they appoint that after\nthis no books shall be bought for the library, without the authority of\na meeting of the curators in time of session, and of two of them in time\nof vacation.\"\n\n\nIt involves no approval of the licentious features of French literature,\nto pronounce this resolution of the curators pre-eminently absurd. A\npublic library, purged of every book of which any portion might offend\nthe taste of a well-regulated mind of the present day, would\nunfortunately be very barren in the most brilliant departments of the\nliterature of other days and other languages. It would be wrong in the\nguardians of a public library to advance to the dignity of its shelves,\nthose loathsome books written for the promotion of vice, of which,\nthough they be published by no eminent bookseller, exhibited on no\nrespectable counter, advertised in no newspaper, too many have found\ntheir way, by secret avenues, into the heart of society, where they\ncorrupt its life-blood. But if Greece, Rome, and France,--if our own\nancestors, had a freer tone in their imaginative literature than we\nhave, we must yet admit their works to our libraries, if we would have\nthese institutions depositaries of the genius of all times and all\nplaces. The Faculty of Advocates are probably not less virtuous at this\nmoment than they were in 1754, yet they have now on their shelves the\nbrilliant edition of all La Fontaine's works, published at Amsterdam in\n1762,--so that the expurgatory zeal of the three curators, had only put\ntheir constituents to the expense of replacing the condemned\nbook.[396:1] L'\u00c9cumoire may also still be found in the Advocates'\nlibrary, along with the other still more censurable works of its author,\nCrebillon the younger, who was certainly a free writer, but scarcely\ndeserved the very opprobrious name which he obtained, of the French\nPetronius. Hume was afterwards the acquaintance and correspondent of\nthis author, who was anxious to hear that his works were well received\nin Britain. Would Hume tell him that it was considered in Edinburgh an\noffence against decency, to admit one of them to a national library? The\nother condemned work, which is generally attributed to Bussy Rabutin, is\nnot now to be found in the catalogues of the Advocates' library.[396:2]\n\nAmidst such unpleasant interruptions he brought the first volume of his\nHistory to a conclusion; and thus announces the fact to a friend, while\nin the midst of his satisfaction he does not forget poor Blacklock.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Sept. 1, 1754._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I desire you to give me joy. _Jamque opus exegi, &c._\nThis day I received from the press the last sheet of the volume of\nhistory which I intended to publish; and I am already well advanced in\ncomposing the second volume. It was impossible for the booksellers to\nrefuse to several the sight of the sheets as we went on; and Whig and\nTory, and Tory and Whig, (for I will alternately give them the\nprecedence,) combine as I am told in approving of my politics. A few\nChristians only (and but a few) think I speak like a Libertine in\nreligion: be assured I am tolerably reserved on this head. Elliot tells\nme that you had entertained apprehensions of my discretion: what I had\ndone to forfeit with you the character of prudence, I cannot tell, but\nyou will see little or no occasion for any such imputation in this work.\nI composed it _ad populum_, as well as _ad clerum_, and thought, that\nscepticism was not in its place in an historical production. I shall\ntake care to convey a copy to you by the first opportunity, and shall be\nvery proud of your approbation, and no less pleased with your\nreprehensions.\n\n\"Our friend Aber is again to enjoy the privilege of franking after a\n_hiatus valde deflendus_. Edmonstone is at Peterhead drinking the waters\nfor his health. Sir Harry lives among his boroughs, but not so assiduous\nin his civilities as formerly; an instance of ingratitude which one\nwould not expect in a man of such nice honour. I was lately told, that\none day last winter he went to pay a visit to a deacon's wife, who\nhappened in that very instant to be gutting fish. He came up to her with\nopen arms, and said he hoped madam was well, and that the young ladies\nher daughters were in good health. 'Oh, come not near me,' cried she,\n'Sir Harry; I am in a sad pickle, as nasty as a beast.'--'Not at all,\nmadam,' replied he, 'you are in a very agreeable n\u00e9glig\u00e9.' 'Well,' said\nshe, 'I shall never be able to understand your fine English.'--'I mean,\nmadam,' returned he, 'that you are drest in a very genteel\n_deshabill\u00e9_.'\n\n\"There is a young man of this country, Mr. Thomas Blacklock, who has\ndiscovered a very fine genius for poetry, and under very extraordinary\ncircumstances. He is the son of a poor tradesman, and was born blind;\nyet, notwithstanding these disadvantages, he has been able to acquire a\ngreat knowledge of Greek, Latin, and French, and to be well acquainted\nwith all the classics in these languages, as well as in our own. He\npublished last winter a volume of Miscellanies, which all men of taste\nadmired extremely for their purity, elegance, and correctness; nor were\nthey devoid of force and invention. I sent up half-a-dozen to Dodsley,\ndesiring him to keep one, and to distribute the rest among men of taste\nof his acquaintance. I find they have been much approved of, and that\nMr. Spence, in particular, has entertained thoughts of printing a new\nedition by subscription, for the benefit of the author. You are an\nacquaintance of Mr. Spence: encourage, I beseech you, so benevolent a\nthought, and promote it every where by your recommendation. The young\nman has a great deal of modesty, virtue, and goodness, as well as of\ngenius, and notwithstanding very strict frugality, is in great\nnecessities; but curst, or blest, with that honest pride of nature,\nwhich makes him uneasy under obligations, and disdain all applications.\nI need say no more to you. Dear Doctor, believe me, with great honesty\nand affection, your friend and servant.\"[399:1]\n\n\nBefore the year 1754 came to an end, there was published, in a quarto\nvolume of four hundred and seventy-three pages, \"The History of Great\nBritain. Volume I. Containing the reigns of James I. and Charles I. By\nDavid Hume, Esq.\"[399:2] He had now laid the foundation of a title to\nthat which all the genius and originality of his philosophical works\nwould never have procured for him--the reputation of a popular author.\nHis other works might exhibit a wider and a more original grasp of\nthought: but the readers of metaphysics and ethics are a small number;\nwhile the readers of history, and especially of the history of their own\ncountry, are a community nearly as great as the number of those who can\nread their own language. In this large market he produced his ware; and\nafter some hesitation on the part of those ordinary readers, who had\nnever known his genius as a philosopher, and of those who knew his\nprevious writings, but did not esteem them, it took the place of a\npermanent marketable commodity--a sort of necessary of literary life.\nThe general reader found in it a distinct and animated narrative,\nannounced in a style easy, strong, and elegant. The philosopher and\nstatesman found in it profound and original views, such as the author of\nthe \"Treatise of Human Nature\" could not wield the pen without\noccasionally dropping on his page. It was a work at once great in its\nexcellencies and beauties, and great in its defects; yet even the\nlatter circumstance swelled its fame, by producing a host of\ncontroversial attacks, conducted by no mean champions. No author or\nspeaker could launch into a defence of monarchical prerogative without\ntriumphantly citing the opinion of Hume;--no friend of any popular\ncause, from Chatham downwards, could appeal to history without\ncondemning his plausible perversions. No season of a debating society\nhas ever ended without the vexed questions he has started being\ndiscussed in conjunction with his name. Every newspaper has recorded the\neditor's opinion of the tendency of Hume's History. In reviews and\nmagazines, and political pamphlets, the references, laudatory or\ncondemnatory, are still, notwithstanding all that has been done for\nBritish history in later times, unceasing; and some books, of no small\nbulk, have been written, solely against the History, as one pamphlet is\nwritten against another.\n\nOf a book which is so universally known, and has been subjected to so\nthorough a critical examination, both in its narrative and its\nreflective parts, a detailed criticism in a work like the present would\nbe superfluous and unwelcome. But the great extent of the controversial\nwritings on the subject, the quantity of able criticism which the\ncontroversy has produced, the new light it has frequently been the means\nof throwing on portions of British history, and the variety of\ncontending opinions it has elicited, do, in some measure, enable one who\nis partial to that kind of reading, to note slightly and fugitively the\nleading opinions which this controversy has developed; and thus, looking\nback through the whole vista of debate and inquiry, to describe, in\ngeneral terms, the estimate which those who have since Hume's time\nstudied British history to best effect, have formed of his great work.\nPerhaps, for casting a glance at the general principles he has announced\nas to the progress of the constitution and public opinion in Britain, as\nwell as the general scope and extent of his historical labours, his work\nmay be divided into two leading departments; the history from the\naccession of the house of Tudor downwards, which he completed in 1759;\nand the history anterior to that epoch, which was published at a later\nperiod of his life. In this arrangement, the general observations will\nfind their place in a subsequent portion of this work; while, in the\nmeantime, the opinions entertained of the narrative department of the\nvolume, published in 1754, may be noticed.\n\nThe chief charge brought against it has been, that in describing the\ngreat conflict which ended in the protectorate, the author has shown a\npartiality to the side of the monarch, and particularly to Charles I.\nand his followers; and has endeavoured to make the opposite\nside--Independents, Presbyterians, Republicans, or under whatever name\nthey raised the banner of opposition to the court--odious and\nridiculous.\n\nBefore Hume's day, every historian of those times took his side from the\nbeginning of the narrative, and proclaimed himself either the champion\nor the opponent of the monarchical party. Salmon, Echard, and\nCarte[401:1] wrote histories, in which, if they had spoken with decency\nor temper of Oliver Cromwell, the Long Parliament, the Presbyterians, or\nthe Independents, they would have felt that they had as much neglected\ntheir duty, as an advocate who, seeing some irregularity in the case of\nthe opposite party, fails to take advantage of it. The title-page of\nSalmon announced his project: it promised \"Remarks on Rapin, Burnet, and\nother Republican writers, vindicating the just right of the Established\nChurch, and the prerogatives of the crown, against the wild schemes of\nenthusiasts and levellers, no less active and diligent in promoting the\nsubversion of this beautiful frame of government, than their artful\npredecessors in hypocrisy,\" &c. But Hume professed to approach the\nsubject as a philosopher, and to hold the balance even between Salmon\nand Echard on the one side, and Oldmixon and Rapin on the other. Hence,\nwhen it was believed that, under this air of impartiality, he masked a\nbattery well loaded and skilfully pointed against the principles of the\nconstitution, and the efforts of those who had fought for freedom, a\nlouder cry of indignation was raised against him than had ever assailed\nthe avowed retainers of the anti-popular cause.\n\nThe tendency of the History was unexpected and inexplicable. In his\nphilosophical examination of the principles of government, written in\ntimes of hot party feeling, he had discarded the theories of arbitrary\nprerogative and divine right with bold and calm disdain. His utilitarian\ntheory represented the good of the people, not the will or advantage of\nany one man, or small class of men, as the right object of government.\nHarrison, Milton, and Sidney, had not expressed opinions more thoroughly\ndemocratic than his. \"Few things,\" says a critic, well accustomed to\ntrace literary anomalies to their causes in the minds of their authors,\n\"are more unaccountable, and, indeed, absurd, than that Hume should have\ntaken part with high church and high monarchy men. The persecutions\nwhich he suffered in his youth from the Presbyterians, may, perhaps,\nhave influenced his ecclesiastical partialities.[403:1] But that he\nshould have sided with the Tudors and the Stuarts against the people,\nseems quite inconsistent with all the great traits of his character. His\nunrivalled sagacity must have looked with contempt on the preposterous\narguments by which the _jus divinum_ was maintained. His natural\nbenevolence must have suggested the cruelty of subjecting the enjoyments\nof thousands to the caprice of one unfeeling individual; and his own\npractical independence in private life, might have taught him the value\nof those feelings which he has so mischievously derided.\"[403:2]\n\nIn truth, it does not appear that Hume had begun his work with the\nintention of adopting a side in the politics of the time; and that\nsympathy, rather than rational conviction or political prejudice,\ndictated his partisanship. His misapprehensions regarding the state of\nthe constitution, and the early foundation of British liberties, may be\nattributed to another cause; but in his treatment of the question\nbetween Charles I. and his opponents, he appears to have set out with\nthe design of preserving a rigid neutrality; to have gradually felt his\nsympathies wavering,--to have at first restrained them, then let them\nsway him slightly from the even middle path, and finally allowed them to\ntake possession of his opinions; opinions which, in their form of\nexpression, still preserved that tone of calm impartiality with which\nhe had set out. In the work of Clarendon--a scholar, a gentleman, a\ndignified and elegant writer, a man of high-toned and manly feeling--he\nfound an attractive guide. In looking at the structure of Hume's\nnarrative, we can see that Clarendon was the author, whose account of\nthe great conflict was chiefly present to his mind; and dwelling on his\nwords and ideas, he must have in some measure felt the influence of that\nplausible writer. As he went on with his narrative, he found on the one\nside refinement and heroism, an elevated and learned priesthood, a\nchivalrous aristocracy, a refined court,--all \"the divinity\" that \"doth\nhedge a king,\" followed by all the sad solemnity of fallen\ngreatness,--an adverse contest, borne with steady courage, and\nhumiliation and death endured with patient magnanimity. On the other\nside appeared plebeian thoughts, rude uncivil speech, barbarous and\nludicrous fanaticism, and success consummated by ungenerous triumphs.\nHis philosophical indifference gave way before such temptations, and he\nwent the way of his sympathies. Yet he never permitted himself boldly\nand distinctly to profess partisanship: he still bore the badge of\nneutrality; and perhaps believed that he was swerving neither to the\nright hand nor to the left. An eloquent writer has thus vividly\ndescribed the tone of his History:\n\n     Hume, without positively asserting more than he can prove,\n     gives prominence to all the circumstances which can support\n     his case. He glides lightly over those which are unfavourable\n     to it. His own witnesses are applauded and encouraged; the\n     statements which seem to throw discredit on them are\n     controverted; the contradictions into which they fall are\n     explained away; a clear and connected abstract of their\n     evidence is given. Every thing that is offered on the other\n     side is scrutinized with the utmost severity; every suspicious\n     circumstance is a ground for comment and invective; what\n     cannot be denied is extenuated, or passed by without notice.\n     Concessions even are sometimes made; but this insidious\n     candour only increases the effect of this vast mass of\n     sophistry.[405:1]\n\nYet when there was any thing of a grand and solemn character in the\nproceedings of the Republican party,--when they were not connected with\nthe rude guards, and their insults to the fallen majesty of England;\nwith the long psalms, long sermons, and long faces of the Puritans; with\nTrouble-world Lilburne, Praise-God Barebones, or eccentric, stubborn,\nimpracticable William Prynne,--he could employ the easy majesty of his\nlanguage in surrounding them with a suiting dignity of tone; and he did\nso with apparent pleasure. Witness his description of the meeting of the\nLong Parliament, and of the preparations for the king's trial before the\nHigh Court of Justice.\n\nHe seems to have felt, not unfrequently, the inconsistencies that must\nbe perceptible between the tone of his historical, and the political\ndoctrines of his philosophical works; and his attempts to reconcile them\nwith each other, sometimes only serve to make the difference more\nconspicuous. Speaking of the act of holding judgment on Charles I., he\nsays, \"If ever, on any occasion, it were laudable to conceal truth from\nthe populace, it must be confessed that the doctrine of resistance\naffords such an example; and that all speculative reasoners ought to\nobserve, with regard to this principle, the same cautious silence which\nthe laws, in every species of government, have ever prescribed to\nthemselves.\" One could imagine a congress of crowned heads, or a\nconclave of cardinals, adopting such a view; and resolving, at the same\nmoment, that it should be kept as secret as the grave. But that a man\nshould speak of the right of resistance as existing, and say the\nknowledge of it ought not to be promulgated, and print and publish this\nin a book in his own vernacular language, is surely as remarkable an\nanomaly, as the history of practical contradictions can exhibit.\n\nOwing to his opinion of the manner in which the Abb\u00e9 Le Blanc had\nrendered his \"Political Discourses\" into French, he expressed a wish, in\nthe following courteous letter, that the History should have the benefit\nof being translated by the same hand.\n\n\nHUME _to the_ ABB\u00c9 LE BLANC.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 15th October, 1754._\n\n\"SIR,--You will receive, along with this, a copy of the first volume of\nmy 'History of Great Britain,' which will be published next winter in\nLondon. The honour which you did me in translating my 'Political\nDiscourses,' inspires me with an ambition of desiring to have this work\ntranslated by the same excellent hand. The great curiosity of the events\nrelated in this volume, embellished by your elegant pen, might challenge\nthe attention of the public. If you do not undertake this translation, I\ndespair of ever seeing it done in a satisfactory manner. Many\nintricacies in the English government,--many customs peculiar to this\nisland, require explication; and it will be necessary to accompany the\ntranslation with some notes, however short, in order to render it\nintelligible to foreigners. None but a person as well acquainted as you\nwith England and the English constitution, can pretend to clear up\nobscurities, or explain the difficulties which occur. If, at any time,\nyou find yourself at a loss, be so good as to inform me. I shall spare\nno pains to solve all doubts; and convey all the lights which, by my\nlong and assiduous study of the subject, I may have acquired. The\ndistance betwixt us need be no impediment to this correspondence. If you\nfavour me frequently with your letters, I shall be able to render you\nthe same service as if I had the happiness of living next door to you,\nand was able to inspect the whole translation. In this attempt, the\nknowledge of the two languages is but one circumstance to qualify a man\nfor a translator. Though your attainments, in this respect, be known to\nall the world, I own that I trust more to the spirit of reflection and\nreasoning which you discover; and I thence expect that my performance\nwill not only have justice done it, but will even receive considerable\nimprovements as it passes through your hands. I am, with great regard,\nSir, your most obedient and most humble servant.\"[407:1]\n\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 received the proposal with rapture: he offered to translate\nwith the zeal not only of the illustrious author's admirer, but of his\nfriend. He desired Hume to postpone the publication for a while in\nLondon, and to send him the sheets with the utmost rapidity, lest he\nmight be forestalled by some of that numerous host of rapid penmen, who\nare ready, in obedience to the commands of the booksellers, to translate\nsuch works, without knowing English, or even French. Holland was at that\nperiod a great book mart, and there the Abb\u00e9 found rivals still more\nexpeditious; for he was obliged to write to Hume, at a time when he\nseems to have made little or no progress with his work, stating that he\nis disheartened by the prospect of the immediate appearance of a\ntranslation in Holland, where they employ, in the rendering of excellent\nbooks into French, people who are only fit to manufacture paper. In the\nend, having encountered a host of interruptions, he intimates that he\nhas placed the work in the hands of another person.[408:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Oct. 18th, 1754._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I received your kind letter, for which I thank you. Poor\nAber[408:2] is disappointed by a train of Norland finesse, alas--what\nyou will. I have given orders to deliver to you a copy of my History,\nas soon as it arrives in London, and before it be published. Lend it not\ntill it be published. It contains no paradoxes, and very little\nprofaneness,--as little as could be expected. The Abb\u00e9 Le Blanc, who has\ntranslated some other of my pieces, intends to translate it, and the\nenclosed is part of a copy I send him: excuse the freedom--you may\nperhaps receive some other packets of the same kind, which you will\nplease to send carefully to the post-house. The General and Sir Henry\nare in town, who remember you. Edmonstone is well, and I just now left\nhim a-bed. I may perhaps be in London for good and all in a year or two.\nShow me that frugality could make \u00a3120 a-year do, and I am with you: a\nman of letters ought always to live in a capital, says Bayle. I believe\nI have no more to say. You'll own that my style has not become more\nverbose, on account of my writing quartos. Yours affectionately,\"\n&c.[409:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.\n\n\"DEAR MURE,--I had sent to Sharpe a copy of my History, of which I hope\nyou will tell me your opinion with freedom;\n\n                             Finding, like a friend,\n     Something to blame, and something to commend.\n\n\"The first quality of an historian, is to be true and impartial. The\nnext to be interesting. If you do not say that I have done both parties\njustice, and if Mrs. Mure be not sorry for poor King Charles, I shall\nburn all my papers and return to philosophy.\n\n\"I shall send a copy to Paris to L'Abb\u00e9 Le Blanc, who has translated\nsome other of my pieces; and therefore your corrections and amendments\nmay still be of use, and prevent me from misleading or tiring the French\nnation. We shall also make a Dublin edition; and it were a pity to put\nthe Irish farther wrong than they are already. I shall also be so\nsanguine as to hope for a second edition, when I may correct all errors.\nYou know my docility.\"[410:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ MRS. DYSART _of Eccles_.\n\n\"_9th October._\n\n\"DEAR MADAM,--As I send you a long book, you will allow me to write a\nshort letter, with this fruit of near two years' very constant\napplication, my youngest and dearest child. You should have read it\nsooner; but, during the fine weather, I foresaw that it would produce\nsome inconvenience: either you would attach yourself so much to the\nperusal of me, as to neglect walking, riding, and field diversions,\nwhich are much more beneficial than any history; or if this beautiful\nseason tempted you, I must lie in a corner, neglected and forgotten. I\nassure you I would take the pet if so treated. Now that the weather has\nat last broke, and long nights are joined to wind and rain, and that a\nfireside has become the most agreeable object, a new book, especially if\nwrote by a friend, may not be unwelcome. In expectation, then, that you\nare to peruse me first with pleasure, then with ease, I expect to hear\nyour remarks, and Mr. Dysart's, and the Solicitor's. Whether am I Whig\nor Tory? Protestant or Papist? Scotch or English? I hope you do not all\nagree on this head, and that there are disputes among you about my\nprinciples. We never see you in town, and I can never get to the\ncountry; but I hope I preserve a place in your memory. I am, &c.\n\n\"P.S.--I have seen John Hume's new unbaptized play,[411:1] and it is a\nvery fine thing. He now discovers a great genius for the theatre.\"\n\n[Written at the top.] \"I must beg of you not to lend the book out of\nyour house, on any account, till the middle of November; any body may\nread it in the house.\"[411:2]\n\n\nIn a continuation of the letter, of which the part relating to Blacklock\nwas cited above, he thus desires Adam Smith's opinion of the History:--\n\n\n\"Pray tell me, and tell me ingenuously, what success has my History met\nwith among the judges with you. I mean Dr. Cullen, Mr. Betham, Mrs.\nBetham, Mr. Leichman, Mr. Muirhead, Mr. Crawford, &c. Dare I presume\nthat it has been thought worthy of examination, and that its beauties\nare found to overbalance its defects? I am very desirous to know my\nerrors; and I dare swear you think me tolerably docile to be so veteran\nan author. I cannot, indeed, hope soon to have an opportunity of\ncorrecting my errors; this impression is so very numerous. The sale,\nindeed, has been very great in Edinburgh; but how it goes on in London,\nwe have not been precisely informed. In all cases I am desirous of\nstoring up instruction; and as you are now idle, (I mean, have nothing\nbut your class to teach, which to you is comparative idleness,) I will\ninsist upon hearing from you.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 17th Dec. 1754._\"\n\n\nThe following letter, still on the same subject, introduces the name of\na new correspondent.\n\n\nHUME _to the_ EARL _of_ BALCARRES.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 17th December, 1754._\n\n\"MY LORD,--I did really intend to have paid my respects to your lordship\nthis harvest; but I have got into such a recluse, studious habit, that I\nbelieve myself only fit to converse with books; and, however I may\npretend to be acquainted with dead kings, shall become quite unsuitable\nfor my friends and cotemporaries. Besides, the great gulf that is fixed\nbetween us terrifies me. I am not only very sick at sea, but often can\nscarce get over the sickness for some days.\n\n\"I am very proud that my History, even upon second thoughts, appears to\nhave something tolerable in your lordship's eyes. It has been very much\ncanvassed and read here in town, as I am told; and it has full as many\ninveterate enemies as partial defenders. The misfortune of a book, says\nBoileau, is not the being ill spoke of, but the not being spoken of at\nall. The sale has been very considerable here, about four hundred and\nfifty copies in five weeks. How it has succeeded in London, I cannot\nprecisely tell; only I observe that some of the weekly papers have been\nbusy with me.--I am as great an Atheist as Bolingbroke; as great a\nJacobite as Carte; I cannot write English, &c. I do, indeed, observe\nthat the book is in general rather more agreeable to those they call\nTories; and I believe, chiefly for this reason, that, having no places\nto bestow, they are naturally more moderate in their expectations from a\nwriter. A Whig, who can give hundreds a-year, will not be contented with\nsmall sacrifices of truth; and most authors are willing to purchase\nfavour at so reasonable a price.\n\n\"I wish it were in my power to pass this Christmas at Balcarres. I\nshould be glad to accompany your lordship in your rural improvements,\nand return thence to relish with pleasure the comforts of your fireside.\nYou enjoy peace and contentment, my lord, which all the power and wealth\nof the nation cannot give to our rulers. The whole ministry, they say,\nis by the ears. This quarrel, I hope, they will fight out among\nthemselves, and not expect to draw us in as formerly, by pretending it\nis for our good. We will not be the dupes twice in our life.\n\n\"I have the honour to be, my lord, your lordship's most obedient and\nmost humble servant.\"[413:1]\n\n\nThe literary success that would satisfy Hume required to be of no small\namount. Though neither, in any sense, a vain man, nor a caterer for\nephemeral applause, he was greedy of fame; and what would have been to\nothers pre-eminent success, appears to have, in his eyes, scarcely risen\nabove failure. His expressions about the reception of his History, have\na tinge of morbidness. In John Home's memorandum of his latest\nconversations, it is said that \"he recurred to a subject not unfrequent\nwith him, that is, the design to ruin him as an author, by the people\nthat were ministers at the first publication of his History.\"[414:1] In\nhis \"own life,\" written at the same time, the only passage truly bitter\nin its tone, gives fuller expression to a like feeling:--\"I was, I own,\nsanguine in my expectations of the success of this work. I thought that\nI was the only historian that had at once neglected present power,\ninterest, and authority, and the cry of popular prejudices; and as the\nsubject was suited to every capacity, I expected proportional applause.\nBut miserable was my disappointment: I was assailed by one cry of\nreproach, disapprobation, and even detestation; English, Scotch, and\nIrish, Whig and Tory, Churchman and Sectary, Freethinker and\nReligionist, Patriot and Courtier, united in their rage against the man\nwho had presumed to shed a generous tear for the fate of Charles I. and\nthe Earl of Strafford; and after the first ebullitions of their fury\nwere over, what was still more mortifying, the book seemed to sink into\noblivion. Mr. Millar told me, that in a twelvemonth he sold only\nforty-five copies of it. I scarcely, indeed, heard of one man in the\nthree kingdoms, considerable for rank or letters, that could endure the\nbook. I must only except the primate of England, Dr. Herring, and the\nprimate of Ireland, Dr. Stone, which seem two odd exceptions. These\ndignified prelates separately sent me messages not to be discouraged.\n\n\"I was however, I confess, discouraged; and had not the war been, at\nthat time, breaking out between France and England, I had certainly\nretired to some provincial town of the former kingdom, have changed my\nname, and never more have returned to my native country. But as this\nscheme was not now practicable, and the subsequent volume was\nconsiderably advanced, I resolved to pick up courage, and to persevere.\"\n\nAndrew Millar, a countryman of Hume, had, about this time, formed an\nextensive publishing connexion in London. An arrangement was made, by\nwhich he should take the History under his protection,--publish the\nsubsequent volumes, and push the sale of the first. The arrangement is\nsaid to have been recommended by Hume's Edinburgh publishers; and it\nshows how much, in that age, as probably also in this, even a great work\nmay depend on the publisher's exertions, for giving it a hold on the\npublic mind. Hume had a pretty extensive correspondence with Millar.\nMany of the letters are purely on business, and sometimes on business\nnot very important; but others, such as the following, have some\nliterary interest. Hume appears to have contemplated a translation of\nPlutarch, and Millar seems to have wished to make him editor of a London\nnewspaper.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_12th April, 1755._\n\n\"The second volume of my History I can easily find a way of conveying\nto you when finished and corrected, and fairly copied. Perhaps I may be\nin London myself about that time. I have always said, to all my\nacquaintance, that if the first volume bore a little of a Tory aspect,\nthe second would probably be as grateful to the opposite party. The two\nfirst princes of the house of Stuart were certainly more excusable than\nthe two second. The constitution was, in their time, very ambiguous and\nundetermined; and their parliaments were, in many respects, refractory\nand obstinate. But Charles the Second knew that he had succeeded to a\nvery limited monarchy. His long parliament was indulgent to him, and\neven consisted almost entirely of royalists. Yet he could not be quiet,\nnor contented with a legal authority. I need not mention the oppressions\nin Scotland, nor the absurd conduct of King James the Second. These are\nobvious and glaring points. Upon the whole, I wish the two volumes had\nbeen published together. Neither one party nor the other would, in that\ncase, have had the least pretext of reproaching me with partiality.\n\n\"I shall give no farther umbrage to the godly, though I am far from\nthinking, that my liberties on that head have been the real cause of\nchecking the sale of the first volume. They might afford a pretext for\ndecrying it to those who were resolved on other accounts to lay hold of\npretexts.\n\n\"Pray tell Dr. Birch, if you have occasion to see him, that his story of\nthe warrant for Lord Loudon's execution, though at first I thought it\nhighly improbable, appears to me at present a great deal more\nlikely.[416:1] I find the same story in \"Scotstarvet's Staggering\nState,\"[417:1] which was published here a few months ago. The same\nstory, coming from different canals, without any dependence on each\nother, bears a strong air of probability. I have spoke to Duke Hamilton,\nwho says, that I shall be very welcome to peruse all his papers. I shall\ntake the first opportunity of going to the bottom of that affair; and if\nI find any confirmation of the suspicion, will be sure to inform Dr.\nBirch. I own it is the strongest instance of any which history affords,\nof King Charles's arbitrary principles.\n\n\"I have made a trial of Plutarch, and find that I take pleasure in it;\nbut cannot yet form so just a notion of the time and pains which it will\nrequire, as to tell you what sum of money I would think an equivalent.\nBut I shall be sure to inform you as soon as I come to a resolution. The\nnotes requisite will not be numerous,--not so many as in the former\nedition. I think so bulky a book ought to be swelled as little as\npossible; and nothing added but what is absolutely requisite. The little\ntrial I have made, convinces me that the undertaking will require time.\nMy manner of composing is slow, and I have great difficulty to satisfy\nmyself.\"[417:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 9th January, 1755._\n\n \"DEAR SIR,--I beg you to make my compliments to the Society,[417:3]\nand to take the fault on yourself, if I have not executed my duty, and\nsent them, this time, my anniversary paper. Had I got a week's warning I\nshould have been able to have supplied them. I should willingly have\nsent some sheets of the history of the Commonwealth, or Protectorship;\nbut they are all of them out of my hand at present, and I have not been\nable to recall them.\n\n\"I think you are extremely in the right, that the Parliament's bigotry\nhas nothing in common with Hiero's generosity. They were, themselves,\nviolent persecutors at home, to the utmost of their power. Besides, the\nHugunots in France were not persecuted; they were really seditious,\nturbulent people, whom their king was not able to reduce to obedience.\nThe French persecutions did not begin till sixty years after.\n\n\"Your objection to the Irish massacre is just, but falls not on the\nexecution, but the subject. Had I been to describe the massacre of\nParis, I should not have fallen into that fault. But, in the Irish\nmassacre, no single eminent man fell, or by a remarkable death.[418:1]\nIf the elocution of the whole chapter be blamable, it is because my\nconception laboured with too great an idea of my subject, which is there\nthe most important. But that misfortune is not unusual. I am,\"\n&c.[418:2]\n\n\nWe shall have farther occasion to notice the deep interest which Hume\ntook in John Home's tragedy of Douglas. The following letter, which is\nwithout date, was, probably, written at the beginning of the year 1755,\nand before Home made his unsuccessful journey to London, to submit his\neffort to the judgment of Garrick.\n\n\nHUME _to_ JOHN HOME.\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--With great pleasure I have more than once perused your\ntragedy. It is interesting, affecting, pathetic. The story is simple and\nnatural; but what chiefly delights me, is to find the language so pure,\ncorrect, and moderate. For God's sake read Shakspere, but get Racine and\nSophocles by heart. It is reserved to you, and you alone, to redeem our\nstage from the reproach of barbarism.\n\n\"I have not forgot your request to find fault; but as you had neither\nnumbered the pages nor the lines in your copy, I cannot point out\nparticular expressions. I have marked the margin, and shall tell you my\nopinion when I have the pleasure of seeing you. The more considerable\nobjections seem to be these: _Glenalvon's_ character is too abandoned.\nSuch a man is scarce in nature; at least it is inartificial in a poet to\nsuppose such a one, as if he could not conduct his fable by the ordinary\npassions, infirmities, and vices of human nature. _Lord Barnet's_[419:1]\ncharacter is not enough decided; he hovers betwixt vice and virtue;\nwhich, though it be not unnatural, is not sufficiently theatrical nor\ntragic. After _Anna_ had lived eighteen years with _Lady Barnet_, and\nyet had been kept out of the secret, there seems to be no sufficient\nreason why, at that very time, she should have been let into it. The\nspectator is apt to suspect that it was in order to instruct him; a very\ngood end, indeed, but which might have been attained by a careful and\nartificial conduct of the dialogue.\n\n\"There seem to be too many casual rencounters. _Young Forman_[420:1]\npassing by chance, saves _Lord Barnet_; _Old Forman_, passing that way,\nby chance, is arrested. Why might not _Young Forman_ be supposed to be\ncoming to the castle, in order to serve under _Lord Barnet_, and _Old\nForman_, having had some hint of his intention, to have followed him\nthat way?\n\n     [Some lines torn off and lost.]\n\nMight not _Anna_ be supposed to have returned to her mistress after long\nabsence? This might account for a greater flow of confidence.\"[420:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 12th June, 1755._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I give you a great many thanks for thinking of me in your\nproject of a weekly paper. I approve very much of the design, as you\nexplain it to me; and there is nobody I would more willingly engage\nwith. But, as I have another work in hand, which requires great labour\nand care to finish, I cannot think of entering on a new undertaking,\ntill I have brought this to a conclusion. Your scheme would require me\nimmediately to remove to London; and I live here, at present, in great\ntranquillity, with all my books around me; and I cannot think of\nchanging while I have so great a work in hand as the finishing of my\nHistory.\n\n\"There are four short Dissertations, which I have kept some years by me,\nin order to polish them as much as possible. One of them is that which\nAllan Ramsay mentioned to you. Another, of the Passions; a third, of\nTragedy; a fourth, some Considerations previous to Geometry and Natural\nPhilosophy.[421:1] The whole, I think, would make a volume, a fourth\nless than my Inquiry, as nearly as I can calculate; but it would be\nproper to print it in a larger type, in order to bring it to the same\nsize and price. I would have it published about the new year; and I\noffer you the property for fifty guineas, payable at the publication.\nYou may judge, by my being so moderate in my demands, that I do not\npropose to make any words about the bargain. It would be more convenient\nfor me to print here, especially one of the Dissertations, where there\nis a good deal of literature; but, as the manuscript is distinct and\naccurate, it would not be impossible for me to correct it, though\nprinted at London. I leave it to your choice; though I believe that it\nmight be as cheaply and conveniently and safely executed here. However,\nthe matter is pretty near indifferent to me. I would fain prognosticate\nbetter than you say with regard to my History; that you expect little\nsale till the publication of the second volume. I hope the prejudices\nwill dissipate sooner. I am,\" &c.[422:1]\n\n\nIn 1755, an effort was made to establish a periodical Review in\nScotland, characterized by a higher literary spirit, and a more original\ntone of thinking, than the other periodical literature of the day could\nboast. It assumed the name, so famous in later times, of _The Edinburgh\nReview_. With such contributors as Smith, Robertson, Blair, and Jardine,\nit could not fail to achieve its object, so far as its own merit was\nconcerned; but the public did not appreciate its excellence, and it died\nafter two half-yearly numbers, which may now be found on the shelves of\nthe curious. On this matter, Mackenzie says,\n\n     David Hume was not among the number of the writers of the\n     _Review_, though we should have thought he would have been the\n     first person whose co-operation they would have sought. But I\n     think I have heard that they were afraid both of his extreme\n     good nature, and his extreme artlessness; that, from the one,\n     their criticisms would have been weakened or suppressed; and,\n     from the other, their secret discovered. The merits of the\n     work strongly attracted his attention, and he expressed his\n     surprise, to some of the gentlemen concerned in it, with whom\n     he was daily in the habit of meeting, at the excellence of a\n     performance written, as he presumed, from his ignorance on the\n     subject, by some persons out of their own literary circle. It\n     was agreed to communicate the secret to him at a dinner, which\n     was shortly after given by one of their number. At that dinner\n     he repeated his wonder on the subject of _The Edinburgh\n     Review_. One of the company said he knew the authors, and\n     would tell them to Mr. Hume upon his giving an oath of\n     secrecy. \"How is the oath to be taken,\" said David, with his\n     usual pleasantry, \"of a man accused of so much scepticism as I\n     am? You would not trust my Bible oath; but I will swear by the\n     \u03c4\u03bf \u03ba\u03b1\u03bb\u03bf\u03bd and the \u03c4\u03bf \u03c0\u03c1\u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03bd never to reveal your secret.\" He\n     was then told the names of the authors and the plan of the\n     work; but it was not continued long enough to allow of his\n     contributing any articles.[423:1]\n\nIt was a strong judgment to pass on a man who filled the office of\nsecretary of legation, and under-secretary of state, that a secret was\nnot safe in his keeping. Perhaps Hume had acquired absent habits about\ntrifles. But he could transact important business with ability, and keep\nimportant secrets with strictness. There is a general propensity to\nfind, in the nature and habits of abstruse thinkers, an innocent\nsimplicity about the passing affairs of the world, which is often\ndispelled by a nearer view of their characters. Hume was careless about\nsmall matters; but in the serious transactions of life, he was\nsagacious, prompt, and energetic. Though he did not contribute to it,\nhe owed some substantial services to this periodical, in the conflict in\nthe ecclesiastical courts, which, in the course of events, comes now to\nbe considered.[424:1]\n\nHume was not one of those who, when they find that the opinions they\nhave formed are at variance with those of the rest of mankind, blaze the\nunpopular portions forth in the light of day, or fling them in the face\nof their adversaries. Among his intimate friends, he could pass sly\njests about his opinions; using, in regard to them, those strong\nexpressions which he knew his adversaries would apply to them. But he\ndisliked ostentation of any kind. He particularly disliked the\nostentation of singularity; and so little was he aware that he was\noutraging any of the world's opinions, in promulgating the fruits of his\nmetaphysical speculations, that he appears to have been much astonished\nthat any one should find in them any ground for serious objection, and\nto have marvelled greatly that clergymen and others should deem him an\nunfit person to be a professor of moral philosophy, or a teacher of\nyouth. \"Rara temporum felicitas, ubi sentire qu\u00e6 velis, et qu\u00e6 sentias\ndicere, licet,\" was the motto of his first work; and he seems to have\nthought that he lived in an age when speculation might soar with\nunclipped wings, and when his opinions would be questioned only before\nthe tribunal of reason.\n\nIn all this, however, he now found that he was mistaken, and that there\nwere persons who, professing to have charge of these matters, and to\nknow the final judgment concerning them, thought right to execute it on\nearth, by punishing the man whose opinions were different from their\nown. The soul of this crusade was a certain Reverend George Anderson, a\nrestless, fiery, persevering being, probably of great polemical note in\nhis day, the observed of all observers as he passed through the city, a\nBoanerges in church courts; but now only known through the eminence of\nthose against whom the fury of his zeal was directed. Hume was not the\nonly object of pursuit. Other game was started at the same time in the\nperson of his friend, Lord Kames. It is somewhat remarkable, that it was\nagainst the latter that the pursuit was most persevering and bitter. He\nwas certainly not a man likely to have provoked such attacks. It is true\nthat he meddled with dangerous subjects, but he did so with great\ncaution and skill. Bred to the practice of the bar, at a time when the\nadvocate often felt a temptation to insinuate doctrines which could not\nbe proclaimed without risk, he became like a chemist who is expert in\nthe safe manipulation of detonating materials. Yet he made a narrow\nescape; for as he had been raised to the bench in 1752, any proceeding\nby a church court, professing to subject him to punishment, temporal or\neternal, however lightly it might have fallen on a philosopher, might\nhave tended materially to injure the usefulness of a judge.\n\nKames' work, which was published in 1751, and entitled \"Essays on the\nPrinciples of Morality and Natural Religion,\" bears evident marks of\nhaving been written in opposition to the opinions laid down by Hume,\nalthough the author probably did not wish to expose the works of his\nkind friend to odium, by making a particular reference to them. It is\nclear that he considered his own opinions likely to be so very popular\namong the orthodox, that it would be doing an evil turn to his friend,\nto mention him as the promulgator of views on the other side. In his\nadvertisement, he said, the object of his book was \"to prepare the way\nfor a proof of the existence of the Deity,\" and the Essays end with a\nprayer. Their leading principle is, that according to the doctrine of\npredestination, there can be no liberty to human beings, in the ordinary\nacceptation of the term, while the Deity has nevertheless, for wise\npurposes, which we cannot fathom, implanted in our race the feeling that\nwe are free. Some have held that, while the scheme of predestination was\nexhibited by Hume as a mere metaphysical theory, Kames united it to\nvital religion. He had the misfortune, however, to write in a\nphilosophical tone; and those who constituted themselves judges of the\nmatter, seem to have taken example from the stern father, who, when\nthere is a quarrel in the nursery, punishes both sides, because\nquarrelling is a thing not allowed in the house. In a letter to Michael\nRamsay, Hume says, in continuation of a passage printed above,[427:1]\n\"Have you seen our friend Harry's Essays? They are well wrote, and are\nan unusual instance of an obliging method of answering a book.\nPhilosophers must judge of the question; but the clergy have already\ndecided it, and say he is as bad as me! Nay, some affirm him to be\nworse,--as much as a treacherous friend is worse than an open enemy.\"\nDr. Blair is believed to have been the champion of Kames; and the\nfollowing notice of his connexion with the controversy, given by\nMackenzie, is valuable and instructive.\n\n     It is a singular enough coincidence with some church\n     proceedings, about fifty years after,[427:2] that Dr. Blair,\n     in defence of his friend's Essays, expressly states, that one\n     purpose of those Essays was to controvert what appeared to him\n     to be a very dangerous doctrine, held by the author of certain\n     other _Essays_, then recently published, (by Mr. David Hume,)\n     that, by no principle in human nature, can we discover any\n     real connexion between _cause_ and _effect_. According to Dr.\n     Blair, the object of one of Lord Kames' Essays is to show,\n     that though such connexion is not discoverable by _reason_,\n     and by a process of argumentative induction, there is,\n     nevertheless, a real and obvious connexion, which every one\n     intuitively perceives between an _effect_ and its _cause_. We\n     feel and acknowledge, that every effect implies a cause; that\n     nothing can begin to exist without a cause of its existence.\n     \"We are not left,\" says the author of the Vindication, \"to\n     gather our belief of a _Deity_, from inferences and\n     conclusions deduced through intermediate steps, many or few.\n     How unhappy would it be, for the great bulk of mankind, if\n     this were necessary!\"\n\nThe first attack was made in a pamphlet, called \"An Estimate of the\nProfit and Loss of Religion, personally and publicly stated: illustrated\nwith reference to 'Essays on Morality and Natural Religion,'\" published\nat Edinburgh, in 1753; the work of Anderson himself, and endowed with\nall the marks of its author. This was levelled against Kames alone; but\nit was followed in 1755 by a pamphlet, in which, under the name of\nSopho, he was coupled with Hume, thus: \"An Analysis of the Moral and\nReligious Sentiments contained in the Writings of Sopho and David Hume,\nEsq., addressed to the consideration of the reverend and honourable\nmembers of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland.\" \"My design,\"\nsays the author, \"is to analyze the works of these celebrated authors,\ngiving their own expressions under the different heads to which they\nseem to belong. This method, I imagine, will not only give the clearest\nview of the sentiments of these gentlemen, but is such as they\nthemselves must allow to be the most fair and candid; because if, in\nstating the proposition, I should happen to mistake their meaning, their\nown words, subjoined, must immediately do them justice.\" With this\npreamble, the writer ranges his quotations under such heads as, \"All\ndistinction betwixt virtue and vice is merely imaginary;\" \"Adultery is\nvery lawful, but sometimes not expedient,\" &c.\n\nA counter pamphlet was published, called \"Observations upon a pamphlet,\nentitled 'An Analysis of the Moral and Religious Sentiments contained in\nthe Writings of Sopho and David Hume, Esq.'\"[428:1] In reference to his\nopponents' boasted series of accurate quotations, the writer of this\nanswer says, \"If there should be found passages which are neither the\nwords nor the meaning of the author, the falsehood cannot be palliated\nnor excused.\" And then, after giving a specimen of these \"accurate\"\nquotations, he says,--\n\n     \"In all that page there is no such sentence, neither is there\n     any such sentiment to be found. The passage from the beginning\n     is as follows,\" &c. and he continues: \"To glean disunited\n     sentences, to patch them together arbitrarily, to omit the\n     limitations or remarks with which a proposition is delivered;\n     can this be styled exhibiting the sentiments of an author? I\n     hope I shall not be thought to deviate into any thing\n     ludicrous, when I refer the reader to a well-known treatise of\n     the Dean of St. Patrick's, in which the inquisitorial method\n     of interpretation in the Church of Rome is by so just and so\n     severe raillery rendered detestable. _Si non totidem\n     sententiis, ast totidem verbis; si non totidem verbis, ast\n     totidem syllabis; si non totidem syllabis ast totidem\n     literis._ This is the genuine logic of persecution.\"[429:1]\n\nThe matter was brought before the immediately ensuing General Assembly,\nthat of 1755; by which a general resolution was passed, expressive of\nthe Church's \"utmost abhorrence\" of \"impious and infidel principles,\"\nand of \"the deepest concern on account of the prevalence of infidelity\nand immorality, the principles whereof have been, to the disgrace of\nour age and nation, so openly avowed in several books published of late\nin this country, and which are but too well known amongst us.\" But this\ngeneral anathema was not sufficient to satisfy the pious zeal of Mr.\nAnderson, who, in anticipation of the meeting of the Assembly in 1756,\nwrote another pamphlet, called \"Infidelity a proper object of censure.\"\n\nThe initiatory step in the legislative business of the General Assembly,\nis the bringing before it an overture, which has previously obtained the\nsanction, either of one of the inferior church courts, or of a committee\nof the Assembly for preparing overtures. In such a committee, it was\nmoved on 28th May, 1756, that the following overture should be\ntransmitted to the Assembly.\n\n     \"The General Assembly, judging it their duty to do all in\n     their power to check the growth and progress of infidelity;\n     and considering, that as infidel writings have begun of late\n     years to be published in this nation, against which they have\n     hitherto only testified in general, so there is one person\n     styling himself David Hume, Esq. who hath arrived at such a\n     degree of boldness as publicly to avow himself the author of\n     books containing the most rude and open attacks upon the\n     glorious gospel of Christ, and principles evidently subversive\n     even of natural religion, and the foundations of morality, if\n     not establishing direct atheism: therefore the Assembly\n     appoint the following persons . . . . . as a committee to\n     inquire into the writings of this author, to call him before\n     them, and prepare the matter for the next General Assembly.\"\n\nThe matter was discussed with the usual keenness of such debates in such\nbodies. But toleration was triumphant, and the overture was rejected by\nfifty votes to seventeen.[430:1]\n\nStill the indefatigable Anderson returned to the charge, though he\nbrought it against humbler persons in a less conspicuous arena. As he\nfound the authors above his reach, he resolved to proceed against the\nbooksellers; and he brought before the Presbytery of Edinburgh a\n\"Petition and Complaint\" against Alexander Kincaid and Alexander\nDonaldson, the publishers of \"Kames' Essays,\" praying, \"that the said\nprinter and booksellers may be summoned to the next meeting of the\nPresbytery, and there and then to declare and give up the author of the\nsaid book; and that he and they may be censured, according to the law of\nthe gospel, and the practice of this and all other well-governed\nchurches.\" Anderson indeed would seem to have imbibed the spirit of the\ngreat Anthony Arnauld: who, when Nicole spoke of some rest from the\nendless war of polemical controversy, exclaimed, \"Rest! will you not\nhave enough of rest hereafter, through all eternity?\" Before the\nPresbytery could meet he accordingly published another pamphlet, called\n\"the Complaint of George Anderson, minister of the gospel, verified by\npassages in the book libelled.\" He died in the 19th October,[432:1] just\nten days before the meeting of the presbytery, for which he had made\nsuch active preparation. He fell in harness, and the departure of the\nrestless spirit of the champion from its tenement of clay, was death to\nthe cause. After the perusal of written pleadings, and a formal debate,\nthe complaint was dismissed.\n\nThis matter appears to have given Hume very little disturbance. He does\nnot mention it in his \"own life.\" He laboured uninterruptedly at the\nsecond volume of his History; and his correspondence, which we may now\nresume, will be found to pursue its even tenor, taking no farther notice\nof the proceedings of his opponents, than the simple question put to\nSmith, whether it will be a matter of much consequence if he should be\nexcommunicated?\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 20th April, 1756._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--There is certainly nothing so unaccountable as my long\nsilence with you; that is, with a man whose friendship I desire most to\npreserve of any I know, and whose conversation I would be the most\ncovetous to enjoy, were I in the same place with him. But to tell the\ntruth, we people in the country, (for such you Londoners esteem our\ncity,) are apt to be troublesome to you people in town; we are vastly\nglad to receive letters which convey intelligence to us of things which\nwe should otherwise have been ignorant of, and can pay them back with\nnothing but provincial stories, which are no way interesting. It was\nperhaps an apprehension of this kind which held my pen: but really, I\nbelieve, the truth is, when I was idle, I was lazy--when I was busy, I\nwas so extremely busy, that I had no leisure to think of any thing else.\nFor, dear Doctor, what have we to do with news on either side, unless it\nbe literary news, which I hope will always interest us? and of these,\nLondon seems to me as barren as Edinburgh; or rather more so, since I\ncan tell you that our friend Hume's 'Douglas,' is altered and finished,\nand will be brought out on the stage next winter, and is a singular, as\nwell as fine performance, [----[433:1]] of the spirit of the English\ntheatre, not devoid of Attic and French elegance. You have sent us\nnothing worth reading this winter; even your vein of wretched novels is\ndried up, though not that of scurrilous partial politics. We hear of Sir\nGeorge Lyttleton's History, from which the populace expect a great deal:\nbut I hear it is to be three quarto volumes. 'O, magnum horribilem et\nsacrum Libellum.'--This last epithet of _sacrum_ will probably be\napplicable to it in more senses than one. However, it cannot well fail\nto be readable, which is a great deal for an English book now-a-days.\n\n\"But, dear Doctor, even places more hyperborean than this, more\nprovincial, more uncultivated, and more barbarous, may furnish articles\nfor a literary correspondence. Have you seen the second volume of\nBlackwell's 'Court of Augustus?' I had it some days lying on my table,\nand, on turning it over, met with passages very singular for their\nridicule and absurdity. He says that Mark Antony, travelling from Rome\nin a post-chaise, lay the first night at Redstones: I own I did not\nthink this a very classical name; but, on recollection, I found, by the\nPhilippics, that he lay at Saxa Rubra. He talks also of Mark Antony's\nfavourite poet, Mr. Gosling, meaning Anser, who, methinks, should rather\nbe called Mr. Goose. He also takes notice of Virgil's distinguishing\nhimself, in his youth, by his epigram on Crossbow the robber! Look your\nVirgil, you'll find that, like other robbers, this man bore various\nnames. Crossbow is the name he took at Aberdeen, but Balista at Rome.\nThe book has many other flowers[434:1] of a like nature, which made me\nexclaim, with regard to the author,\n\n     Nec _certe_[435:1] apparet . . . utrum\n     Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental\n     Moverit incestus. Certe furit.\n\nBut other people, who have read through the volume, say that,\nnotwithstanding these absurdities, it does not want merit; and, if it be\nso, I own the case is still more singular. What would you think of a man\nwho should speak of the mayorality of Mr. Veitch; meaning the consulship\nof Cicero?--Is not this a fine way of avoiding the imputation of\npedantry? Perhaps Cicero, to modernize him entirely, should be called\nSir Mark Veitch, because his father was a Roman knight.\n\n\"I do not find your name among the subscribers of my friend Blacklock's\npoems, you have forgot; buy a copy of them and read them, they are many\nof them very elegant, and merit esteem, if they came from any one, but\nare admirable from him. [----[435:2]] Spence's industry in so good a\nwork, but there is a circumstance of his conduct that will entertain\nyou. In the Edinburgh edition there was a stanza to this effect:\n\n     The wise in every age conclude,\n     What Pyrrho taught and Hume renewed,\n       That Dogmatists are fools.\n\n\"Mr. Spence would not undertake to promote a London subscription, unless\nmy name, as well as Lord Shaftesbury's, (who was mentioned in another\nplace,) were erased: the author frankly gave up Shaftesbury, but said\nthat he would forfeit all the profit he might expect from a\nsubscription, rather than relinquish the small tribute of praise which\nhe had paid to a man whom he was more indebted to than to all the world\nbeside. I heard by chance of this controversy, and wrote to Mr. Spence,\nthat, without farther consulting the author, I, who was chiefly\nconcerned, would take upon me to empower him to alter the stanza where I\nwas mentioned. He did so, and farther, having prefixed the life of the\nauthor, he took occasion to mention some people to whom he had been\nobliged, but is careful not to name me; judging rightly that such good\ndeeds were only _splendida peccata_, and that till they were sanctified\nby the grace of God they would be of no benefit to salvation.[436:1]\n\n\"I have seen (but, I thank God, was not bound to read) Dr. [Birch's]\n'History of the Royal Society.' Pray make my compliments to him, and\ntell him, that I am his most obliged humble servant. I hope you\nunderstand that the last clause was spoken ironically. You would have\nsurprised _him_ very much had you executed the compliment. I shall\nconclude this article of literature by mentioning myself. I have\nfinished the second volume of my History, and have maintained the same\nunbounded liberty in my politics which gave so much offence: religion\nlay more out of my way; and there will not be . . .[436:2] in this\nparticular: I think reason, and even some eloquence, are on my side, and\n. . . will, I am confident, get the better of faction and folly, which\nare the . . .[436:2] least they never continue long in the same shape. I\nam sorry, however, that you speak nothing on this head in your\npostscript to me.\n\n\"It gives me great affliction, dear Doctor, when you speak of gouts and\nold age. Alas! you are going down hill, and I am tumbling fast after\nyou. I have, however, very entire health, notwithstanding my studious\nsedentary life. I only grow fat more than I could wish. When shall I see\nyou? God knows. I am settled here; have no pretensions, nor hopes, nor\ndesires, to carry me to court the great. I live frugally on a small\nfortune, which I care not to dissipate by jaunts of pleasure. All these\ncircumstances give me little prospect of seeing London. Were I to change\nmy habitation, I would retire to some provincial town in France, to\ntrifle out my old age, near a warm sun in a good climate, a pleasant\ncountry, and amidst a sociable people. My stock would then maintain me\nin some opulence; for I have the satisfaction to tell you, dear Doctor,\nthat on reviewing my affairs, I find that I am worth \u00a31600 sterling,\nwhich, at five per cent, makes near 1800 livres a-year--that is, the pay\nof two French captains.\n\n\"Edmonstone left this town for Ireland. I wish he were out of the way:\nhe has no prospect of advancement suitable to his merit. Sir Harry, I\nhope, has only run backwards to make a better jump. Pray imitate not my\nexample--delay not to write; or, if you do, I will imitate yours, and\nwrite again without waiting for an answer. Ever most sincerely.\"[437:1]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[367:1] The appointment is thus recorded in the minutes of the Faculty\nof Advocates.\n\n\"_28th January, 1752._\n\n\"The Faculty proceeded to the choice of a keeper of their library, in\nplace of the said Mr. Thomas Ruddiman; and some members proposed that a\ndignified member of their own body, viz. Mr. Kenneth Mackenzie,\nAdvocate, Professor of the Civil Law in the University of Edinburgh,\nshould be named to that office, and others inclining that Mr. David Hume\nshould be elected, it was agreed that the matter should be put to a\nvote. And the rolls being called, and votes distinctly marked and taken\ndown and numbered, it was found that the majority had declared for the\nlatter; upon which, the Dean and Faculty declared the said Mr. David\nHume duly elected keeper of their library, and appointed that the usual\nsalary of forty pounds sterling should be paid to him yearly on that\naccount. And in regard that he was to have their minutes, acts, and\nrecords, under his custody, they appointed him also clerk to the\nFaculty, which office had been lately resigned by Mr. David Falconer,\nwith power to the said Mr. Hume to officiate therein by a depute.\n\n\"Mr. Gilbert Elliot, senior, curator of the library, here proposed, that\nin consideration that there would be a good deal of labour and trouble\nin delivering over the library to Mr. Hume, and his receiving the same,\nand doing several other things requisite and necessary relating thereto,\nthat the Faculty should name a certain salary to some person as under\nkeeper for some time till that business may be accomplished. The Dean\nand Faculty resolved, that they would name no person, nor no salary, but\nleave Mr. Hume, their library keeper, himself the nomination and choice\nof his own depute, as he was to be answerable and accountable to the\nFaculty for his whole charge and intromissions; but that, against the\nnext anniversary meeting, they would take under their consideration what\nextraordinary work should be then accomplished, and do therein as should\nbe found reasonable.\n\n\"Lastly, the Dean and Faculty appointed Mr. George Brown to intimate to\nMr. David Hume their election of him for their library keeper, and that\nhe should be present at their next meeting to have the oath _de fideli_\nadministered to him.\"\n\nIn this office, Hume succeeded the celebrated Thomas Ruddiman. The life\nof this distinguished critic and philologist was written in an 8vo\nvolume by George Chalmers, (1794.) This book is valuable as containing\nsome of the finest specimens of mixed bombast and bathos in the English\nlanguage. Chalmers was a distinguished antiquary, and his high fame in\nthat department of research was well earned; but this did not content\nhis ambition, and like an eminent Anglo-Saxon antiquary of the present\nday, he must needs mount a cap and bells on his head, by aping the style\nof the fine writers of his age. Gibbon and Johnson seem to have been\nhonoured with an equal share in the elements of his style. He can say\nnothing without a due pomp and state; when he tells us how John Love was\nthe son of a bookseller in Dumbarton, he must put it thus: \"He was born\nin July, 1695, at Dunbarton, the Dunbriton of the British, the _arx\nBritonum_ of the Romans, the Dunclidon of Ravennas, the Alcluyd of Bede,\nand he was the son of John Love, a bookseller, who, like greater dealers\nin greater towns, supplied his customers with such books as their taste\nrequired, and, like the father of Johnson, occasionally exhibited his\nbooks at the neighbouring fairs.\" We are then of course provided with a\nlist of what these books sold by Love's father might or might not\nprobably be, which has this reference to the life of Ruddiman, that\n_young_ Love quarrelled with him. We then find such solemn announcements\nas the following: \"Love had scarcely animadverted on Trotter, when he\nwas carried before the judicatories of the kirk by Mr. Sydserf, the\nminister of Dumbarton, who accused him of _brewing on a Sunday_; and\nwho, after a juridical trial, was obliged to make a public apology for\nhaving maliciously accused calumniated innocence.\" A printer publishing\nbooks calculated for an extensive sale is thus described:--\"To these\nother qualities of prudence, of industry, and of attention, Ruddiman\nadded judgment. He did not print splendid editions of books for the\npublic good; he did not publish volumes for the perusal of the few; but\nhe chiefly employed his press in supplying Scotland with books, which,\nfrom their daily use, had a general sale; and he was by this motive\ninduced to furnish country shopkeepers with school-books at the lowest\nrate.\"\n\n[373:1] The state of the library in Hume's time may be guessed at by\nconsulting the first volume of the catalogue, printed under Ruddiman's\nauspices in 1742, folio. It is a singular circumstance that this library\nhas always been very deficient in the early editions of Hume's\nworks--those which were published before his librarianship. Another set\nof works, which one misses in the early catalogues, consists in the\ncontroversial books, written by Logan _against_ its previous librarian,\nRuddiman.\n\n[373:2] The assistant, whose remuneration was to be at the pleasure of\nthe Faculty, according to the above minute, was Walter Goodall, an\nunfortunate scholar, whom Hume's predecessor in office, the celebrated\nThomas Ruddiman, had attached to the library as a hanger-on and\nmiscellaneous drudge. The extent of his emoluments may be appreciated\nfrom a minute of Faculty, (7th Jan. 1758,) which, in consideration of\nhis long services, awards him a salary of \"\u00a35 a-year, over and above\nwhat he may receive from the keeper of the library.\" Goodall's character\nand fate are summed up in the sententious remark of Lord Hailes, that\n\"Walter was seldom sober.\" Yet he did not a little for historical\nliterature. He was a violent Jacobite and champion of the innocence of\nQueen Mary; and in 1754 he published, in two volumes 8vo, his\n\"Examination of the Letters said to be written by Mary, Queen of Scots,\nto James, Earl of Bothwell, showing by intrinsick and extrinsick\nevidence that they are forgeries.\" In 1759 he edited the best edition of\nFordun's Scotichronicon, in two volumes folio.\n\nThe following traditional anecdote has been preserved, of the keeper and\nhis assistant. \"One day, while Goodall was composing his treatise\nconcerning Queen Mary, he became drowsy, and laying down his head upon\nhis MSS. in that posture fell asleep. Hume entering the library, and\nfinding the controversialist in that position, stepped softly up to him,\nand laying his mouth to Watty's ear, roared out with the voice of a\nstentor, that Queen Mary was a whore and had murdered her husband.\nWatty, not knowing whether it was a dream or a real adventure, or\nwhether the voice proceeded from a ghost or a living creature, started\nup, and before he was awake or his eyes well opened, he sprang upon\nHume, and seizing him by the throat, pushed him to the farther end of\nthe library, exclaiming all the while that he was some base Presbyterian\nparson, who was come to murder the character of Queen Mary, as his\npredecessors had contributed to murder her person. Hume used to tell\nthis story with much glee, and Watty acknowledged the truth of it with\nmuch frankness.\" Chambers's Biographical Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen,\n_voce_ GOODALL.\n\n[375:1] \"Of Love and Marriage,\" and \"Of the Study of History.\"\n\n[376:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1821, p. 745. The original is in the MSS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[378:1] Thus it appears that it was his original intention to continue\nthe history down to 1714, before he went back to the earlier periods.\n\n[379:1] From the original at Kilravock.\n\n[379:2] Probably Alexander Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Chancellor\nLoughborough, who was then twenty years of age.\n\n[379:3] From the original at Kilravock.\n\n[381:1] Memorials of James Oswald, p. 72.\n\n[383:1] _Scots Mag._ 1802, p. 794. Collated with original at Kilravock.\n\n[385:1] _Scots Magazine_, 1802, p. 902.\n\n[387:1] Alexander Hume, a director of the East India Company.\n\n[387:2] _Edinburgh Annual Register_ for 1809, p. 553.\n\n[387:3] Singer's edition of Spence's Anecdotes of Books and Men, p. 448.\n\n[394:1] It is out of some vague rumour as to this transaction, that Lord\nCharlemont must have constructed the following romantic story of Hume.\n\"He was tender-hearted, friendly, and charitable in the extreme, as will\nappear from a fact, which I have from good authority. When a member of\nthe University of Edinburgh, and in great want of money, having little\nor no paternal fortune, and the collegiate stipend being very\ninconsiderable, he had procured, through the interest of some friend, an\noffice in the university, which was worth about \u00a340 a-year. On the day\nwhen he had received this good news, and just when he had got into his\npossession the patent or grant entitling him to his office, he was\nvisited by his friend Blacklock, the poet, who is much better known by\nhis poverty and blindness than by his genius. This poor man began a long\ndescant on his misery, bewailing his want of sight, his large family of\nchildren, and his utter inability to provide for them, or even procure\nthem the necessaries of life. Hume, unable to bear his complaints, and\ndestitute of money to assist him, ran instantly to his desk, took out\nthe grant, and presented it to his miserable friend, who received it\nwith exultation, and whose name was soon after, by Hume's interest,\ninserted instead of his own.\"--_Hardy's Memoirs of Charlemont_, p. 9.\nThis story is constructed after the received model of the current\nanecdotes of Fielding, Goldsmith, and others, and is perhaps as close to\nthe truth as many of them would be found to be, if they were minutely\ninvestigated. It is pretty clear that Hume's generosity,--for generosity\nhe certainly had, to a very large extent, by the testimony of all who\nknew him,--was not so much the creature of impulse, as that of the\nauthors who have been mentioned above: but such an instance as that just\ngiven, is a warning to distrust those anecdotes of the inconsiderate\ngenerosity of men of genius, that are put into a very dramatic shape.\n\n[394:2] It is along with the letter to Smith in the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[396:1] The fastidious Gray's appreciation of La Fontaine, is thus\nrecorded. \"The sly, delicate, and exquisitely elegant pleasantry of La\nFontaine he thought inimitable, whose muse, however licentious, is never\ngross; not perhaps on that account the less dangerous.\"--Nicholls'\nReminiscences. Gray's Works, v. 45.\n\n[396:2] In 1756, some disputes appear to have arisen between the Faculty\nand their curators, owing to the arbitrary disposal of the books by the\nlatter. On 6th January it was represented by Mr. William Johnstone, that\nthe curators had ordered certain books to be sold, and that the practice\nwas a very questionable one, \"seeing as one curator succeeded another\nyearly, and different men had different tastes, the library might by\nthat means happen to suffer considerably.\" It was declared that the\ncurators had no right to dispose of books.\n\n[399:1] From the original at Kilravock.\n\n[399:2] Edinburgh: published by Hamilton, Balfour, and Neill. It is\nentered in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ list for October.\n\n[401:1] Carte's last volume was posthumously published in the year after\nHume's first.\n\n[403:1] He does not appear to have suffered any _persecutions_ before he\nwrote the first volume of the History of the Stuarts, unless the\nopposition to his appointment as a professor deserves that name. The\ntone of the History itself was indeed one of the grounds on which he was\nattacked in the ecclesiastical courts.\n\n[403:2] Article by Lord Jeffrey in _The Edinburgh Review_, xii. 276.\n\n[405:1] Article on History by Mr. Macaulay. _Edinburgh Review_, xlvii.\np. 359.\n\n[407:1] Printed in the Appendix of Voltaire et Rousseau, par Henry Lord\nBrougham, p. 340.\n\n[408:1] See the letters in Appendix. The French bibliographical works\nof reference, which are in general very full, do not mention any\ntranslation of the History of the Stuarts earlier than 1760, when\nQuerard and Brunet give the following:\n\n     Histoire de la Maison de Stuart sur le tr\u00f4ne d'Angleterre,\n     jusqu'au d\u00e9tr\u00f4nement de Jacques II. traduite de l'Anglois de\n     David Hume, (par L'Abb\u00e9 Pr\u00e9vost.) Londres (Paris) 1760. 3\n     vols. in 4to.\n\nThe edition about to appear in Holland, which threw Le Blanc into\ndespair, seems to have been overlooked. This Pr\u00e9vost, or Pr\u00e9v\u00f4t, is the\nwell-known author of the \"Histoire du Chevalier des Grieux et de Manon\nLescaut,\" which still holds its place in French popular literature,\nthough it bears but a small proportion to the bulk of his other\nvoluminous works which are forgotten. The authors of the Dictionnaire\nHistorique, say they find in his translation of Hume, \"un air \u00e9tranger,\nun style souvent embarrass\u00e9, s\u00e9m\u00e9 d'Anglicismes, d'expressions peu\nFran\u00e7oises, de tours durs, de phrases louches et mal construites.\" This\nabb\u00e9 led an irregular life, being a sort of disgraced ecclesiastic, and\nhis death was singularly tragical. He had fallen by the side of a wood\nin a fit of apoplexy. Being found insensible, he was removed as a dead\nbody to the residence of a magistrate, where a surgeon was to open the\nbody to discover the cause of death. At the first insertion of the\nknife, a scream from the victim terrified all present: but it was too\nlate; the instrument had entered a vital part.\n\n[408:2] Colonel Abercrombie.\n\n[409:1] From the original at Kilravock.\n\n[410:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[411:1] \"I presume this was 'Douglas;' and the expression, 'he now\ndiscovers a great genius for the theatre,' I suppose was meant to imply\nMr. D. Hume's opinion of its being better fitted for the stage than\n_Agis_.\"--_Mackenzie._\n\n[411:2] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 102. The original in the MS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[413:1] \"Lives of the Lindsays, or a Memoir of the Houses of Crawford\nand Balcarres, by Lord Lindsay.\" Hume's correspondent was James, the\nfifth earl. He had had the misfortune to be \"out in the fifteen,\" and\nthough a zealous and hardy soldier, he in vain attempted to rise in the\narmy; and at last retiring in disgust, he betook himself to learned\nleisure. In the pleasing work above referred to, he is thus\npicturesquely described: \"Though his aspect was noble, and his air and\ndeportment showed him at once a man of rank, yet there was no denying\nthat a degree of singularity attended his appearance. To his large\nbrigadier wig, which hung down with three tails, he generally added a\nfew curls of his own application, which I suspect would not have been\nconsidered quite orthodox by the trade. His shoe, which resembled\nnothing so much as a little boat with a cabin at the end of it, was\nslashed with his pen-knife, for the benefit of giving ease to his honest\ntoes; here--there--he slashed it where he chose to slash, without an\nidea that the world or its fashions had the smallest right to smile at\nhis shoe; had they smiled, he would have smiled too, and probably said,\n'Odsfish! I believe it is not like other people's; but as to that, look,\nd' ye see? what matters it whether so old a fellow as myself wears a\nshoe or a slipper.'\"\n\n[414:1] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 175.\n\n[416:1] He does not, however, mention it in any of the subsequent\neditions of his History.\n\n[417:1] Scott of Scotstarvet's Staggering State of Scots Statesmen.--A\ncollection of contemporary characters, drawn by a shrewd but bitter and\nunscrupulous observer.\n\n[417:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[417:3] Evidently the Philosophical Society. It was instituted in 1731,\nchiefly as a medical society; but, in 1739, its plan was so far\nenlarged, as to admit of the above comprehensive denomination.\n\n[418:1] Sic in MS.\n\n[418:2] _Lit. Gazette_, 1822, p. 745. The original is in the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[419:1] This name changed to _Randolph_, after the first\nrepresentation.--_Mackenzie._\n\n[420:1] Changed to _Norval_, before the tragedy was brought on the\nstage.--_Mackenzie._\n\n[420:2] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 100.\n\nThe following paper made its first appearance in _The Edinburgh Weekly\nChronicle_, a few years ago, when it was edited by Mr. Hislop, a\ngentleman said to be well acquainted with theatrical matters. It is here\nrepeated, not as being believed, but because having excited some\nattention when it first appeared, it found its way into some books\nconnected with Scottish literature.\n\n\"It may not be generally known, that the first rehearsal took place in\nthe lodgings in the Canongate, occupied by Mrs. Sarah Warde, one of\nDigges's company; and that it was rehearsed by, and in presence of the\nmost distinguished literary characters Scotland ever could boast of. The\nfollowing was the cast of the piece on the occasion:--\n\nDRAMATIS PERSON\u00c6.\n\n     Lord Randolph,       Dr. Robertson, Principal, Edinburgh.\n     Glenalvon,           David Hume, Historian.\n     Old Norval,          Dr. Carlyle, Minister of Musselburgh.\n     Douglas,             John Home, the Author.\n     Lady Randolph,       Dr. Ferguson, Professor.\n     Anna, (the Maid,)    Dr. Blair, Minister, High Church.\n\n\"The audience that day, besides Mr. Digges, and Mrs. Warde, were, the\nRight Honourable Patrick Lord Elibank, Lord Milton, Lord Kames, Lord\nMonboddo, (the two last were then only lawyers,) the Rev. John Steele\nand William Home, ministers. The company, all but Mrs. Warde, dined\nafterwards in the Erskine Club, in the Abbey.\"\n\nThe reader must take this statement at its own value, which he will\nprobably not consider high. The \"cast,\" has no pretensions to be a\ntranscript of any contemporary document; for Dr. Robertson was not then\nPrincipal of the University, but minister of the country parish of\nGladsmuir; and Ferguson was not a Professor, but an army chaplain, with\nleave of absence, spending his time chiefly in Perthshire. Lord Kames,\nspoken of as \"only\" a lawyer, had been raised to the bench in 1752.\n\n[421:1] This last appears to have been suppressed. The publication of\nthe others is mentioned further on.\n\n[422:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[423:1] Account of John Home, p. 24.\n\n[424:1] There is an amusing traditional anecdote, with which this\nperiodical has some connexion. Dr. Walter Anderson, minister of\nChirnside, having caught the fire of literary ambition, made the remark\nto Hume, one afternoon when they had been enjoying the hospitalities of\nNinewells: \"Mr. David, I daresay other people might write books too; but\nyou clever fellows have taken up all the good subjects. When I look\nabout me, I cannot find one unoccupied.\"--\"What would you think, Mr.\nAnderson,\" said Hume, in reply, \"of a History of Croesus, king of Lydia?\nThis has never yet been written.\" Dr. Anderson was a man who understood\nno jesting, and held no words as uttered in vain; so away he goes, pulls\ndown his Herodotus, and translates all the passages in the first book\nrelating to Croesus, with all the consultations of the oracles, and all\nthe dreams; only interweaving with them, from his own particular genius,\nsome very sage and lengthy remarks on the extent to which there was real\ntruth in the prophetic revelations of the Pythoness. This book, which is\nnow a great rarity, was reviewed with much gravity and kindness in _The\nEdinburgh Review_. It was more severely treated in _The Critical\nReview_, edited by Smollett, where it is said, \"There is still a race of\nsoothsayers in the Highlands, derived, if we may believe some curious\nantiquaries, from the Druids and Bards that were set apart for the\nworship of Apollo. The author of the History before us may, for aught we\nknow, be one of these venerable seers, though we rather take him to be a\nPresbyterian teacher, who has been used to expound apothegms that need\nno explanation.\"\n\n[427:1] Page 342. MS. R.S.E.\n\n[427:2] The case of Sir John Leslie, see above, p. 89.\n\n[428:1] Attributed to Dr. Blair by Tytler, (Life of Kames, i. 142,) as\nwell as by Mackenzie; as on the preceding page.\n\n[429:1] Besides those mentioned above, the occasion seems to have called\nforth some blasts of the trumpet, still better suited to split the ears\nof the groundlings--such as \"The Deist stretched on a Death-bed, or a\nlively Portraiture of a Dying Infidel.\" The contemporary _Edinburgh\nReview_, which carried on a guerilla warfare on the side of the\nthreatened philosophers, thus commences a notice of this production.\n\"This is a most extraordinary performance. The hero of it is an infidel,\n'a humorous youth,' as the author describes him, 'a youth whose life was\none successive scene of pleasantry and humour: who laughed at\nrevelation, and called religion _priestcraft_ and _grimace_: a gay and\nsprightly free-thinker. But yesterday,' says he 'this gay and sprightly\nfree-thinker _revelled_ his usual _round_ of gallantry and applause,\ntill, satiated at length, he staggered to bed devoid of sense and\nreason.' We suppose, (continues the reviewer,) the author's meaning is,\nthat he went to bed very drunk.'\"\n\n[430:1] _Scots Magazine_, 1756, pp. 248, 280, where those who are\npartial to such reading, will find a pretty clear abstract of the\ndebate. The General Assembly had its hands at that time pretty full. A\ndeadly dispute had arisen between the partisans of the old and new\nchurch music, which is thus described in Ritchie's Life of Hume, p. 57:\n\n\"At this time the Scottish church was thrown into a general ferment by\nan attempt to introduce the reformed music. In accomplishing this, the\nmost indecent scenes were exhibited. It was not uncommon for a\ncongregation to divide themselves into two parties, one of which, in\nchaunting the psalms, followed the old, and the other the new mode of\nmusical execution; while the infidel, who was not in the habit of\nfrequenting the temple, now resorted to it, not for the laudable purpose\nof repentance and edification, but from the ungodly motive of being a\nspectator of the contest. . . . .\n\n\"During the present dispute, it was customary for the partisans of the\ndifferent kinds of music to convene apart, in numerous bodies, for the\npurpose of practising, and to muster their whole strength on the\nSabbath. The moment the psalm was read from the pulpit, each side, in\ngeneral chorus, commenced their operations; and as the pastor and clerk,\nor precentor, often differed in their sentiments, the church was\nimmediately in an uproar. Blows and bruises were interchanged by the\nimpassioned songsters, and, in many parts of the country, the most\nserious disturbances took place.\"\n\nThey had, at the same time, to conduct the war against the tragedy of\nDouglas, and the frequenters of the theatre. Home himself, as is well\nknown, escaped the odium of ecclesiastical punishment, by resigning his\nministerial charge. Order was then taken with those clergy who could not\nresist being present on so memorable an occasion as the performance of a\ngreat national tragedy, written by a member of their own body. Among\nthese the Rev. Mr. White of Libberton was subjected to the modified\npunishment of a month's suspension from office, because 'he had attended\nthe representation only once, when he endeavoured to conceal himself in\na corner, to avoid giving offence.' _Scots Mag._ for 1757, p. 47.\n\n[432:1] Ritchie says, (p. 79,) that he was in his eightieth year. One is\ntempted to say with Lady Macbeth, \"Who would have thought the old man\nhad so much blood in him.\" Besides these conflicts in Scotland, he was\nconducting a war in England against Mallet, for the publication of\nBolingbroke's works.\n\n[433:1] Word illegible.\n\n[434:1] That such flowers were not confined to Aberdeen, may be seen in\nthe following passage of the \"Carpentariana.\"\n\n\"Si l'on vouloit traduire les noms Grecs et Romains en Fran\u00e7ois, on les\nrendroit souvent ridicules. J'ai vu une traduction des \u00e9pitres de\nCic\u00e9ron \u00e0 Atticus, imprim\u00e9e chez Thiboust, en 1666, pag. 217, o\u00f9\nl'auteur est tomb\u00e9 dans cette faute ridicule, en traduisant cet endroit:\n_Pridie autem apud me Crassipes fuerat_, Le jour pr\u00e9c\u00e9dent Gros-pied fut\nchez moi. V\u00e9ritablement _Crassipes_, veut dire Gros-pied, mais il est\nridicule de la traduire ainsi: et il ne faut jamais toucher aux noms\npropres, soit qu'ils fassent un bon ou mauvais effet, rendus dans notre\nlangue. Un autre traducteur des \u00e9pitres de Cic\u00e9ron, lui fait dire,\nMademoiselle votre fille, Madame votre femme; et je me souviens d'un\nauteur qui appelloit Brutus et Collatinus, les Bourgmestres de la ville\nde Rome.\"\n\n[435:1] Satis.\n\n[435:2] Words obliterated.\n\n[436:1] See above p. 393.\n\n[436:2] Words obliterated by decay of the MS.\n\n[437:1] Original at Kilravock.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX A.\n\nFRAGMENTS OF A PAPER IN HUME'S HANDWRITING, DESCRIBING THE DESCENT ON\nTHE COAST OF BRITTANY, IN 1746, AND THE CAUSES OF ITS FAILURE.[441:1]\n\n\n     The forces under Lieutenant General St. Clair consisted of\n     five battalions, viz. the first battalion of the 1st Royal,\n     the 5th Highlanders, 3d Brag's, 4th Richbell's, 2d Harrison's,\n     together with part of Frampton's, and some companies of\n     Marines, making in all about 4500 men. The fleet consisted of\n     __________. Though this army and fleet had been at first\n     fitted out for entering upon action in summer 1746, and making\n     conquest of Canada, it was found, after several vain efforts\n     to get out of the Channel, first under Commodore Cotes, then\n     under Admiral Listock, that so much time had been unavoidably\n     lost, from contrary winds and contrary orders, as to render it\n     dangerous for so large a body of ships to proceed thither. The\n     middle of May was the last day of rendezvous appointed at\n     Spithead; and in the latter end of August, the fleet had yet\n     got no farther than St. Helen's, about a league below it. It\n     is an observation, that in the latter end of autumn, or\n     beginning of winter, the north-west winds blow so furiously on\n     the coast of North America, as to render it always difficult,\n     and often impossible, for ships that set out late to reach any\n     harbour in those parts. Instances have been found of vessels\n     that have been obliged to take shelter from these storms, even\n     in the Leeward Islands. It was therefore become necessary to\n     abandon all thoughts of proceeding to America that season; and\n     as the transports were fitted out and fleet equipped at great\n     expense, an attempt was hastily made to turn them to some\n     account in Europe, during the small remainder of the summer.\n     The distress of the allies in Flanders demanded the more\n     immediate attention of the English nation and ministry, and\n     required, if possible, some speedy remedy. 'Twas too late to\n     think of sending the six battalions under General St. Clair,\n     to reinforce Prince Charles of Lorraine, who commanded the\n     armies of the allies; and their number was, besides, too\n     inconsiderable to hope for any great advantages from that\n     expedient. 'Twas more to be expected, that falling on the\n     parts of France, supposed to be defenceless and disarmed, they\n     might make a diversion, and occasion the sending a\n     considerable detachment from the enemy's army in Flanders. But\n     as time pressed, and allowed not leisure to concert and\n     prepare this measure, the Duke of Newcastle, Secretary of\n     State, hoped to find that General St. Clair had already\n     planned and projected some enterprise of this nature. He\n     formed this presumption on a hint which had been started very\n     casually, and which had been immediately dropped by the\n     General.\n\n     In the spring, when the obstructions and delays thrown in the\n     way of the American enterprise were partly felt and partly\n     foreseen, the Secretary, lamenting the great and, he feared,\n     useless expense to which the nation had been put by that\n     undertaking, gave occasion to the General to throw out a\n     thought, which would naturally occur in such a situation. He\n     said, \"Why may you not send the squadron and troops to some\n     part of the coast of France, and at least frighten and alarm\n     them as they have done us; and, as all their troops are on the\n     Flanders and German frontiers, 'tis most probable that such an\n     alarm may make them recall some of them?\" The subject was then\n     no farther prosecuted; but the King, being informed of this\n     casual hint of the General's, asked him if he had formed any\n     plan or project by which the service above-mentioned might be\n     effectuated. He assured his majesty that he had never so much\n     as thought of it; but that, if it was his pleasure, he would\n     confer with Sir John Ligonier, and endeavour to find other\n     people in London who could let him into some knowledge of the\n     coast of France. To this the King replied, \"No, no; you need\n     not give yourself any trouble about it.\" And accordingly the\n     General never more thought of it, farther than to inform the\n     Duke of Newcastle of this conference with his majesty.\n     However, the Duke being willing that the person who was to\n     execute the undertaking should also be the projector of it, by\n     which means both greater success might be hoped from it, and\n     every body else be screened from reflection in case of its\n     miscarriage, desired, in his letter of the 22d of August, that\n     both the Admiral and General should give their opinion of such\n     an invasion; and particularly the General, who, having, he\n     said, formed some time ago a project of this nature, might be\n     the better prepared to give his thoughts with regard to it.\n     They both jointly replied, that their utter ignorance made\n     them incapable of delivering their sentiments on so delicate a\n     subject; and the General, in a separate letter, recalled to\n     the Duke's memory the circumstances of the story, as above\n     related.\n\n     Though they declined proposing a project, they both cheerfully\n     offered, that if his majesty would honour them with any plan\n     of operation for a descent, they would do their best to carry\n     it into execution. They hoped that the Secretary of State,\n     who, by his office, is led to turn his eyes every where, and\n     who lives at London, the centre of commerce and intelligence,\n     could better form and digest such a plan, than they who were\n     cooped up in their ships, in a remote sea-port town, without\n     any former acquaintance with the coast of France, and without\n     any possibility of acquiring new knowledge. They at least\n     hoped, that so difficult a task would not be required of them\n     as either to give their sentiments without any materials\n     afforded them to judge upon, or to collect materials, while\n     the most inviolable secrecy was strictly enjoined on them. It\n     is remarkable, that the Duke of Newcastle, among other\n     advantages proposed by this expedition, mentions the giving\n     assistance to such Protestants as are already in arms, or may\n     be disposed to rise on the appearance of the English, as if we\n     were living in the time of the League, or during the confusion\n     of Francis the Second's minority.\n\n     Full of these reflections, they sailed from St. Helens on the\n     23d of August, and arrived at Plymouth on the 29th, in\n     obedience to their orders, which required them to put into\n     that harbour for farther instructions. They there found\n     positive orders to sail immediately, with the first fair wind,\n     to the coast of France, and make an attempt on L'Orient, or\n     Rochefort, or Rochelle, or sail up the river of Bourdeaux; or,\n     if they judged any of these enterprises impracticable, to sail\n     to whatever other place on the western coast they should think\n     proper. Such unbounded discretionary powers could not but be\n     agreeable to commanders, had it been accompanied with better,\n     or indeed with any intelligence. As the wind was then\n     contrary, they had leisure to reply in their letters of the\n     29th and 30th. They jointly represented the difficulties, or\n     rather impossibilities, of any attempt on L'Orient, Rochefort,\n     and Rochelle, by reason of the real strength of these places,\n     so far as their imperfect information could reach; or, if that\n     were erroneous, by reason of their own absolute want of\n     intelligence, guides, and pilots, which are the soul of all\n     military operations.\n\n     The General, in a separate letter, enforced the same topics,\n     and added many other reflections of moment. He said, that of\n     all the places mentioned in his orders, Bourdeaux, if\n     accessible, appeared to him the properest to be attempted;\n     both as it is one of the towns of greatest commerce and riches\n     in France, and as it is the farthest situated from their\n     Flanders' army, and on these accounts an attack on it would\n     most probably produce the wished-for alarm and diversion. He\n     added, that he himself knew the town to be of no strength, and\n     that the only place there capable of making any defence, is\n     Chateau Trompette, which serves it as a citadel, and was\n     intended, as almost all citadels are, more as a curb, than a\n     defence, on the inhabitants. But though these circumstances\n     promised some success, he observed that there were many other\n     difficulties to struggle with, which threw a mighty damp on\n     these promising expectations. In the first place, he much\n     questioned if there was in the fleet any one person who had\n     been ashore on the western coast of France, except himself,\n     who was once at Bourdeaux; and he, too, was a stranger to all\n     the country betwixt the town and the sea. He had no single map\n     of any part of France on board with him; and what intelligence\n     he may be able to force from the people of the country can be\n     but little to be depended on, as it must be their interest to\n     mislead him. And if money prove necessary, either for\n     obtaining intelligence, carrying on of works, or even\n     subsisting the officers, he must raise it in the country; for,\n     except a few chests of Mexican dollars, consigned to other\n     uses, he carried no money with him. If he advanced any where\n     into the country, he must be at a very great loss for want of\n     horses to draw the artillery; as the inhabitants will\n     undoubtedly carry off as many of them as they could, and he\n     had neither hussars nor dragoons to force them back again. And\n     as to the preserving any conquests he might make, (of which\n     the Duke had dropped some hints,) he observed that every place\n     which was not impregnable to him, with such small force, must\n     be untenable by him. On the whole, he engaged for nothing but\n     obedience; he promised no success; he professed absolute\n     ignorance with regard to every circumstance of the\n     undertaking; he even could not fix on any particular\n     undertaking; and yet he lay under positive orders to sail with\n     the first fair wind, to approach the unknown coast, march\n     through the unknown country, and attack the unknown cities of\n     the most potent nation of the universe.\n\n     Meanwhile, Admiral Anson, who had put into Plymouth, and had\n     been detained there by the same contrary winds, which still\n     prevailed, had a conversation with the General and Admiral on\n     the subject of their enterprise. He told them, that he\n     remembered to have once casually heard from Mr. Hume, member\n     for Southwark, that he had been at L'Orient, and that, though\n     it be very strong by sea, it is not so by land. Though Mr.\n     Hume, the gentleman mentioned, be bred to a mercantile\n     profession, not to war, and though the intelligence received\n     from him was only casual, imperfect, and by second-hand, yet\n     it gave pleasure to the Admiral and General, as it afforded\n     them a faint glimmering ray in their present obscurity and\n     ignorance; and they accordingly resolved to follow it. They\n     wrote to the Duke of Newcastle, September the 3d, that 'twas\n     to L'Orient they intended to bend their course, as soon as the\n     wind offered. To remedy the ignorance of the coast and want of\n     pilots, as far as possible, Commodore Cotes in the Ruby,\n     together with Captain Stewart in the Hastings, and a sloop and\n     tender, was immediately despatched by the Admiral to view Port\n     L'Orient and all the places near it, so far as might regard\n     the safe approach and anchorage of the ships. The ignorance of\n     the country, and want of guides, was a desperate evil, for\n     which the General could provide no remedy. But as the wind\n     still continued contrary to the fleet and transports, though\n     single ships of war might work their way against it, the\n     General had occasion to see farther alterations made by the\n     ministry in their project of an invasion.\n\n     The Duke of Newcastle, who had before informed the General\n     that, if he could establish himself on any part of the coast\n     of France, two battalions of the Guards, and General Huske's\n     regiment, should be despatched after him, now says, (Sept. 3,)\n     that these three battalions have got immediate orders to\n     follow him. He farther adds, that if the General finds it\n     impracticable to make any descent on the coast of Brittany, or\n     higher up in the Bay of Biscay, he would probably find, on his\n     return, some intelligence sent him, by the reinforcement, with\n     regard to the coast of Normandy. Next day the Duke changes his\n     mind, and sends immediately this intelligence with regard to\n     the coast of Normandy, and a plan for annoying the French on\n     that quarter, proposed by Major Macdonald; and to this plan he\n     seems entirely to give the preference to the other, of making\n     an attempt on the western coast of France, to which he had\n     before confined the Admiral and General. They considered the\n     plan, and conversed with Major Macdonald, who came down to\n     Plymouth a few days after. They found that this plan had been\n     given in some years before, and was not in the least\n     calculated for the present expedition, but required a body of\n     cavalry as an essential point towards its execution; an\n     advantage of which the General was entirely destitute. They\n     found that Major Macdonald had had so few opportunities of\n     improving himself in the art of war, that it would be\n     dangerous, without farther information, to follow his plan in\n     any military operations. They found that he pretended only to\n     know the strength of the town, and nature of the country, in\n     that province, but had never acquainted himself with the\n     sea-coast, or pitched upon any proper place for\n     disembarkation. They considered that a very considerable step\n     had been already taken towards the execution of the other\n     project on the coast of Brittany, viz. the sending Commodore\n     Cotes to inspect and sound the coast; and that the same step\n     must now be taken anew, in so late a season, with regard to\n     the coast of Normandy. They thought that, if their whole\n     operations were to begin, an attempt on the western coast was\n     preferable, chiefly because of its remoteness from the\n     Flanders' army, which must increase and spread the alarm, if\n     the country were really so defenceless as was believed. They\n     represented all those reasons to the Secretary; but at the\n     same time expressed their intentions of remaining at Plymouth\n     till they should receive his majesty's positive orders with\n     regard to the enterprise on which they were to engage.\n\n     The Duke immediately despatched a messenger, with full powers\n     to them to go whithersoever they pleased. During this\n     interval, the General was obliged, to his great regret, to\n     remain in a manner wholly inactive. Plymouth was so remote a\n     place, that it was not to be expected he could there get any\n     proper intelligence. He was bound up by his orders to such\n     inviolable secrecy, that he could not make any inquiries for\n     it, or scarce receive it, if offered. The Secretary had sent\n     Major Macdonald, and one Cooke, captain of a privateer, who,\n     'twas found, could be of no manner of service in this\n     undertaking. These, he said, were the only persons he could\n     find in London that pretended to know any thing of the coast\n     of France, as if the question had been with regard to the\n     coast of Japan or of California. The General desired to have\n     maps of France, chiefly of Gascony and Brittany. He receives\n     only a map of Gascony, together with one of Normandy. No map\n     of Brittany; none of France; he is obliged to set out on so\n     important an enterprise without intelligence, without pilots,\n     without guides, without any map of the country to which he was\n     bound, except a common map, on a small scale, of the kingdom\n     of France, which his Aid-de-camp had been able to pick up in a\n     shop at Plymouth. He represented all these difficulties to the\n     ministry; he begged them not to flatter themselves with any\n     success from a General who had such obstacles to surmount, and\n     who must leave his conduct to the government of chance more\n     than prudence. He was answered, that nothing was expected of\n     him, but to land any where he pleased in France, to produce an\n     alarm, and to return safe, with the fleet and transports, to\n     the British dominions. Though he was sensible that more would\n     be expected by the people, yet he cheerfully despised their\n     rash judgments, while he acted in obedience to orders, and in\n     the prosecution of his duty. The fleet sailed from Plymouth on\n     the 15th of September, and, after a short voyage of three\n     days, arrived, in the evening of the 18th, off the island of\n     Groa, where they found Commodore Cotes and Captain Stuart, who\n     gave them an account of the success which they had met with in\n     the survey of the coast near L'Orient. The place they had\n     pitched on for landing, was ten miles from that town, at the\n     mouth of the river of Quimperlay. They represented it as a\n     flat open shore, with deep water: on these accounts a good\n     landing-place for the troops, but a dangerous place for the\n     ships to ride in, on account of the rocks with which it was\n     every where surrounded, and the high swell which was thrown\n     in, from the Bay of Biscay, by the west and south-west winds.\n\n     It was then about eight in the evening, a full moon and a\n     clear sky, with a gentle breeze blowing in shore. The question\n     was, whether to sail directly to the landing-place, or hold\n     off till morning. The two officers who had surveyed the coast\n     were divided in opinion: one recommended the former measure,\n     the other suggested some scruples, by representing the\n     dangerous rocks that lay on every side of them, and the\n     ignorance of all the pilots with regard to their number and\n     situation. The Admiral was determined, by these reasons, to\n     agree to this opinion. The question seemed little important,\n     as it regarded only a short delay; but really was of the\n     utmost consequence, and was, indeed, the spring whence all the\n     ill success in this expedition flowed.\n\n     The great age of Admiral Listock, as it increased his\n     experience, should make us cautious of censuring his opinion\n     in sea affairs, where he was allowed to have such consummate\n     knowledge. But at the same time, it may beget a suspicion,\n     that being now in the decline of life, he was thence naturally\n     inclined rather to the prudent counsels which suit a concerted\n     enterprise, than to the bold temerity which belongs to such\n     hasty and blind undertakings. The unhappy consequences of this\n     over-cautious measure immediately appeared. The Admiral had\n     laid his account, that by a delay, which procured a greater\n     safety to the fleet and transports, only four or five hours\n     would be lost; but the wind changing in the morning, and\n     blowing fresh off shore, all next day, and part of next night,\n     was spent before the ships could reach the landing-place. Some\n     of them were not able to reach it till two days after.\n\n     During this time, the fleet lay full in view of the coast,\n     and preparations were making in Port Louis, L'Orient, and\n     over the whole country, for the reception of an enemy, who\n     threatened them with so unexpected an invasion.\n\n     The force of France, either for offence or defence, consists\n     chiefly in three different bodies of men: first, in a numerous\n     veteran army, which was then entirely employed in Italy and on\n     their frontiers, except some shattered regiments, which were\n     dispersed about the country, for the advantage of recruiting,\n     and of which there were two regiments of dragoons at that time\n     in Brittany; secondly, in a regular and disciplined militia,\n     with which all the fortified cities along the sea-coast were\n     garrisoned, and many of the frontier towns, that seemed not to\n     be threatened with any immediate attack. Some bodies of this\n     militia had also been employed in the field with the regular\n     troops, and had acquired honour, which gave spirits and\n     courage to the rest: thirdly, in a numerous body of coast\n     militia, or gardes-du-cote, amounting to near 200,000, ill\n     armed and ill disciplined, formidable alone by their numbers;\n     and in Brittany, by the ferocity of the inhabitants, esteemed\n     of old and at present, the most warlike and least civilized of\n     all the French peasants. Regular signals were concerted for\n     the assembling of these forces, by alarm guns, flags, and\n     fires; and in the morning of the 20th of September, by break\n     of day, a considerable body of all these different kinds of\n     troops, but chiefly of the last, amounting to above 3000 men,\n     were seen upon the sea-shore to oppose the disembarkation of\n     the British forces. A disposition, therefore, of ships and\n     boats must be made for the regular landing of the army; and as\n     the weather was then very blustering, and the wind blew almost\n     off shore, this could not be effected till afternoon.\n\n     There appeared, in view of the fleet, three places which\n     seemed proper for a disembarkation, and which were separated\n     from each other either by a rising ground, or by a small arm\n     of the sea. The French militia had posted themselves in the\n     two places which lay nearest to L'Orient; and finding that\n     they were not numerous enough to cover the whole, they left\n     the third, which lay to the windward, almost wholly\n     defenceless. The General ordered the boats to rendezvous\n     opposite to this beach; and he saw the French troops march off\n     from the next contiguous landing-place, and take post opposite\n     to him. They placed themselves behind some sandbanks, in such\n     a manner as to be entirely sheltered from the cannon of those\n     English ships which covered the landing, while at the same\n     time they could rush in upon the troops, as soon as their\n     approach to the shore had obliged the ships to leave off\n     firing.\n\n     The General remarked their plan of defence, and was\n     determined to disappoint them. He observed, that the next\n     landing-place to the leeward was now empty; and that, though\n     the troops which had been posted on the more distant beach had\n     quitted their station, and were making a circuit round an arm\n     of the sea, in order to occupy the place deserted by the\n     others, they had not as yet reached it. He immediately seized\n     the opportunity. He ordered his boats to row directly forward,\n     as if he intended to land on the beach opposite to him; but\n     while the enemy were expecting him to advance, he ordered the\n     boats to turn, at a signal; and, making all the speed that\n     both oars and sails could give them, to steer directly to the\n     place deserted by the enemy. In order to render the\n     disembarkation more safe, he had previously ordered two\n     tenders to attack a battery, which had been placed on a mount\n     towards the right, and which was well situated for annoying\n     the boats on their approach. The tenders succeeded in chasing\n     the French from their guns; the boats reached the shore before\n     any of the French could be opposite to them. The soldiers\n     landed, to the number of about six hundred men, and formed in\n     an instant; immediately upon which the whole militia dispersed\n     and fled up into the country. The English followed them\n     regularly and in good order; prognosticating success to the\n     enterprise from such a fortunate beginning.\n\n     There was a creek, or arm of the sea, dry at low water, which\n     lay on the right hand of the landing-place, and through which\n     ran the nearest road to L'Orient, and the only one fit for the\n     march of troops, or the draught of cannon and heavy carriages.\n     As it was then high water, the French runaways were obliged,\n     by this creek, to make a circuit of some miles; and they\n     thereby misled the general, who, justly concluding they would\n     take shelter in that town, and having no other guides to\n     conduct him, thought that, by following their footsteps, he\n     would be led the readiest and shortest way to L'Orient. He\n     detached, therefore, in pursuit of the flying militia, about a\n     thousand men, under the command of Brigadier O'Farrel; who,\n     after being harassed by some firing from the hedges, (by which\n     Lieut.-Col. Erskine, Quarter-Master General, was dangerously\n     wounded,) arrived that evening at Guidel, a village about a\n     league distant from the landing-place. The general himself lay\n     near the sea-shore, to wait for the landing of the rest of the\n     forces. By break of day he led them up to join the brigadier\n     at Guidel. He there learned from some peasants, taken\n     prisoners, and who spoke the French language, (which few of\n     the common people in Brittany are able to do,) that the road\n     into which he had been led, by the reasons above specified,\n     was the longest by four or five miles. He was also informed,\n     what he had partly seen, that the road was very dangerous and\n     difficult, running through narrow lanes and defiles, betwixt\n     high hedges, faced with stone walls, and bordered in many\n     places with thick woods and brushes, where a very few\n     disciplined and brave troops might stop a whole army; and\n     where even a few, without discipline or bravery, might, by\n     firing suddenly upon the forces, throw them into confusion.\n\n     In order to acquire a more thorough knowledge of the country,\n     of which he and the whole army were utterly ignorant, he here\n     divided the troops into two equal bodies, and marched them up\n     to L'Orient, by two different roads, which were pointed out to\n     him. The one part, which he himself conducted, passed without\n     much molestation. The other, under Brigadier O'Farrel, was not\n     so fortunate. Two battalions of that detachment, Richbell's\n     and Frampton's, partly from their want of experience, and\n     partly from the terror naturally inspired into soldiers by\n     finding themselves in a difficult country unknown both to\n     themselves and leaders, and partly, perhaps, from accident, to\n     which the courage of men is extremely liable, fell into\n     confusion, before a handful of French peasants who fired at\n     them from behind the hedges. Notwithstanding all the\n     endeavours of the Brigadier, many of them threw down their\n     arms, and ran away; others fired in confusion, and wounded\n     each other; and if any regular forces had been present to take\n     advantage of this disorder, the most fatal consequences might\n     have ensued. And though they were at last led on, and joined\n     the general that evening before L'Orient, the panic still\n     remained in these two battalions afterwards, and communicated\n     itself to others; kept the whole army in anxiety, even when\n     they were not in danger, and threw a mighty damp on the\n     expectations of success, conceived from this undertaking.\n     L'Orient, lately a small village, now a considerable town, on\n     the coast of Brittany, lies in the extremity of a fine bay,\n     the mouth of which is very narrow, and guarded by the strong\n     citadel of Port Louis. This town has become the centre of the\n     French East India trade, the seat of the company established\n     for that commerce, and the magazine whence they distribute the\n     East India commodities. The great prizes made upon them by the\n     English, during the course of the war, had given a check to\n     this growing commerce; yet still the town was esteemed a\n     valuable acquisition, were it only on account of the wealth it\n     contained, and the store-houses of the company, a range of\n     stately buildings, erected at public charge, both for use and\n     ornament. The town itself is far from being strong. Two sides\n     of it, which are not protected with water, are defended only\n     with a plain wall, near thirty feet high, of no great\n     thickness, and without any fosse or parapet. But the water\n     which covers the other two sides, rendered it impossible to\n     be invested, and gave an opportunity for multitudes of people\n     to throw themselves into it from every corner of that populous\n     country. And though these, for want of discipline, could not\n     be trusted in the field against regular forces, yet became\n     they of great use in a defence behind walls, by throwing up\n     works, erecting batteries, and digging trenches, to secure\n     (what was sufficient) for a few days, a weak town against a\n     small and ill-provided army. The East India Company had\n     numbers of cannon in their magazines, and had there erected a\n     school of engineers, for the service of their ships and\n     settlements; the vessels in the harbour supplied them with\n     more cannon, and with seamen accustomed to their management\n     and use; and whatever was wanting, either in artillery or\n     warlike stores, could easily be brought by water from Port\n     Louis, with which the town of L'Orient kept always an open\n     communication.\n\n     But as these advantages, though great, require both a\n     sufficient presence of mind, and some time, to be employed\n     against an enemy, 'tis not improbable, that if the admiral had\n     been supplied with proper pilots, and the general with proper\n     guides, which could have led the English immediately upon the\n     coast, and to the town, the very terror of so unexpected an\n     invasion would have rendered the inhabitants incapable of\n     resistance, and made them surrender at discretion. The want of\n     these advantages had already lost two days; and more time must\n     yet be consumed, before they could so much as make the\n     appearance of an attack. Cannon was wanting, and the road by\n     which the army had marched, was absolutely unfit for the\n     conveyance of them. The general, therefore, having first\n     despatched an officer and a party to reconnoitre the country,\n     and find a nearer and better road, September 22d, went himself\n     next day to the sea-shore, for the same purpose, and also in\n     order to concert with the admiral the proper method of\n     bringing up cannon; as almost all the horses in the country,\n     which are extremely weak and of a diminutive size, had been\n     driven away by the peasants. Accordingly, a road was found,\n     much nearer, though still ten miles of length; and much\n     better, though easily rendered impassable by rainy weather, as\n     was afterwards experienced.\n\n     A council of war was held on board the Princessa, consisting\n     of the admiral and general, Brigadier O'Farrel and Commodore\n     Cotes. The engineers, Director-General Armstrong, and Captain\n     Watson, who had surveyed the town of L'Orient, being called\n     in, were asked their opinion with regard to the practicability\n     of an attempt on it, together with the time, and artillery,\n     and ammunition, requisite for that purpose. Their answer was,\n     that with two twelve pounders, and a ten inch mortar, planted\n     on the spot which they had pitched on for erecting a battery,\n     they engaged either to make a practicable breach in the walls,\n     or with cartridges, bombs, and red-hot balls, destroy the\n     town, by laying it in ashes in twenty-four hours. Captain\n     Chalmers, the captain of the artillery, who had not then seen\n     the town, was of the same opinion, from their description of\n     it, provided the battery was within the proper distance. Had\n     the king's orders been less positive for making an attempt on\n     some part of the coast of France, yet such flattering views\n     offered by men who promised what lay within the sphere of\n     their own profession, must have engaged the attention of the\n     admiral and general, and induced them to venture on a much\n     more hazardous and difficult undertaking. 'Twas accordingly\n     agreed that four twelve pounders, and a ten inch mortar,\n     together with three field-pieces, should be drawn up to the\n     camp by sailors, in order to make, with still greater\n     assurance, the attempt, whose success seemed so certain to the\n     engineers. These pieces of artillery, with the stores\n     demanded, notwithstanding all difficulties, were drawn to the\n     camp in two days, except two twelve pounders, which arrived\n     not till the day afterwards. A third part of the sailors of\n     the whole fleet, together with all the marines, were employed\n     in this drudgery; the admiral gave all assistance in his power\n     to the general; and the public, in one instance, saw that it\n     was not impossible for land and sea officers to live in\n     harmony together, and concur in promoting the success of an\n     enterprise.\n\n     The general, on his arrival in the camp, found the officer\n     returned whom he had sent to summon the town of L'Orient. By\n     his information, it appeared that the inhabitants were so much\n     alarmed by the suddenness of this incursion, and the terror of\n     a force, which their fears magnified, as to think of\n     surrendering, though upon conditions, which would have\n     rendered the conquest of no avail to their enemies. The\n     inhabitants insisted upon an absolute security to their houses\n     and goods; the East India Company to their magazines and\n     store-houses; and the garrison, consisting of about seven\n     hundred regular militia and troops, besides a great number of\n     irregulars, demanded a liberty of marching out with all the\n     honours of war. A weak town that opened its gates on such\n     conditions was not worth the entering; since it must\n     immediately be abandoned, leaving only to its conquerors the\n     shame of their own folly, and perhaps the reproach of\n     treachery. The general, therefore, partly trusting to the\n     promise of the engineers, and partly desirous of improving the\n     advantages gained by the present danger, when the deputies\n     arrived next day, September 23d, from the governor, from the\n     town, and from the East India Company, refused to receive any\n     articles but those from the governor, who commanded in the\n     name of his most Christian majesty. He even refused liberty to\n     the garrison to march out; well knowing that, as the town was\n     not invested, they could take that liberty whenever they\n     pleased.\n\n     Meanwhile, every accident concurred to render the enterprise\n     of the English abortive. Some deserters got into the town, who\n     informed the garrison of the true force of the English, which,\n     conjecturing from the greatness and number of the ships, they\n     had much magnified. Even this small body diminished daily,\n     from the fatigue of excessive duty, and from the great rains\n     that began to fall. Scarce three thousand were left to do\n     duty, which still augmented the fatigue to the few that\n     remained; especially when joined to the frequent alarms, that\n     the unaccountable panic they were struck with made but too\n     frequent. Rains had so spoilt the roads as to render it\n     impracticable to bring up any heavier cannon, or more of the\n     same calibre, so long a way, by the mere force of seamen. But\n     what, above all things, made the enterprise appear desperate,\n     was the discovery of the ignorance of the engineers, chiefly\n     of the director-general, who in the whole course of his\n     proceedings appeared neither to have skill in contrivance, nor\n     order and diligence in execution. His own want of capacity and\n     experience, made his projects of no use; his blind obstinacy\n     rendered him incapable of making use of the capacity of\n     others. Though the general offered to place and support the\n     battery wherever the engineer thought proper, he chose to set\n     it above six hundred yards from the wall, where such small\n     cannon could do no manner of execution. He planted it at so\n     oblique an angle to the wall that the ball thrown from the\n     largest cannon must have recoiled, without making any\n     impression. He trusted much to the red-hot balls, with which\n     he promised to lay the town in ashes in twenty-four hours;\n     yet, by his negligence, or that of others, the furnace with\n     which these balls were to be heated, was forgot. After the\n     furnace was brought, he found that the bellows, and other\n     implements necessary for the execution of that work, were also\n     left on board the store-ships. With great difficulty, and\n     infinite pains, ammunition and artillery stores were drawn up\n     from the sea-shore in tumbrels. He was totally ignorant, till\n     some days after, that he had along with him ammunition wagons,\n     which would have much facilitated this labour. His orders to\n     the officers of the train were so confused, or so ill obeyed,\n     that no ammunition came regularly up to the camp, to serve the\n     few cannon and the mortars that played upon the town. Not only\n     fascines, piquets, and every thing necessary for the battery,\n     were supplied him beyond his demand; but even workmen,\n     notwithstanding the great fatigue and small numbers of the\n     army. These workmen found no addition to their fatigue in\n     obeying his orders. He left them often unemployed, for want of\n     knowing in what business he should occupy them.\n\n     Meanwhile the French garrison, being so weakly attacked, had\n     leisure to prepare for a defence, and make proper use of their\n     great number of workmen, if not of soldiers, and the nearness\n     and plenty of their military stores. By throwing up earth in\n     the inside of the wall, they had planted a great many cannon,\n     some of a large calibre, and opened six batteries against one\n     that played upon them from the English. The distance alone of\n     the besiegers' battery, made these cannon of the enemy do less\n     execution; but that same distance rendered the attack\n     absolutely ineffectual. Were the battery brought nearer, to a\n     hundred paces for instance, 'twould be requisite to make it\n     communicate with the camp by trenches and a covered way, to\n     dig which was the work of some days for so small an army.\n     During this time, the besieged, foreseeing the place to which\n     the attack must be directed, could easily fortify it by\n     retrenchments in the inside of the wall; and planting ten\n     cannon to one, could silence the besiegers' feeble battery in\n     a few hours. They would not even have had leisure to make a\n     breach in the thin wall, which first discovered itself; and\n     that breach, if made, could not possibly serve to any purpose.\n     Above fifteen thousand men, completely armed by the East India\n     Company, and brave while protected by cannon and ramparts,\n     still stood in opposition to three thousand, discouraged with\n     fatigue, with sickness, and with despair of ever succeeding in\n     so unequal a contest.\n\n            *       *       *       *       *\n\n     A certain foreign writer, more anxious to tell his stories in\n     an entertaining manner than to assure himself of their\n     reality, has endeavoured to put this expedition in a\n     ridiculous light; but as there is not one circumstance of his\n     narration, which has truth in it, or even the least appearance\n     of truth, it would be needless to lose time in refuting it.\n     With regard to the prejudices of the public, a few questions\n     may suffice.\n\n     Was the attempt altogether impracticable from the beginning?\n     The general neither proposed it, nor planned it, nor approved\n     it, nor answered for its success. Did the disappointment\n     proceed from want of expedition? He had no pilots, guides, nor\n     intelligence, afforded him; and could not possibly provide\n     himself in any of these advantages, so necessary to all\n     military operations. Were the engineers blamable? This has\n     always been considered as a branch of military knowledge,\n     distinct from that of a commander, and which is altogether\n     intrusted to those to whose profession it peculiarly belongs.\n     By his vigour in combating the vain terrors spread amongst the\n     troops, and by his prudence in timely desisting from a\n     fruitless enterprise, the misfortune was confined merely to a\n     disappointment, without any loss or any dishonour to the\n     British arms. Commanders, from the situation of affairs, have\n     had opportunities of acquiring more honour; yet there is no\n     one whose conduct, in every circumstance, could be more free\n     from reproach. On the first of October, the fleet sailed out\n     of Quimperlay Road, from one of the most dangerous situations\n     that so large a fleet had ever lain in, at so late a season,\n     and in so stormy a sea as the Bay of Biscay. The reflection on\n     this danger had been no inconsiderable cause of hastening the\n     re-embarkation of the troops. And the more so, that the\n     secretary had given express orders to the admiral not to bring\n     the fleet into any hazard. The prudence of the hasty departure\n     appeared the more visibly the very day the fleet sailed, when\n     a violent storm arising from the south west, it was concluded,\n     that if the ships had been lying at anchor on the coast, many\n     of them must have necessarily been driven ashore, and wrecked\n     on the rocks that surrounded them. The fleet was dispersed,\n     and six transports being separated from the rest, went\n     immediately for England, carrying with them about eight\n     hundred of the forces. The rest put into Quiberon Bay, and the\n     general landed his small body on the peninsula of that name.\n     By erecting a battery of some guns on the narrow neck of land,\n     which joins the peninsula to the continent, he rendered his\n     situation almost impregnable, while he saw the fleet riding\n     secure in his neighbourhood, in one of the finest bays in the\n     world.\n\n     The industry and spirit of the general supported both himself\n     and the army against all these disadvantages, while there was\n     the smallest prospect of success. But his prudence determined\n     him to abandon it, when it appeared altogether desperate.\n\n     The engineers, seeing no manner of effect from their shells\n     and red-hot balls, and sensible that 'twas impossible either\n     to make a breach from a battery, erected at so great a\n     distance, or to place the battery nearer, under such a\n     superiority of French cannon, at last unanimously brought a\n     report to the general, that they had no longer any hope of\n     success; and that even all the ammunition, which, with\n     infinite labour, had been brought, was expended: no prospect\n     remained of being farther supplied, on account of the broken\n     roads, which lay between them and the fleet. The council of\n     war held in consequence of this report, balanced the reasons\n     for continuing or abandoning the enterprise, if men can be\n     said to balance where they find nothing on the one side but an\n     extreme desire to serve their king and country, and on the\n     other every maxim of war and prudence. They unanimously agreed\n     to abandon the attempt, and return on board the transports.\n     The whole troops were accordingly re-embarked by the 28th of\n     September, with the loss of near twenty men killed and\n     wounded, on the whole enterprise.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[441:1] See ante, p. 218.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX B.\n\nLETTERS REFERRED TO IN THE TEXT.[456:1]\n\n\nI.--LETTERS FROM MONTESQUIEU TO HUME.[456:2]\n\n\n(1.)\n\n     J'ai re\u00e7u Monsieur, comme une chose tr\u00e8s pr\u00e9cieuse, la belle\n     lettre que vous m'avez fait l'honneur de m'\u00e9crire au sujet de\n     mon ouvrage. Elle est remplie de r\u00e9flexions si judicieuses et\n     si sens\u00e9es, que je ne s\u00e7aurois vous dire \u00e0 quel point j'en ai\n     \u00e9t\u00e9 charm\u00e9. Ce que vous dites sur la forme dont les jur\u00e9s\n     prononcent en Angleterre, ou en Ecosse, m'a surtout fait un\n     grand plaisir, et l'endroit de mon livre o\u00f9 j'ai trait\u00e9 cette\n     mati\u00e8re est peut-\u00eatre celui qui m'a fait le plus de peine, et\n     o\u00f9 j'ai le plus souvent chang\u00e9. Ce que j'avois fait, parce-que\n     je n'avois trouv\u00e9 personne qui eut la-dessus des id\u00e9es aussi\n     nettes, que vous avez. Mais c'est assez parler de mon livre\n     que j'ai l'honneur de vous pr\u00e9senter. J'aime mieux vous parler\n     d'une belle dissertation o\u00f9 vous donnez une beaucoup plus\n     grande influence aux causes morales qu'aux causes\n     physiques--et il m'a paru, autant que je suis capable d'en\n     juger, que ce sujet est trait\u00e9 \u00e0 fond, quelque difficile qu'il\n     soit \u00e0 traiter, et \u00e9crit de main de ma\u00eetre, et rempli d'id\u00e9es\n     et de r\u00e9flexions tr\u00e8s neuves. Nous commen\u00e7\u00e2mes aussi \u00e0\n     lire--M. Stuart et moi--un autre ouvrage de vous o\u00f9 vous\n     maltraitez un peu l'ordre eccl\u00e9siastique. Vous croyez bien que\n     Monsr. Stuart et moi n'avons pas pu enti\u00e8rement vous\n     approuver--nous nous sommes content\u00e9s de vous admirer. Nous ne\n     cr\u00fbmes pas que ces Messieurs furent tels, mais nous trouv\u00e2mes\n     fort bonnes les raisons que vous donnez pour qu'ils dussent\n     \u00eatre tels. M. Stuart m'a fait un grand plaisir en me faisant\n     esp\u00e9rer que je trouverois \u00e0 Paris une partie de ces beaux\n     ouvrages. J'ai l'honneur, Monsieur, de vous en remercier, et\n     d'\u00eatre avec les sentimens de la plus parfaite estime, votre\n     tr\u00e8s humble et tr\u00e8s ob\u00e9issant serviteur.\n\n                                                MONTESQUIEU.\n\n     _A Bordeaux, ce 19 May, 1749._\n\n\n(2.)\n\n     Monsieur j'ai re\u00e7u la lettre que vous m'avez fait l'honneur de\n     m'\u00e9crire du 16 de Juillet, et il ne m'a \u00e9t\u00e9 possible de la\n     lire qu' aujourdhui, \u00e0 cause d'une grande fluxion sur les yeux\n     et que n'ayant point actuellement de secr\u00e9taire Anglais je ne\n     pouvois me la faire lire. J'\u00e9tois pr\u00eat \u00e0 y faire r\u00e9ponse quand\n     Mr. Le Mosnier est entr\u00e9 chez moi, et m'a parl\u00e9 de l'honneur\n     qu'on veut faire \u00e0 mon livre en Ecosse de l'y imprimer, et m'a\n     dit ce que vous m'avez d\u00e9j\u00e0 appris par votre lettre. Je suis\n     tr\u00e8s oblig\u00e9 \u00e0 vous Monsieur et \u00e0 Monsieur Alexandre, de la\n     peine que vous avez prise. Je suis convenu avec M. Le Mosnier\n     que je ferais faire une copie des corrections que j'ai\n     envoi\u00e9es en Angleterre, et \u00e0 Paris, de la premi\u00e8re \u00e9dition de\n     Gen\u00e8ve, en 2 volumes in 4to qui est tr\u00e8s fautive, et qu'il se\n     chargeroit de les envoyer. J'ai re\u00e7u Monsieur, les exemplaires\n     de vos beaux ouvrages que vous avez eu la bont\u00e9 de m'envoyer,\n     et j'ai lu avec un tr\u00e8s grand plaisir l'essay sur l'esprit\n     humain, qui ne peut partir que d'un esprit extr\u00eamement\n     philosophique. Tout ceci est rempli de belles id\u00e9es, et je\n     vous remercie du plaisir que la lecture m'en a fait; \u00e0 l'\u00e9gard\n     de la citation des Lettres Persanes il vaut autant que mon nom\n     y soit que celui d'un autre, et cela n'est d'aucune\n     cons\u00e9quence.\n\n     La r\u00e9putation de Monsieur le Docteur Midleton est certainement\n     venue jusqu'\u00e0 nous. Notior ut jam sit canibus non Delia\n     nostris, et j'esp\u00e8re bien me procurer l'avantage de lire les\n     ouvrages dont vous me parlez. Je s\u00e7ais que Mr. de Midleton est\n     un homme \u00e9minent. J'ai Monsieur l'honneur d'\u00eatre, &c.\n\n     _A Paris ce 3 7bre, 1749._\n\n     Je vous prie Monsieur, de vouloir bien faire mes compliments\n     tr\u00e8s humbles \u00e0 Mons. Stewart: il fairoit bien de venir nous\n     revoir cet automne prochain.\n\n\n(3.)\n\n     J'ai Monsieur re\u00e7u l'honneur de votre lettre avec la postille\n     qui y est jointe, et j'ai de plus re\u00e7u un exemplaire de vos\n     excellentes compositions par la voie de Milord Morton. Mr. de\n     Jouquart qui a form\u00e9 le dessein de traduire l'ouvrage de\n     Mons{r.} Wallace, me dit hier qu'il traduiroit aussi le v\u00f4tre\n     sur le nombre des peuples chez les anciennes nations. Cela\n     d\u00e9pendra du succ\u00e8s qu'aura sa traduction qui est la premi\u00e8re\n     qu'il ait faite. Il est certain qu'il a tous les talents qu'il\n     faut pour s'en acquitter, et je ne doute pas que le public ne\n     l'encourage \u00e0 continuer. Le public qui admirera les deux\n     ouvrages, n'admirera pas moins deux amis qui font c\u00e9der d'une\n     mani\u00e8re si noble les petits int\u00e9r\u00eats de l'esprit aux int\u00e9r\u00eats\n     de l'amiti\u00e9; et pour moi, je regarderai comme un tr\u00e8s grand\n     bonheur, si je puis me flatter d'avoir quelque part dans cette\n     amiti\u00e9. J'ai l'honneur d'\u00eatre, &c.\n\n     _Paris, ce 13 Juillet, 1753._\n\n\nII.--LETTERS FROM THE ABB\u00c9 LE BLANC TO HUME.\n\n_Referred to in_ vol. i. p. 366, _and_ p. 408.\n\n\n(1.)\n\n     MONSIEUR,--La traduction de vos discours politiques, que j'ai\n     l'honneur de vous envoyer, est la preuve la plus \u00e9clatante que\n     je pouvois vous donner de l'estime que j'en fais; vous en\n     serez peut-\u00eatre plus content si j'avois \u00e9t\u00e9 \u00e0 port\u00e9e de\n     profiter de vos lumi\u00e8res. Je vous prie, et votre int\u00e9r\u00eat s'y\n     trouve comme le mien, de me faire la gr\u00e2ce de la lire avec\n     attention, et de m'avertir des endroits, ou malgr\u00e9 toute\n     l'attention que j'y ai apport\u00e9e, j'aurois pu m'\u00e9carter de\n     votre sens. J'en profiterai \u00e0 la premi\u00e8re \u00e9dition, ainsi que\n     des remarques, changements, ou additions, qu'il vous plaira me\n     communiquer, soit \u00e0 l'occasion de vos discours, soit sur les\n     autres ouvrages Anglois dont je parle dans mes notes.\n\n     Je vous prie encore Monsieur que ce soit le plus t\u00f4t qu'il\n     vous sera possible, car il est bon de vous dire que cette\n     traduction, gr\u00e2ce \u00e0 l'excellence de l'original, se d\u00e9bite ici\n     comme un Roman; c'est tout dire, notre go\u00fbt pour les futilit\u00e9s\n     vous est connu; il vous \u00e9toit r\u00e9serv\u00e9 de nous y faire\n     renoncer, pour nous occuper des mati\u00e8res les plus dignes\n     d'exercer les esprits raisonnables. Le Libraire m'avertit\n     qu'il sera bient\u00f4t tems de penser \u00e0 la seconde \u00e9dition.\n     J'attendrai votre r\u00e9ponse pour l'enrichir de vos remarques qui\n     feront que celle-ci sera re\u00e7ue du public avec encore plus\n     d'applaudissements.\n\n     Je profite de cette occasion pour vous offrir une amiti\u00e9 qui\n     vous sera, peut-\u00eatre, inutile, et vous demander la v\u00f4tre que\n     je serois tr\u00e8s flatt\u00e9 d'obtenir. Il semble que l'auteur et le\n     traducteur sont faits pour \u00eatre li\u00e9s ensemble: il est \u00e0\n     pr\u00e9sumer qui celui que traduit un ouvrage a d'avance ou du\n     moins \u00e9pous\u00e9 la fa\u00e7on de parler de celui qui l'a fait. J'ai\n     trouv\u00e9 dans vos discours un politique Philosophe, et un\n     Philosophe citoyen. Je n'ai moi-m\u00eame donn\u00e9 aucun ouvrage qui\n     ne porte ce double caract\u00e8re, et je me flatte que vous le\n     trouverez dans les Lettres d'un Fran\u00e7ois, si par hazard elles\n     vous sont connues.\n\n     J'ai l'honneur d'\u00eatre, avec les sentiments d'estime dont je\n     viens de vous donner des t\u00e9moignages publics, et cette sorte\n     de respect que je n'ai que pour quelques Philosophes tels que\n     vous. Monsieur, votre tr\u00e8s humble et tr\u00e8s ob\u00e9issant serviteur,\n\n     L'ABB\u00c9 LE BLANC, Historiographe des B\u00e2timents du Roy de France.\n\n     _De Paris, le 25th Ao\u00fbt, 1754._\n\n\n(2.)\n\n     MONSIEUR,--La traduction de vos discours politiques est la\n     premi\u00e8re que j'ai donn\u00e9e au public; et l'utilit\u00e9 que j'ai cru\n     que ma patrie en pouvoit retirer, est l'unique motif que m'ait\n     d\u00e9termin\u00e9 \u00e0 l'entreprendre. Je n'ose me r\u00e9pondre que vous la\n     trouverez telle que vous l'esp\u00e9rez. C'est \u00e0 moi \u00e0 vous\n     demander votre indulgence pour les fautes que vous y\n     trouverez, et \u00e0 vous prier de me communiquer vos remarques sur\n     des notes que j'ai cru y devoir adjouter. Je vous promets de\n     corriger avec soumission les erreurs que vos m'y ferez\n     apercevoir. A la fin du 2d vol. j'ai donn\u00e9 une notice des\n     meilleurs ouvrages Anglois que j'ai consult\u00e9s, sur les\n     mati\u00e8res du commerce; j'ai hazard\u00e9 de porter mon jugement sur\n     chacun de ceux dont j'ai parl\u00e9. Je le rectifierai sur vos\n     lumi\u00e8res, si vous voulez bien me les communiquer. Si j'en ai\n     omis quelqu'un d'important, je vous prie de me le faire\n     conno\u00eetre, et de me dire vous-m\u00eame, qui \u00eates un si excellent\n     juge, ce que l'on en doit penser. J'enricherai la 2 Edition de\n     tout ce dont vous voudrez bien me faire part.\n\n     A l'\u00e9gard de votre histoire de la Grande Bretagne que vous\n     m'annoncez, ce ne sera plus simplement comme votre admirateur\n     mais comme votre ami Monsieur, que j'en entreprendrai la\n     traduction, et je ferai de mon mieux pour qu'elle perde le\n     moins qu'il est possible. J'aime votre fa\u00e7on de penser, et je\n     suis familiaris\u00e9 avec votre stile; si la mati\u00e8re exige qu'il\n     soit plus \u00e9lev\u00e9 je tacherai d'y atteindre. Mais pour que je\n     puisse entreprendre cette traduction avec succ\u00e8s, il faut s'il\n     est possible, que vous retardiez \u00e0 Londres au moins d'un mois\n     la publication de votre ouvrage, et que vous me l'envoyez tout\n     de suite par la poste, address\u00e9 sans autre enveloppe \u00e0 Mr.\n     Jannes, Chevalier de l'ordre du Roi, Controlleur G\u00e9n\u00e9ral des\n     Postes \u00e0 Paris. Nous avons ici une foule d'\u00e9crivains\n     m\u00e9diocres, qui sans savoir ni l'Anglois ni le Fran\u00e7ois m\u00eame,\n     sont a l'aff\u00fbt de tout ce qui s'imprime chez vous, et qui \u00e0\n     l'aide d'un dictionnaire vous massacreront impitoyablement. On\n     nous a donn\u00e9 ainsi plusieurs bons ouvrages, et entre autres la\n     dissertation de M. Wallace dont il n'est pas possible de\n     supporter la lecture en Fran\u00e7ois. Pour faire de pareille\n     besogne, il ne faut pas beaucoup de tems \u00e0 ces Messieurs l\u00e0.\n     Ils travaillent v\u00eete, parce qu'ils travaillent _fami potius\n     quam fam\u00e6_. Si je n'ai pas du tems devant eux, je serai\n     pr\u00e9venu, et si je le suis, je serai oblig\u00e9 d'abandonner\n     l'ouvrage. Je ne vous parle pas des traducteurs de Hollande\n     qui sont encore plus mauvais s'il est possible. Cette fois-ci\n     je veux faire un office d'amiti\u00e9, je vous prie de me mettre \u00e0\n     port\u00e9e de le bien faire. Vos discours Politiques vous ont,\n     comme je m'y attendois, donn\u00e9 ici la plus haute r\u00e9putation,\n     d\u00e8s que votre histoire paro\u00eetra, un libraire la fera venir par\n     la poste, et mettra ses ouvriers apr\u00e8s, \u00e0 moins que vous ne\n     m'accordiez la gr\u00e2ce que je vous demande. Alors on saura que\n     je la traduis, et je suis s\u00fbr que ces messieurs me laisseront\n     faire.\n\n     J'ai encore \u00e0 vous apprendre, monsieur, que le succ\u00e8s de vos\n     Discours Politiques ne fait qu'augmenter tous les jours, et\n     que tout retentit de vos \u00c9loges. Nos ministres m\u00eame n'en sont\n     pas moins satisfaits que le public. Mr. le Comte d'Argenson,\n     Mr. Le Mar\u00e9chal de Noailles, en un mot tous ceux qui ont ici\n     part au gouvernement ont parl\u00e9 de votre ouvrage, comme d'un\n     des meilleurs qui ayent jamais \u00e9t\u00e9 faits sur ces mati\u00e8res.\n     J'ai \u00e9t\u00e9 oblig\u00e9 de c\u00e9der mon exemplaire \u00e0 un d'entre eux;\n     ainsi je vous prie de m'en adresser un par la m\u00eame voie que je\n     vous ai indiqu\u00e9e, la poste apr\u00e8s que vous m'aurez envoy\u00e9 le I.\n     vol. de votre histoire, d'autant plus que les additions et\n     corrections dont vous m'avez fait part se rapportent \u00e0 la 3{e}\n     edition qui je crois se trouveroit difficilement a Paris.\n\n\n(3.)\n\n     MONSIEUR,--Je vous avois promis, et je m'\u00e9tois flatt\u00e9 de\n     pouvoir consacrer mes veilles \u00e0 traduire aussi votre admirable\n     Histoire de l'infortun\u00e9e Maison de Stewart. Les obstacles les\n     plus puissants, ceux-m\u00eames qui \u00f4tent \u00e0 l'esprit cette libert\u00e9\n     sans laquelle on ne fait rien de bien, voyages, affaires,\n     disgr\u00e2ces, maladies--tout s'est oppos\u00e9 \u00e0 l'ex\u00e9cution d'un\n     projet qui rioit si fort \u00e0 mon imagination et dont l'ex\u00e9cution\n     ne pouroit que me faire honneur.\n\n     A ce d\u00e9faut j'ai pr\u00eat\u00e9 \u00e0 un de mes amis, homme d'esprit et\n     laborieux, le premier volume que vous avez eu la bont\u00e9 de\n     m'envoyer. Il l'a traduit et le rendra public au commencement\n     de l'hiver prochain.\n\n     J'ai de m\u00eame que tous ceux qui savent ici l'Anglois, le plus\n     grand empressement de lire votre second volume. J'en ferai le\n     m\u00eame usage que du premier.\n\n     Je vous avois annonc\u00e9 que vos discours Politiques feroient\n     parmi nous le m\u00eame effet que _L'Esprit des Loix_. L'\u00e9v\u00e8nement\n     m'a justifi\u00e9, non seulement ils jouissent parmi nous de cette\n     haute r\u00e9putation qu'ils m\u00e9ritent, mais ils ont donn\u00e9 lieu \u00e0\n     un grand nombre d'autres ouvrages plus ou moins estimables et\n     qui la plus part n'ont d'original que la forme. Vous en\n     trouverez le catalogue \u00e0 la suite d'une troisi\u00e8me \u00e9dition de\n     ma traduction que je vais donner incessamment.\n\n     Il vient d'en paro\u00eetre un qui fait ici un grand bruit, et que\n     je n'ai garde de confondre avec tous ceux dont je viens de\n     parler. Il est intitul\u00e9, L'AMI DES HOMMES OU TRAIT\u00c9 DE LA\n     POPULATION. L'Auteur est un g\u00e9nie hardi, original, qui comme\n     Montaigne se laisse aller \u00e0 ses id\u00e9es, les expose sans\n     orgueil, sans modestie; il ne suit ni ordre ni m\u00e9thode; mais\n     son ouvrage, plein d'excellentes choses, respire le bien de\n     l'humanit\u00e9 et de la patrie. Il pr\u00eache l'agriculture, et\n     foudroye la finance. Il combat votre syst\u00e8me sur le luxe, mais\n     avec les \u00e9gards \u00e9lev\u00e9s \u00e0 la superiorit\u00e9 de vos lumi\u00e8res. Il\n     m'a remis un exemplaire de son ouvrage, qu'il me prie de vous\n     pr\u00e9senter comme un tribut de son estime et de la\n     reconnoissance qu'il vous doit, pour l'utilit\u00e9 qu'il a tir\u00e9e\n     de vos Discours Politiques. Il ne demande pas mieux que d'\n     \u00eatre \u00e9clair\u00e9 et par la noblesse des sentiments et la politesse\n     de la conduite. Je ne crains pas de le dire. L'adversaire est\n     digne de vous. C'est _Monsieur le Marquis de Mirabeau_, qui\n     est tel qu'il paro\u00eet dans son livre--c'est \u00e0 dire un des plus\n     extraordinaires des hommes qu'il y ait en quelque pays que ce\n     soit. Je vous prie Monsieur de m'indiquer une voie s\u00fbre pour\n     vous faire parvenir son ouvrage.\n\n\n(4.)\n\n     _Dresde, le 25 Dec. 1754._\n\n     J'ai vu ici la traduction de vos Discours Politiques imprim\u00e9e\n     en Hollande; elle ne se peut pas lire; vous souffririez vous,\n     Monsieur, de vous voir ainsi d\u00e9figur\u00e9. Le Traducteur quel\n     qu'il soit ne sait constamment ni l'Anglois ni le Fran\u00e7ois.\n     C'est probablement un de ces auteurs qui travaillent \u00e0 la\n     foire pour les libraires de Hollande, et dont les ouvrages\n     bons ou mauvais se d\u00e9bitent aux foires de Leipsig et de\n     Francfort. Les biblioth\u00e8ques de ce pays ci sont remplies de\n     livres Fran\u00e7ois qui n'ont jamais \u00e9t\u00e9 et ne seront jamais\n     connus en France. Cette traduction passe ici pour \u00eatre d'un\n     Mr. Mauvillon de Leipsic dont le m\u00e9tier est de faire des\n     livres Fran\u00e7ois pour L'Allemagne, et d'enseigner ce qu'il ne\n     sait--c'est \u00e0 dire, votre langue et la n\u00f4tre. Ce qu'il y a de\n     Saxons lettr\u00e9s qui les poss\u00e8dent l'une ou l'autre, et qui\n     s'int\u00e9ressent au bien de leur pays, connoissent l'excellence\n     de votre ouvrage, me pressent de faire imprimer \u00e0 Dresde m\u00eame\n     la seconde \u00e9dition de ma traduction, et je pourrois bien me\n     rendre \u00e0 leur avis. Je n'attends plus que votre r\u00e9ponse pour\n     me d\u00e9cider. Quelque part qu'elle se fasse, je t\u00e2cherai de\n     faire en sorte qu'elle soit belle et correcte.\n\n\n(5.)\n\n     MONSIEUR,--Il y a \u00e0 peu pr\u00e8s un an que notre commerce\n     \u00e9pistolaire a commenc\u00e9, et j'ai grand regret que par des\n     contretems de tout esp\u00e8ce il ait \u00e9t\u00e9 sit\u00f4t interrompu. Vous\n     m'avez donn\u00e9 trop de preuves de votre politesse pour que je ne\n     sois pas \u00e0 pr\u00e9sent convaincu que vous n'avez re\u00e7u aucune des\n     lettres que je vous ai \u00e9crites de Dresde, et que j'avois\n     essay\u00e9 de vous faire passer par la voie de votre ambassadeur \u00e0\n     cette cour. Pr\u00eat a quitter la Saxe, je vous \u00e9crivis encor de\n     Le\u00efpzic, pour vous rendre compte de mon s\u00e9jour en ce pays, et\n     vous dire que la dissipation o\u00f9 j'y avois v\u00e9cu forc\u00e9ment, ne\n     m'avoit pas permis d'avancer beaucoup dans la traduction de\n     votre histoire de la malheureuse famille des Stuarts. J'ai\n     depuis \u00e9t\u00e9 en Hollande, et, comme je l'avois pr\u00e9vu j'ai appris\n     qu'un de ces auteurs, qui travaillent \u00e0 la fois aux gages des\n     libraires qui les employent, en avoit fait une de son cot\u00e9,\n     qui \u00e9toit toute pr\u00eate \u00e0 paro\u00eetre. Vous pouvez ais\u00e9ment juger\n     du d\u00e9couragement o\u00f9 une pareille nouvelle m'a jett\u00e9. La\n     manufacture des livres de Hollande fait r\u00e9ellement grand tort\n     \u00e0 notre litt\u00e9rature Fran\u00e7oise. On y employe \u00e0 traduire un\n     excellent ouvrage des gens qui ne seroient bons qu'\u00e0\n     travailler \u00e0 la fabrique du papier.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[456:1] From the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[456:2] See _antea_, p. 304.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX C.\n\nDOCUMENTS RELATING TO THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.\n\n\nI.--CORRESPONDENCE.\n\n\n(1.)\n\nHUME _to_ ----.\n\n     _Edinburgh, August 16, 1760._\n\n     SIR,--I am not surprised to find by your letter, that Mr. Gray\n     should have entertained suspicions with regard to the\n     authenticity of these fragments of our Highland poetry. The\n     first time I was shown the copies of some of them in\n     manuscript, by our friend John Home, I was inclined to be a\n     little incredulous on that head; but Mr. Home removed my\n     scruples, by informing me of the manner in which he procured\n     them from Mr. Macpherson, the translator.\n\n     These two gentlemen were drinking the waters together at\n     Moffat last autumn, when their conversation fell upon Highland\n     poetry, which Mr. Macpherson extolled very highly. Our friend,\n     who knew him to be a good scholar, and a man of taste, found\n     his curiosity excited, and asked whether he had ever\n     translated any of them. Mr. Macpherson replied, that he never\n     had attempted any such thing; and doubted whether it was\n     possible to transfuse such beauties into our language; but,\n     for Mr. Home's satisfaction, and in order to give him a\n     general notion of the strain of that wild poetry, he would\n     endeavour to turn one of them into English. He accordingly\n     brought him one next day, which our friend was so much pleased\n     with, that he never ceased soliciting Mr. Macpherson, till he\n     insensibly produced that small volume which has been\n     published.\n\n     After this volume was in every body's hands, and universally\n     admired, we heard every day new reasons, which put the\n     authenticity, not the great antiquity which the translator\n     ascribes to them, beyond all question; for their antiquity is\n     a point, which must be ascertained by reasoning; though the\n     arguments he employs seem very probable and convincing. But\n     certain it is, that these poems are in every body's mouth in\n     the Highlands, have been handed down from father to son, and\n     are of an age beyond all memory and tradition.\n\n     In the family of every Highland chieftain, there was anciently\n     retained a bard, whose office was the same with that of the\n     Greek rhapsodists; and the general subject of the poems which\n     they recited was the wars of Fingal; an epoch no less\n     remarkable among them, than the wars of Troy among the Greek\n     poets. This custom is not even yet altogether abolished: the\n     bard and piper are esteemed the most honourable offices in a\n     chieftain's family, and these two characters are frequently\n     united in the same person. Adam Smith, the celebrated\n     Professor in Glasgow, told me that the piper of the\n     Argyleshire militia repeated to him all those poems which Mr.\n     Macpherson has translated, and many more of equal beauty.\n     Major Mackay, Lord Reay's brother, also told me that he\n     remembers them perfectly; as likewise did the Laird of\n     Macfarlane, the greatest antiquarian whom we have in this\n     country, and who insists so strongly on the historical truth,\n     as well as on the poetical beauty of these productions. I\n     could add the Laird and Lady Macleod to these authorities,\n     with many more, if these were not sufficient, as they live in\n     different parts of the Highlands, very remote from each other,\n     and they could only be acquainted with poems that had become\n     in a manner national works, and had gradually spread\n     themselves into every mouth, and imprinted themselves on every\n     memory.\n\n     Every body in Edinburgh is so convinced of this truth, that we\n     have endeavoured to put Mr. Macpherson on a way of procuring\n     us more of these wild flowers. He is a modest, sensible, young\n     man, not settled in any living, but employed as a private\n     tutor in Mr. Grahame of Balgowan's family, a way of life which\n     he is not fond of. We have, therefore, set about a\n     subscription of a guinea or two guineas a-piece, in order to\n     enable him to quit that family, and undertake a mission into\n     the Highlands, where he hopes to recover more of these\n     fragments. There is, in particular, a country surgeon\n     somewhere in Lochaber, who, he says, can recite a great number\n     of them, but never committed them to writing; as indeed the\n     orthography of the Highland language is not fixed, and the\n     natives have always employed more the sword than the pen. This\n     surgeon has by heart the Epic poem mentioned by Mr. Macpherson\n     in his Preface; and as he is somewhat old, and is the only\n     person living that has it entire, we are in the more haste to\n     recover a monument, which will certainly be regarded as a\n     curiosity in the republic of letters.\n\n     I own that my first and chief objection to the authenticity of\n     these fragments, was not on account of the noble and even\n     tender strokes which they contain; for these are the offspring\n     of genius and passion in all countries; I was only surprised\n     at the regular plan which appears in some of these pieces, and\n     which seems to be the work of a more cultivated age. None of\n     the specimens of barbarous poetry known to us, the Hebrew,\n     Arabian, or any other, contain this species of beauty; and if\n     a regular epic poem, or even any thing of that kind, nearly\n     regular, should also come from that rough climate or\n     uncivilized people, it would appear to me a phenomenon\n     altogether unaccountable.\n\n     I remember Mr. Macpherson told me, that the heroes of this\n     Highland epic were not only, like Homer's heroes, their own\n     butchers, bakers, and cooks, but also their own shoemakers,\n     carpenters, and smiths. He mentioned an incident which put\n     this matter in a remarkable light. A warrior had the head of\n     his spear struck off in battle; upon which he immediately\n     retires behind the army, where a large forge was erected,\n     makes a new one, hurries back to the action, pierces his\n     enemy, while the iron, which was yet red-hot, hisses in the\n     wound. This imagery you will allow to be singular, and so well\n     imagined, that it would have been adopted by Homer, had the\n     manners of the Greeks allowed him to have employed it.\n\n     I forgot to mention, as another proof of the authenticity of\n     these poems, and even of the reality of the adventures\n     contained in them, that the names of the heroes, Fingal,\n     Oscar, Osur, Oscan, Dermid, are still given in the Highlands\n     to large mastiffs, in the same manner as we affix to them the\n     names of C\u00e6sar, Pompey, Hector, or the French that of\n     Marlborough.\n\n     It gives me pleasure to find, that a person of so fine a taste\n     as Mr. Gray approves of these fragments; as it may convince\n     us, that our fondness of them is not altogether founded on\n     national prepossessions, which, however, you know to be a\n     little strong. The translation is elegant; but I made an\n     objection to the author, which I wish you would communicate to\n     Mr. Gray, that we may judge of the justness of it. There\n     appeared to me many verses in his prose, and all of them in\n     the same measure with Mr. Shenstone's famous ballad:\n\n     \"Ye shepherds so cheerful and gay,\n     Whose flocks never carelessly roam, &c.\"\n\n     Pray, ask Mr. Gray, whether he made the same remark, &c. and\n     whether he thinks it a blemish. Yours most sincerely,\n     &c.[465:1]\n\n\n(2.)\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n     _Lisle St. Leicester Fields, 19th Sept. 1763._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I live in a place where I have the pleasure of\n     frequently hearing justice done to your Dissertation; but\n     never heard it mentioned in a company where some one person or\n     other did not express his doubts with regard to the\n     authenticity of the poems which are its subject; and I often\n     hear them totally rejected with disdain and indignation, as a\n     palpable and most impudent forgery. This opinion has, indeed,\n     become very prevalent among the men of letters in London; and\n     I can foresee, that in a few years the poems, if they continue\n     to stand on their present footing, will be thrown aside, and\n     will fall into final oblivion. It is in vain to say that their\n     beauty will support them, independent of their authenticity.\n     No; that beauty is not so much to the general taste as to\n     ensure you of this event; and if people be once disgusted with\n     the idea of a forgery, they are thence apt to entertain a more\n     disadvantageous notion of the excellency of the production\n     itself. The absurd pride and caprice of Macpherson himself,\n     who scorns, as he pretends, to satisfy any body that doubts\n     his veracity, has tended much to confirm this general\n     scepticism; and I must own, for my own part, that, though I\n     have had many particular reasons to believe these poems\n     genuine, more than it is possible for any Englishman of\n     letters to have, yet I am not entirely without my scruples on\n     that head. You think that the internal proofs in favour of the\n     poems are very convincing; so they are: but there are also\n     internal reasons against them, particularly from the manners,\n     notwithstanding all the art with which you have endeavoured to\n     throw a varnish on that circumstance; and the preservation of\n     such long and such connected poems by oral tradition alone,\n     during a course of fourteen centuries, is so much out of the\n     ordinary course of human affairs, that it requires the\n     strongest reasons to make us believe it.\n\n     My present purpose, therefore, is to apply to you, in the name\n     of all the men of letters of this, and I may say of all other\n     countries, to establish this capital point, and to give us\n     proof that these poems are, I do not say so ancient as the age\n     of Severus, but that they were not forged within these five\n     years by James Macpherson. These proofs must not be arguments,\n     but testimonies. People's ears are fortified against the\n     former: the latter may yet find their way before the poems are\n     consigned to total oblivion. Now the testimonies may, in my\n     opinion, be of two kinds. Macpherson pretends that there is an\n     ancient manuscript of part of Fingal, in the family, I think,\n     of Clanronald. Get that fact ascertained by more than one\n     person of credit; let these persons be acquainted with the\n     Gaelic; let them compare the original and the translation; and\n     let them testify the fidelity of the latter. But the chief\n     point in which it will be necessary for you to exert yourself,\n     will be to get positive testimony from many different hands,\n     that such poems are vulgarly recited in the Highlands, and\n     have there long been the entertainment of the people. This\n     testimony must be as particular as it is positive. It will not\n     be sufficient that a Highland gentleman or clergyman say or\n     write to you, that he has heard such poems; nobody questions\n     that there are traditional poems in that part of the country,\n     where the names of Ossian and Fingal, and Oscar, and Gaul, are\n     mentioned in every stanza. The only doubt is, whether these\n     poems have any farther resemblance to the poems published by\n     Macpherson. I was told by Bourke, a very ingenious Irish\n     gentleman, the author of a tract on the Sublime and Beautiful,\n     that on the first publication of Macpherson's book, all the\n     Irish cried out, We know all these poems, we have always heard\n     them from our infancy. But when he asked more particular\n     questions, he could never learn that any one had ever heard,\n     or could repeat the original of any one paragraph of the\n     pretended translation. This generality, then, must be\n     carefully guarded against, as being of no authority.\n\n     Your connexions among your brethren of the clergy, may here\n     be of great use to you. You may easily learn the names of all\n     ministers of that country, who understand the language of it;\n     you may write to them, expressing the doubts that have arisen,\n     and desiring them to send for such of the bards as remain, and\n     make them rehearse their ancient poems. Let the clergymen,\n     then, have the translation in their hands, and let them write\n     back to you, and inform you that they heard such a one,\n     (naming him,) living in such a place, rehearse the original of\n     such a passage, from such a page to such a page of the English\n     translation, which appeared exact and faithful. If you give to\n     the public a sufficient number of such testimonies, you may\n     prevail. But I venture to foretel to you that nothing less\n     will serve the purpose; nothing less will so much as command\n     the attention of the public. Becket tells me that he is to\n     give us a new edition of your Dissertation, accompanied with\n     some remarks on Temora; here is a favourable opportunity for\n     you to execute this purpose. You have a just and laudable zeal\n     for the credit of these poems; they are, if genuine, one of\n     the greatest curiosities, in all respects, that ever was\n     discovered in the commonwealth of letters; and the child is,\n     in a manner, become yours by adoption, as Macpherson has\n     totally abandoned all care of it. These motives call upon you\n     to exert yourself; and I think it were suitable to your\n     candour, and most satisfactory also to the reader, to publish\n     all the answers to all the letters you write, even though some\n     of these letters should make somewhat against your own opinion\n     in this affair. We shall always be the more assured that no\n     arguments are strained beyond their proper force, and no\n     contrary arguments suppressed, where such an entire\n     communication is made to us. Becket joins me heartily in this\n     application, and he owns to me, that the believers in the\n     authenticity of the poems diminish every day among the men of\n     sense and reflection. Nothing less than what I propose, can\n     throw the balance on the other side. I depart from hence in\n     about three weeks, and should be glad to hear your resolution\n     before that time.\n\n     This journey to Paris is likely to contribute much to my\n     entertainment, and will certainly tend much to improve my\n     fortune; so that I have no reason to repent that I have\n     allowed myself to be dragged from my retreat. I shall\n     henceforth converse with authors, but shall not probably for\n     some time have much leisure to peruse them; which is not\n     perhaps the way of knowing them most to their advantage. I\n     carried only four books along with me, a Virgil, a Horace, a\n     Tasso, and a Tacitus. I could have wished also to carry my\n     Homer, but I found him too bulky. I own that, in common\n     decency, I ought to have left my Horace behind me, and that I\n     ought to be ashamed to look him in the face. For I am sensible\n     that, at my years, no temptation would have seduced him from\n     his retreat; nor would he ever have been induced to enter so\n     late into the path of ambition.[468:1] But I deny that I enter\n     into the path of ambition; I only walk into the green fields\n     of amusement; and I affirm, that external amusement becomes\n     more and more necessary as one advances in years, and can find\n     less supplies from his own passions or imagination. I am,\n     &c.[468:2]\n\n\n(3.)\n\nDR. BLAIR _to_ HUME.\n\n     _Edinburgh, 29th September, 1763._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I am much obliged to you for the information you\n     have communicated to me, and for the concern you show that\n     justice should be done to our Highland Poems. From what I saw\n     myself when at London, I could easily believe that the\n     disposition of men of letters was rather averse to their\n     reception as genuine; but I trusted that the internal\n     characters of their authenticity, together with the occasional\n     testimonies given to them by Highland gentlemen who are every\n     where scattered, would gradually surmount these prejudices.\n     For my own part, it is impossible for me to entertain the\n     smallest doubt of their being real productions, and ancient\n     ones, too, of the Highlands. Neither Macpherson's parts,\n     though good, nor his industry, were equal to such a forgery.\n     The whole publication, you know, was in its first rise\n     accidental. Macpherson was entreated and dragged into it. Some\n     of the MSS. sent to him passed through my hands. Severals of\n     them he translated, in a manner, under my eye. He gave me\n     these native and genuine accounts of them, which bore plain\n     characters of truth. What he said was often confirmed to me by\n     others. I had testimonies from several Highlanders concerning\n     their authenticity, in words strong and explicit. And, setting\n     all this aside, is it a thing which any man of sense can\n     suppose, that Macpherson would venture to forge such a body of\n     poetry, and give it to the public as ancient poems and songs,\n     well known at this day through all the Highlands of Scotland,\n     when he could have been refuted and exposed by every one of\n     his own countrymen? Is it credible that he could bring so many\n     thousand people into a conspiracy with him to keep his secret?\n     or that some would not be found who, attached to their own\n     ancient songs, would not cry out, \"These are not the poems we\n     deal in. You have forged characters and sentiments we know\n     nothing about; you have modernized and dressed us up: we have\n     much better songs and poems of our own.\" Who but John Bull\n     could entertain the belief of an imposture so incredible as\n     this? The utmost I should think any rational scepticism could\n     suppose is this, that Macpherson might have sometimes\n     interpolated, or endeavoured to improve, by some corrections\n     of his own. Of this I am verily persuaded there was very\n     little, if any at all. Had it prevailed, we would have been\n     able to trace more marks of inconsistency, and a different\n     hand and style; whereas, these poems are more remarkable for\n     nothing than an entire, and supported, and uniform consistency\n     of character and manner through the whole.\n\n     However, seeing we have to do with such incredulous people, I\n     think it were a pity not to do justice to such valuable\n     monuments of genius. I have already, therefore, entered upon\n     the task you prescribe me, though I foresee it may give me\n     some trouble. I have writ by last post to Sir James Macdonald,\n     who is fortunately at this time in the Isle of Skye. I have\n     also, through the Laird of Macleod, writ to Clanronald, and\n     likewise to two clergymen in the Isle of Skye, men of letters\n     and character; one of them, Macpherson minister of Sleat, the\n     author of a very learned work about to be published concerning\n     the Antiquities of Scotland. Several others in Argyleshire,\n     the Islands, and other poetical regions, worthy clergymen, who\n     are well versed in the Gaelic, I intend also without delay to\n     make application to.\n\n     My requisition to them all is for such positive and express\n     testimonies as you desire; MSS. if they have any, compared\n     before witnesses with the printed book, and recitations of\n     bards compared in the same manner. I have given them express\n     directions in what manner to proceed, so as to avoid that\n     loose generality which, as you observe, can signify nothing.\n     What use it may be proper to put these testimonies to, I can\n     only judge after having got all my materials. I apprehend\n     there may be some difficulty in obtaining the consent of those\n     concerned to publish their letters, nor might it be proper.\n     But concerning this, I may afterwards advise with you and my\n     other friends.\n\n     In the meantime, you may please acquaint Mr. Becket, that this\n     must retard for some time the publication of his new edition\n     with my Dissertation; as the least I can allow for the return\n     of letters from such distant parts, where the communication by\n     post is irregular and slow, together with the time necessary\n     for their executing what is desired, will be three months,\n     perhaps some more; and, assuredly, any new evidence we can\n     give the world, must accompany my Dissertation.\n\n     I am in some difficulty with Macpherson himself in this\n     affair. Capricious as he is, I would not willingly hurt or\n     disoblige him; and yet I apprehend that such an inquiry as\n     this, which is like tracing him out, and supposing his\n     veracity called in question, will not please him. I must write\n     him by next post, and endeavour to put the affair in such a\n     light as to soften him; which you, if you see him, may do\n     likewise, and show him the necessity of something of this kind\n     being done; and with more propriety, perhaps, by another than\n     himself.[470:1]\n\n\n(4.)\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n     _6th October, 1763._\n\nMY DEAR SIR,--I am very glad you have undertaken the task which I used\nthe freedom to recommend to you. Nothing less than what you propose will\nserve the purpose. You need expect no assistance from Macpherson, who\nflew into a passion when I told him of the letter I had wrote to you.\nBut you must not mind so strange and heteroclite a mortal, than whom I\nhave scarce ever known a man more perverse and unamiable. He will\nprobably depart for Florida with governor Johnstone, and I would advise\nhim to travel among the Chickisaws or Cherokees, in order to tame him\nand civilize him.\n\n     I should be much pleased to hear of the success of your\n     labours. Your method of directing to me is under cover to the\n     Earl of Hertford, Northumberland House; any letters that come\n     to me under that direction, will be sent over to me at Paris.\n\n     I beg my compliments to Robertson and Jardine. I am very sorry\n     to hear of the state of Ferguson's health. John Hume went to\n     the country yesterday with Lord Bute. I was introduced the\n     other day to that noble lord, at his desire. I believe him a\n     very good man, a better man than a politician.\n\n     Since writing the above, I have been in company with Mrs.\n     Montague, a lady of great distinction in this place, and a\n     zealous partisan of Ossian. I told her of your intention, and\n     even used the freedom to read your letter to her. She was\n     extremely pleased with your project; and the rather as the Duc\n     de Nivernois, she said, had talked to her much on that subject\n     last winter, and desired, if possible, to get collected some\n     proofs of the authenticity of these poems, which he proposed\n     to lay before the Acad\u00e9mie des Belles Lettres at Paris. You\n     see, then, that you are upon a great stage in this inquiry,\n     and that many people have their eyes upon you. This is a new\n     motive for rendering your proofs as complete as possible. I\n     cannot conceive any objection, which a man, even of the\n     gravest character, could have to your publication of his\n     letters, which will only attest a plain fact known to him.\n     Such scruples, if they occur, you must endeavour to remove.\n     For on this trial of yours will the judgment of the public\n     finally depend.\n\n     Lord Bath, who was in the company, agreed with me, that such\n     documents of authenticity are entirely necessary and\n     indispensable.\n\n     Please to write to me as soon as you make any advances, that I\n     may have something to say on the subject to the literati of\n     Paris. I beg my compliments to all those who bear that\n     character at Edinburgh. I cannot but look upon all of them as\n     my friends. I am, &c.[471:1]\n\n\nII.\n\nESSAY ON THE GENUINENESS OF THE POEMS.[471:2]\n\n     I think the fate of this production the most curious effect of\n     prejudice, where superstition had no share, that ever was in\n     the world. A tiresome, insipid performance; which, if it had\n     been presented in its real form, as the work of a\n     contemporary, an obscure Highlander, no man could ever have\n     had the patience to have once perused, has, by passing for the\n     poetry of a royal bard, who flourished fifteen centuries ago,\n     been universally read, has been pretty generally admired, and\n     has been translated, in prose and verse, into several\n     languages of Europe. Even the style of the supposed English\n     translation has been admired, though harsh and absurd in the\n     highest degree; jumping perpetually from verse to prose, and\n     from prose to verse; and running, most of it, in the light\n     cadence and measure of Molly Mog. Such is the Erse epic, which\n     has been puffed with a zeal and enthusiasm that has drawn a\n     ridicule on my countrymen.\n\n     But, to cut off at once the whole source of its reputation, I\n     shall collect a few very obvious arguments against the notion\n     of its great antiquity, with which so many people have been\n     intoxicated, and which alone made it worthy of any attention.\n\n     (1.) The very manner in which it was presented to the public\n     forms a strong presumption against its authenticity. The\n     pretended translator goes on a mission to the Highlands to\n     recover and collect a work, which, he affirmed, was dispersed,\n     in fragments, among the natives. He returns, and gives a\n     quarto volume, and then another quarto, with the same\n     unsupported assurance as if it were a translation of the\n     Orlando Furioso, or Lousiade, or any poem the best known in\n     Europe. It might have been expected, at least, that he would\n     have told the public, and the subscribers to his mission, and\n     the purchasers of his book, _This part I got from such a\n     person, in such a place; that other part, from such another\n     person. I was enabled to correct my first copy of such a\n     passage by the recital of such another person; a fourth\n     supplied such a defect in my first copy_. By such a history of\n     his gradual discoveries he would have given some face of\n     probability to them. Any man of common sense, who was in\n     earnest, must, in this case, have seen the peculiar necessity\n     of that precaution, any man that had regard to his own\n     character, would have anxiously followed that obvious and easy\n     method. All the friends of the pretended translator exhorted\n     and entreated him to give them and the public that\n     satisfaction. No! those who could doubt his veracity were\n     fools, whom it was not worth while to satisfy. The most\n     incredible of all facts was to be taken on his word, whom\n     nobody knew; and an experiment was to be made, I suppose in\n     jest, how far the credulity of the public would give way to\n     assurance and dogmatical affirmation.\n\n     (2.) But, to show the utter incredibility of the fact, let\n     these following considerations be weighed, or, rather, simply\n     reflected on; for it seems ridiculous to weigh them. Consider\n     the size of these poems. What is given us is asserted to be\n     only a part of a much greater collection; yet even these\n     pieces amount to two quartos. And they were composed, you say,\n     in the Highlands, about fifteen centuries ago; and have been\n     faithfully transmitted, ever since, by oral tradition, through\n     ages totally ignorant of letters, by the rudest, perhaps, of\n     all the European nations; the most necessitous, the most\n     turbulent, the most ferocious, and the most unsettled. Did\n     ever any event happen that approached within a hundred degrees\n     of this mighty wonder, even to the nations the most fortunate\n     in their climate and situation? Can a ballad be shown that has\n     passed, uncorrupted, by oral tradition, through three\n     generations, among the Greeks, or Italians, or Phoenicians,\n     or Egyptians, or even among the natives of such countries as\n     Otaheite or Molacca, who seem exempted by nature from all\n     attention but to amusement, to poetry, and music?\n\n     But the Celtic nations, it is said, had peculiar advantages\n     for preserving their traditional poetry. The Irish, the Welsh,\n     the Bretons, are all Celtic nations, much better entitled than\n     the Highlanders, from their soil, and climate, and situation,\n     to have leisure for these amusements. They, accordingly,\n     present us not with complete epic and historical poems, (for\n     they never had the assurance to go that length,) but with very\n     copious and circumstantial traditions, which are allowed, by\n     all men of sense, to be scandalous and ridiculous impostures.\n\n     (3.) The style and genius of these pretended poems are another\n     sufficient proof of the imposition. The Lapland and Runic\n     odes, conveyed to us, besides their small compass, have a\n     savage rudeness, and sometimes grandeur, suited to those ages.\n     But this Erse poetry has an insipid correctness, and\n     regularity, and uniformity, which betrays a man without\n     genius, that has been acquainted with the productions of\n     civilized nations, and had his imagination so limited to that\n     tract, that it was impossible for him even to mimic the\n     character which he pretended to assume.\n\n     The manners are still a more striking proof of their want of\n     authenticity. We see nothing but the affected generosity and\n     gallantry of chivalry, which are quite unknown, not only to\n     all savage people, but to every nation not trained in these\n     artificial modes of thinking. In Homer, for instance, and\n     Virgil, and Ariosto, the heroes are represented as making a\n     nocturnal incursion into the camp of the enemy. Homer and\n     Virgil, who certainly were educated in much more civilized\n     ages than those of Ossian, make no scruple of representing\n     their heroes as committing undistinguished slaughter on the\n     sleeping foe. But Orlando walks quietly through the camp of\n     the Saracens, and scorns to kill even an infidel who cannot\n     defend himself. Gaul and Oscar are knight-errants, still more\n     romantic: they make a noise in the midst of the enemy's camp,\n     that they may waken them, and thereby have a right to fight\n     with them and to kill them. Nay, Fingal carries his ideas of\n     chivalry still farther; much beyond what was ever dreamt of by\n     Amadis de Gaul or Lancelot de Lake. When his territory is\n     invaded, he scorns to repel the enemy with his whole force: he\n     sends only an equal number against them, under an inferior\n     captain: when these are repulsed, he sends a second\n     detachment; and it is not till after a double defeat, that he\n     deigns himself to descend from the hill, where he had\n     remained, all the while, an idle spectator, and to attack the\n     enemy. Fingal and Swaran combat each other all day, with the\n     greatest fury. When darkness suspends the fight, they feast\n     together with the greatest amity, and then renew the combat\n     with the return of light. Are these the manners of barbarous\n     nations, or even of people that have common sense? We may\n     remark, that all this narrative is supposed to be given us by\n     a contemporary poet. The facts, therefore, must be supposed\n     entirely, or nearly, conformable to truth. The gallantry and\n     extreme delicacy towards the women, which is found in these\n     productions, is, if possible, still more contrary to the\n     manners of barbarians. Among all rude nations, force and\n     courage are the predominant virtues; and the inferiority of\n     the females, in these particulars, renders them an object of\n     contempt, not of deference and regard.\n\n     (4.) But I derive a new argument against the antiquity of\n     these poems, from the general tenor of the narrative. Where\n     manners are represented in them, probability, or even\n     possibility, are totally disregarded: but in all other\n     respects, the events are within the course of nature; no\n     giants, no monsters, no magic, no incredible feats of strength\n     or activity. Every transaction is conformable to familiar\n     experience, and scarcely even deserves the name of wonderful.\n     Did this ever happen in ancient and barbarous poetry? Why is\n     this characteristic wanting, so essential to rude and ignorant\n     ages? Ossian, you say, was singing the exploits of his\n     contemporaries, and therefore could not falsify them in any\n     great degree. But if this had been a restraint, your pretended\n     Ossian had never sung the exploits of his contemporaries; he\n     had gone back a generation or two, which would have been\n     sufficient to throw an entire obscurity on the events; and he\n     would thereby have attained the marvellous, which is alone\n     striking to barbarians. I desire it may be observed, that\n     manners are the only circumstances which a rude people cannot\n     falsify; because they have no notion of any manners beside\n     their own: but it is easy for them to let loose their\n     imagination, and violate the course of nature, in every other\n     particular; and indeed they take no pleasure in any other kind\n     of narrative. In Ossian, nature is violated, where alone she\n     ought to have been preserved; is preserved where alone she\n     ought to have been violated.\n\n     (5.) But there is another species of the marvellous, wanting\n     in Ossian, which is inseparable from all nations, civilized as\n     well as barbarous, but still more, if possible, from the\n     barbarous, and that is religion; no religious sentiment in\n     this Erse poetry. All those Celtic heroes are more complete\n     atheists than ever were bred in the school of Epicurus. To\n     account for this singularity, we are told that a few\n     generations before Ossian, the people quarrelled with their\n     Druidical priests, and having expelled them, never afterwards\n     adopted any other species of religion. It is not quite\n     unnatural, I own, for the people to quarrel with their\n     priests,--as we did with ours at the Reformation; but we\n     attached ourselves with fresh zeal to our new preachers and\n     new system; and this passion increased in proportion to our\n     hatred of the old. But I suppose the reason of this strange\n     absurdity in our new Erse poetry, is, that the author, finding\n     by the assumed age of his heroes, that he must have given them\n     the Druidical religion, and not trusting to his literature,\n     (which seems indeed to be very slender) for making the\n     representations consistent with antiquity, thought it safest\n     to give them no religion at all; a circumstance so wonderfully\n     unnatural, that it is sufficient alone, if men had eyes, to\n     detect the imposition.\n\n     (6.) The state of the arts, as represented in those poems, is\n     totally incompatible with the age assigned to them. We know,\n     that the houses even of the Southern Britons, till conquered\n     by the Romans, were nothing but huts erected in the woods; but\n     a stately stone building is mentioned by Ossian, of which the\n     walls remain, after it is consumed with fire. The melancholy\n     circumstance of a fox is described, who looks out at the\n     windows; an image, if I be not mistaken, borrowed from the\n     Scriptures. The Caledonians, as well as the Irish, had no\n     shipping but currachs, or wicker boats covered with hides: yet\n     are they represented as passing, in great military\n     expeditions, from the Hebrides to Denmark, Norway, and Sweden;\n     a most glaring absurdity. They live entirely by hunting, yet\n     muster armies, which make incursions to these countries as\n     well as to Ireland: though it is certain from the experience\n     of America, that the whole Highlands would scarce subsist a\n     hundred persons by hunting. They are totally unacquainted with\n     fishing; though that occupation first tempts all rude nations\n     to venture on the sea. Ossian alludes to a wind or water-mill,\n     a machine then unknown to the Greeks and Romans, according to\n     the opinion of the best antiquaries. His barbarians, though\n     ignorant of tillage, are well acquainted with the method of\n     working all kinds of metals. The harp is the musical\n     instrument of Ossian; but the bagpipe, from time immemorial,\n     has been the instrument of the Highlanders. If ever the harp\n     had been known among them, it never had given place to the\n     other barbarous discord.\n\n          Stridenti miserum stipula disperdere carmen.\n\n     (7.) All the historical facts of this poem are opposed by\n     traditions, which, if all these tales be not equally\n     contemptible, seem to merit much more attention. The Irish\n     Scoti are the undoubted ancestors of the present Highlanders,\n     who are but a small colony of that ancient people. But the\n     Irish traditions make Fingal, Ossian, Oscar, all Irishmen, and\n     place them some centuries distant from the Erse heroes. They\n     represent them as giants, and monsters, and enchanters, a sure\n     mark of a considerable antiquity of these traditions. I ask\n     the partisans of Erse poetry, since the names of these heroes\n     have crept over to Ireland, and have become quite familiar to\n     the natives of that country, how it happens, that not a line\n     of this poetry, in which they are all celebrated, which, it is\n     pretended, alone preserves their memory with our Highlanders,\n     and which is composed by one of these heroes themselves in the\n     Irish language, ever found its way thither? The songs and\n     traditions of the Senachies, the genuine poetry of the Irish,\n     carry in their rudeness and absurdity the inseparable\n     attendants of barbarism, a very different aspect from the\n     insipid correctness of Ossian; where the incidents, if you\n     will pardon the antithesis, are the most unnatural, merely\n     because they are natural. The same observation extends to the\n     Welsh, another Celtic nation.\n\n     (8.) The fiction of these poems is, if possible, still more\n     palpably detected, by the great numbers of other traditions,\n     which, the author pretends, are still fresh in the Highlands,\n     with regard to all the personages. The poems, composed in the\n     age of Truthil and Cormac, ancestors of Ossian, are, he says,\n     full of complaints against the roguery and tyranny of the\n     Druids. He talks as familiarly of the poetry of that period as\n     Lucian or Longinus would of the Greek poetry of the Socratic\n     age. I suppose here is a new rich mine of poetry ready to\n     break out upon us, if the author thinks it can turn to\n     account. For probably he does not mind the danger of\n     detection, which he has little reason to apprehend from his\n     experience of the public credulity. But I shall venture to\n     assert, without any reserve or further inquiry, that there is\n     no Highlander who is not, in some degree, a man of letters,\n     that ever so much as heard there was a Druid in the world. The\n     margin of every page almost of this wonderful production is\n     supported, as he pretends, by minute oral traditions with\n     regard to the personages. To the poem of Dar-thula, there is\n     prefixed a long account of the pedigree, marriages, and\n     adventures of three brothers, Nathos, Althos, and Ardan,\n     heroes that lived fifteen hundred years ago in Argyleshire,\n     and whose memory, it seems, is still celebrated there, and in\n     every part of the Highlands. How ridiculous to advance such a\n     pretension to the learned, who know that there is no tradition\n     of Alexander the great all over the East; that the Turks, who\n     have heard of him from their communication with the Greeks,\n     believe him to have been the captain of Solomon's guard; that\n     the Greek and Roman story, the moment it departs from the\n     historical ages, becomes a heap of fiction and absurdity; that\n     Cyrus himself, the conqueror of the East, became so much\n     unknown, even in little more than half a century, that\n     Herodotus himself, born and bred in Asia, within the limits of\n     the Persian empire, could tell nothing of him, more than of\n     Croesus, the contemporary of Cyrus, and who reigned in the\n     neighbourhood of the historian, but the most ridiculous\n     fables; and that the grandfather of Hengist and Horsa, the\n     first Saxon conquerors, was conceived to be a divinity. I\n     suppose it is sufficiently evident, that without the help of\n     books and history, the very name of Julius C\u00e6sar would at\n     present be totally unknown in Europe. A gentleman, who\n     travelled into Italy, told me, that in visiting Frescati or\n     Tusculum, his cicerone showed him the foundation and ruins of\n     Cicero's country house. He asked the fellow who this Cicero\n     might be, \"Un grandissimo gigante,\" said he.\n\n     (9.) I ask, since the memory of Fingal and his ancestors and\n     descendants is still so fresh in the Highlands, how it\n     happens, that none of the compilers of the Scotch fabulous\n     history ever laid hold of them, and inserted them in the list\n     of our ancient monarchs, but were obliged to have recourse to\n     direct fiction and lying to make out their genealogies? It is\n     to be remarked, that the Highlanders, who are now but an\n     inferior part of the nation, anciently composed the whole; so\n     that no tradition of theirs could be unknown to the court, the\n     nobility, and the whole kingdom. Where, then, have these\n     wonderful traditions skulked during so many centuries, that\n     they have never come to light till yesterday? And the very\n     names of our ancient kings are unknown; though it is\n     pretended, that a very particular narrative of their\n     transactions was still preserved, and universally diffused\n     among a numerous tribe, who are the original stem of the\n     nation. Father Innes, the only judicious writer that ever\n     touched our ancient history, finds in monastic records the\n     names, and little more than the names, of kings from Fergus,\n     whom we call Fergus the Second, who lived long after the\n     supposed Fingal: and he thence begins the true history of the\n     nation. He had too good sense to give any attention to\n     pretended traditions even of kings, much less would he have\n     believed that the memory and adventures of every leader of\n     banditti in every valley of the Highlands, could be\n     circumstantially preserved by oral tradition through more than\n     fifteen centuries.\n\n     (10.) I shall observe, that the character of the author, from\n     all his publications, (for I shall mention nothing else,)\n     gives us the greatest reason to suspect him of such a\n     ludicrous imposition on the public. For to be sure it is only\n     ludicrous; or at most a trial of wit, like that of the\n     sophist, who gave us Phalaris' Epistles, or of him that\n     counterfeited Cicero's Consolation, or supplied the fragments\n     of Petronius. These literary amusements have been very common;\n     and unless supported by too violent asseverations, or\n     persisted in too long, never drew the opprobrious appellation\n     of impostor on the author.\n\n     He writes an ancient history of Britain, which is plainly\n     ludicrous. He gives us a long circumstantial history of the\n     emigrations of the Belgae, Cimbri, and Sarmatae, so\n     unsupported by any author of antiquity that nothing but a\n     particular revelation could warrant it; and yet it is\n     delivered with such seeming confidence, (for we must not think\n     he was in earnest,) that the history of the Punic wars is not\n     related with greater seriousness by Livy. He has even left\n     palpable contradictions in his narrative, in order to try the\n     faith of his reader. He tells us, for instance, that the\n     present inhabitants of Germany have no more connexion with the\n     Germans mentioned by Tacitus, than with the ancient\n     inhabitants of Peloponnesus: the Saxons and Angles, in\n     particular, were all Sarmatians, a quite different tribe from\n     the Germans, in manners, laws, language, and customs. Yet a\n     few pages after, when he pretends to deliver the origin of the\n     Anglo-Saxon constitution, he professedly derives the whole\n     account from Tacitus. All this was only an experiment to see\n     how far the force of affirmation could impose on the credulity\n     of the public: but it did not succeed; he was here in the open\n     daylight of Greek and Roman erudition, not in the obscurity of\n     his Erse poetry and traditions. Finding the style of his\n     Ossian admired by some, he attempts a translation of Homer in\n     the very same style. He begins and finishes, in six weeks, a\n     work that was for ever to eclipse the translation of Pope,\n     whom he does not even deign to mention in his preface; but\n     this joke was still more unsuccessful: he made a shift,\n     however, to bring the work to a second edition, where he says,\n     that, notwithstanding all the envy of his malignant opponents,\n     his name alone will preserve the work to a more equitable\n     posterity!\n\n     In short, let him now take off the mask, and fairly and openly\n     laugh at the credulity of the public, who could believe that\n     long Erse epics had been secretly preserved in the Highlands\n     of Scotland, from the age of Severus till his time.\n\n     The imposition is so gross, that he may well ask the world how\n     they could ever possibly believe him to be in earnest?\n\n     But it may reasonably be expected that I should mention the\n     external positive evidence, which is brought by Dr. Blair to\n     support the authenticity of these poems. I own, that this\n     evidence, considered in itself, is very respectable, and\n     sufficient to support any fact, that both lies within the\n     bounds of credibility, and has not become a matter of party.\n     But will any man pretend to bring human testimony to prove,\n     that above twenty thousand verses have been transmitted, by\n     tradition and memory, during more than fifteen hundred years;\n     that is, above fifty generations, according to the ordinary\n     course of nature? verses, too, which have not, in their\n     subject, any thing alluring or inviting to the people, no\n     miracle, no wonders, no superstitions, no useful instruction;\n     a people, too, who, during twelve centuries, at least, of that\n     period, had no writing, no alphabet; and who, even in the\n     other three centuries, made very little use of that imperfect\n     alphabet for any purpose; a people who, from the miserable\n     disadvantages of their soil and climate, were perpetually\n     struggling with the greatest necessities of nature; who, from\n     the imperfections of government, lived in a continual state of\n     internal hostility; ever harassed with the incursions of\n     neighbouring tribes, or meditating revenge and retaliation on\n     their neighbours. Have such a people leisure to think of any\n     poetry, except, perhaps, a miserable song or ballad, in praise\n     of their own chieftain, or to the disparagement of his rivals?\n\n     I should be sorry to be suspected of saying any thing against\n     the manners of the present Highlanders. I really believe that,\n     besides their signal bravery, there is not any people in\n     Europe, not even excepting the Swiss, who have more plain\n     honesty and fidelity, are more capable of gratitude and\n     attachment, than that race of men. Yet it was, no doubt, a\n     great surprise to them to hear that, over and above their\n     known good qualities, they were also possessed of an\n     excellence which they never dreamt of, an elegant taste in\n     poetry, and inherited from the most remote antiquity the\n     finest compositions of that kind, far surpassing the popular\n     traditional poems of any other language; no wonder they\n     crowded to give testimony in favour of their authenticity.\n     Most of them, no doubt, were sincere in the delusion; the same\n     names that were to be found in their popular ballads were\n     carefully preserved in the new publication; some incidents,\n     too, were perhaps transferred from the one to the other; some\n     sentiments also might be copied; and, on the whole, they were\n     willing to believe, and still more willing to persuade others,\n     that the whole was genuine. On such occasions, the greatest\n     cloud of witnesses makes no manner of evidence. What Jansenist\n     was there in Paris, which contains several thousands, that\n     would not have given evidence for the miracles of Abb\u00e9 Paris?\n     The miracle is greater, but not the evidence, with regard to\n     the authenticity of Ossian.\n\n     The late President Forbes was a great believer in the second\n     sight; and I make no question but he could, on a month's\n     warning, have overpowered you with evidence in its favour. But\n     as finite added to finite never approaches a hair's breadth\n     nearer to infinite; so a fact incredible in itself, acquires\n     not the smallest accession of probability by the accumulation\n     of testimony.\n\n     The only real wonder in the whole affair is, that a person of\n     so fine a taste as Dr. Blair, should be so great an admirer of\n     these productions; and one of so clear and cool a judgment\n     collect evidence of their authenticity.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[465:1] _European Magazine_, May, 1784, p. 327.\n\n[468:1] See this observation commented on by Blair, in vol. ii. p. 167.\n\n[468:2] Laing's History, iv. 496. Report of the Highland Society on\nOssian's Poems.\n\n[470:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[471:1] Laing's History, iv. 500. Report of the Highland Society.\n\n[471:2] See this referred to in Vol. II., p. 85.\n\n\n     END OF VOL. I.\n\n\n     EDINBURGH\n\n     Printed by WILLIAM TAIT, 107, Prince's Street.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\n  Abercrombie--General James, i. 212, 222, 311.\n\n  Abingdon--Lord, ii. 185.\n\n  Adam--John, architect, ii. 174, 187, 195, 286.\n\n  ----, William--Lord Chief Commissioner, ii. 174.\n    His notices of Hume, 439.\n\n  ----, Mrs., ii. 174, 286.\n\n  Advocates' Library.\n    Hume as librarian, i. 367.\n    Its extent, 373.\n    French works removed from, as improper, 395.\n    Hume resigns librarianship of, ii. 18.\n\n  Aiguillon--Duchesse de, ii. 175.\n\n  Albemarle--Lord, i. 245-246.\n\n  Alembert--D', i. 94; ii. 181.\n    Hume's friendship with, 218, 270, 323, 345, 348, 350, 354, 355, 377,\n        489.\n\n  Allen--Dr., his inquiry into the rise and progress of the royal\n      prerogative, ii. 122.\n\n  Amelia--The Princess, ii. 292.\n\n  Ancient Nations--Essay on the populousness of, i. 363.\n\n  Anderson--Revd. George, i. 425.\n    His writings against Hume and Lord Kames, 428.\n    His death, 432.\n\n  Anderson--Dr. Walter, i. 424.\n\n  Annandale--Marquis of.\n    His invitation to Hume, i. 170.\n    His mental condition, 172.\n    Hume's residence with, 170, _et seq._\n\n  ----, Marchioness-Dowager of, i. 185.\n    Letter to, 203.\n\n  Anson--Madame, ii. 236.\n\n  Anstruther--General, i. 383.\n\n  Antiquaries.\n    Their use to the historian, ii. 122-123.\n\n  Antiquity, the populousness of.\n    Dissertation on, i. 326.\n\n  Aquinas--His theory of association, i. 286.\n    Its alleged similarity to Hume's, 287.\n\n  Argyle--Duke of, ii. 55.\n\n  Armstrong--Dr., ii. 64, 148.\n\n  Arnauld--Antony, i. 432.\n\n  Artois--Comte d', ii. 178.\n\n  Assembly--General.\n    Its proceedings against Hume, i. 429.\n    Overture to, regarding him, 430.\n\n  Association--Hume's theory of, i. 286.\n\n  Aylesbury--Lady, ii. 305, 385.\n\n\n  Bacon--Lord, ii. 67.\n\n  Balance of trade--Hume's opinions on, i. 358.\n\n  Balcarras--Earl of, letter to, i. 412.\n    His appearance, 413.\n\n  Balfour--James of Pilrig, i. 160, 345; ii. 192, 414, 415.\n\n  Bank--Cash credit in.\n    Its nature, i. 359.\n\n  Banking--Hume's remarks on, i. 359.\n\n  Barbantane--Marquise de, ii. 280, 309, 322, 360.\n\n  Barr\u00e9--Colonel, ii. 150, 289.\n\n  Bastide--M., ii. 236, 241.\n\n  Bath--Hume's visit to, ii. 495, _et seq._\n\n  Bayard--The Chevalier, ii. 441.\n\n  Beauchamp--Lord, ii. 161, 162, 171, 183, 204, 245, 268, 287.\n\n  Beauvais--Princess, ii. 497.\n\n  Beauveau--Madame de, ii. 206.\n\n  Beccaria, i. 121.\n\n  Bedford--Duke of, ii. 279, 280, 285, 290.\n\n  ----, Duchess of, ii. 279.\n\n  Bellman's Petition, i. 315, 317.\n\n  Belot--Madame, her translation of Hume's works, ii. 176.\n\n  Bentham, i. 121, 384.\n\n  Berri--Duc de, ii. 178.\n\n  Bertrand--Professor, ii. 187.\n\n  Betham--Mr. and Mrs., i. 411.\n\n  Birch--Dr., i. 416, 436; ii. 82.\n\n  Black--Joseph.\n    Letters from, ii. 488, 514-515.\n\n  Blacklock--Thomas, i. 385.\n    Hume's first acquaintance with, 388.\n    His ideas of light and colours, 389.\n    Account of his early life, 390.\n    Publication of his poems, 392.\n    Miscellaneous notices of, 393, 398; ii. 164, 454.\n    Letters from, 399.\n\n  Blacklock--Mrs., ii. 401.\n\n  Blackwell--Hume's criticism on his Court of Augustus, i. 434.\n\n  Blair--Dr., i. 427; ii. 86, 115, 117, 139, 153, 167, 175, 192, 198.\n    Letters to, 180, 181, 193, 229, 265, 267, 286, 288, 297, 310, 312,\n        318, 344, 365, 371, 386, 395, 421, 472.\n\n  ----, Robert, President of the Court of Session, ii. 423.\n\n  Blanc--Abb\u00e9 le, i. 365.\n    His translations from Hume, 366.\n    Letter to, 406, 409; ii. 347.\n\n  Bologna--University of, i. 151.\n\n  Bon--Abb\u00e9 le, his death, ii. 428.\n\n  Bonne--Hume's account of, i. 249.\n\n  Boswell--James, received Johnson in Hume's house, ii. 138, 139, 307,\n      441.\n\n  Boufflers--Madame de, ii. 72.\n    Account of, 90.\n    Her letters to Hume, 94, 99, 106, 110.\n    Letters to, 114, 205, 246, 247.\n    Notice of, 251, 279, 280, 298, 303, 323, 330, 346, 352, 353, 429.\n    Last letter to, 513.\n\n  Bourg\u00e9s--University of, i. 151.\n\n  Bower--Archibald, ii. 58.\n\n  Boyle--The Honourable Mr., i. 293.\n\n  Brand--Mr., ii. 225.\n\n  Breda--Hume's account of, i. 244.\n\n  Brest, ii. 63.\n\n  Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse, ii. 283, 497.\n\n  Bristol--Lord, ii. 407.\n\n  Brodie--George, ii. 66.\n\n  Brougham--Lord, ii. 348.\n    His opinion of Hume's Political Discourses, i. 354.\n\n  Brown--Dr. John, ii. 23.\n\n  Browne--Sir Thomas, i. 94.\n\n  Bruce--Professor, ii. 192.\n\n  Bruy\u00e9re--La, i. 148.\n\n  Buccleuch--Duke of, ii. 58, 227, 467.\n\n  Buchan--Lord, ii. 455.\n\n  Buckingham--Mrs., ii. 186.\n\n  Buffon--M. de, ii. 181, 299.\n\n  Bunbury--Mr. afterwards Sir Charles, ii. 159, 164, 189, 239, 277, 280.\n\n  ----, Lady Sarah, ii. 239.\n\n  Burke--Edmund, i. 351, 353; ii. 59, 333, 449.\n\n  Burnet--James, Lord Monboddo, i. 394; ii. 204, 231.\n\n  Bute--Lord, ii. 34, 149, 159, 162, 163, 187, 258, 265, 282, 290, 334,\n      407; ii. 418.\n\n  Butler--Samuel, ii. 90.\n\n  ----, Bishop, i. 64, 143.\n\n\n  Caldwell--Sir James, i. 260.\n\n  Calton Hill--Hume's monument on, ii. 518.\n\n  Campbell--Dr. George, ii. 115, 116.\n    Letter to, 118.\n    Letter from, 119.\n    Notice of, 154.\n\n  Carlyle--Dr., ii. 88, 164, 266, 472.\n\n  Carraccioli, ii. 53.\n\n  Carre--George, of Nisbet, i. 115.\n\n  Cause and Effect--Hume's views of, i. 79.\n    Their effect on Kant, ib.\n\n  Causes--unseen, aptly illustrated by Hume, i. 83.\n\n  Charles Edward--his insurrection, i. 175.\n    Anecdotes of, ii. 462.\n\n  Charlemont--Lord.\n    Description and anecdotes of Hume by, i. 270, 394; ii. 116, 223.\n\n  Chatham--Lord, ii. 396, 406, 418.\n    Hume's dislike to, ii. 420, 422.\n\n  Chaulieu, 510.\n\n  Chesterfield--Lord, ii. 131, 160.\n\n  Cheyne--Dr. George, i. 42.\n    His work, \"The English Malady,\" i. 43.\n\n  Chivalry--Essay on, i. 18-25.\n\n  Choiseul--Duc de, ii. 228, 500.\n\n  ----, Duchesse de, her civilities to Hume, ii. 169.\n\n  Choquart--Abb\u00e9, ii. 242, 261, 262, 271, 273.\n\n  Christianity--cannot be injured by theories purely metaphysical, i.\n      86, 88.\n\n  Church--Catholic.\n    Hume's treatment of, ii. 5.\n\n  ----, Scottish Episcopal.\n    Its condition in Hume's time, ii. 6.\n\n  ----, English.\n    Hume's sympathies with, ii. 9.\n\n  Churchill--Charles, ii. 148.\n\n  Chute--Mr., ii. 225.\n\n  Cicero--Orations of.\n    Essay on, i. 144, 145.\n\n  Clagenfurt in Carinthia.\n    Hume's account of, i. 264.\n\n  Clairaut--M., ii. 295.\n\n  Clarendon--as a historian, i. 404.\n\n  Clark--General, ii. 172, 195.\n\n  Clarke--Dr. Staniers, ii. 179.\n\n  Cleghorn--William.\n    Appointed Professor of Moral Philosophy, i. 170.\n\n  Clephane--Dr.\n    Letters to, i. 314, 376, 379, 381, 384, 397, 408, 433; ii. 38, 443.\n\n  Clow--Mr., Professor of logic in the University of Glasgow, i. 351;\n      ii. 199.\n\n  Club--The Poker.\n    Its proceedings, ii. 456.\n\n  Coblentz--Hume's account of, i. 249.\n\n  Cockburn--Mrs.\n    Letter from, ii. 230, 424, 449.\n\n  Coke--Sir Edward, ii. 69.\n\n  Colebroke--Sir George, ii. 460, 467.\n\n  Coleridge--His charge against Hume, i. 286.\n    How disproved, 287.\n\n  Cologne--Hume's account of, i. 248.\n\n  Cond\u00e9--Prince of, ii. 92.\n\n  Constitutional theories--Hume's, ii. 65, 67, 73.\n\n  Conti--Prince of, ii. 90, 221, 246, 297, 307.\n\n  ----, Princess of, ii. 245.\n\n  Conway--Marshal, ii. 156-157, 283, 284, 305, 307, 324, 326, 351, 365,\n      371, 374.\n\n  ----, Appoints Hume under-secretary, ii. 382, 396, 407.\n\n  Corby castle, i. 226.\n\n  Corneille, ii. 196.\n\n  Coutts--Provost, i. 165.\n\n  ----, Thomas, ii. 476.\n\n  ----, James, ii. 476.\n\n  Cowley, ii. 90.\n\n  Craigie--Professor, i. 350.\n\n  Crawford--James, i. 233; ii. 149, 500.\n\n  Cr\u00e9billon--His \"L'Ecumoire,\" i. 395; ii. 428.\n\n  Crowle--Anecdote regarding, i. 306.\n\n  Cudworth, i. 94.\n\n  Cullen--Dr.\n    Letter to, i. 350, 418.\n    Notice of, 411; ii, 199.\n    Letters from, ii. 488, 489, 515.\n\n  Currency--Hume's views on, ii. 426.\n\n\n  D'Angiviller--M., ii. 216.\n\n  Dalrymple--Sir David, i. 395; ii. 415, 416.\n\n  ----, Sir John, ii. 37, 467.\n\n  Dauphin of France--His attentions to Hume, ii. 177-178.\n    Notice of, 286.\n\n  Davenport--Richard, ii. 313.\n    Gives Rousseau a retreat at Wooton, 319.\n    Notice of, 323, 327, 328.\n    Letter from, 335, 336, 343, 345, 364, 367, 368, 370.\n    Notice of, 374, 378, 379.\n\n  Deffand--Madame du.\n    Character of, ii. 214.\n    Her quarrel with Mademoiselle de L'Espinasse, 215.\n\n  De Lolme, i. 137.\n\n  D'Epinay--Madame.\n    Anecdote from, ii. 224.\n\n  Dettingen--Battle-field of, i. 252.\n\n  Deyverdun, ii. 410.\n\n  Dialogues concerning Natural Religion--Their characteristics, i.\n      328-330.\n    Account of them in a letter to Sir Gilbert Elliot, 332; ii. 490.\n\n  Dickson--David, ii. 383.\n\n  Diderot, ii. 181, 220.\n\n  D'Ivernois--M., ii. 325.\n\n  Divine right--Hume's opinions on, i. 123-124.\n\n  Dodwell--Mr., ii. 386.\n\n  Donaldson--Alexander, i. 431; ii. 4, 82.\n\n  Douglas--Mr., ii. 204.\n\n  ----, Dr., afterwards Bishop of Carlisle, ii. 78, 87.\n\n  ---- cause, ii. 150, 163, 203, 421, 423.\n\n  ---- of Cavers, ii. 407.\n\n  ----, Duchess of, ii. 232.\n\n  ----, Lady Jane, ii. 424.\n\n  ----, Tragedy of. Hume's criticism on, i. 419.\n    Rehearsal of, 420.\n\n  Dow--Colonel, ii. 461.\n\n  Duclos, ii. 181, 347.\n\n  Dupr\u00e9 de St. Maur--Madame, ii. 168, 347.\n\n  Durand--M., ii, 378.\n\n  Dysart--Mrs., of Eccles.\n    Hume's correspondence with, i. 337.\n\n  Dyson--Mr., ii. 132, 408.\n\n\n  Earthquakes--Fears regarding, i. 298.\n\n  Economy--Political.\n    See Political Economy.\n\n  Edmondstoune--Colonel, i. 212, 397, 409.\n    Letter to, ii. 182.\n    Letter from, to Hume, 185.\n    Letters to, 187, 473.\n    Letter from, 474, 508.\n\n  Education--On the influences of, i. 85.\n\n  ----, State of, in Scotland, in 17th and 18th centuries, i. 151.\n\n  Egmont--Countess of, ii. 299.\n\n  Election--Westminster, in 1749, i. 305.\n\n  Elibank--Lord, letters to, i. 192, 387; ii. 167, 252, 256, 257, 260.\n\n  Elliot--Sir Gilbert, of Minto.\n    Hume's intercourse with, i. 320.\n    Letters to, 321, 324.\n    His criticism on Hume's Dialogue, 323.\n    Hume's reply to, 324.\n    Account of the \"Epigoniad\" to, ii. 25.\n    Letter to, 32.\n    Letters to, 144, 159, 189.\n    Letter from, 233.\n    Reply, 235.\n    Letters to, 240, 244, 261, 270, 273, 280, 406, 407, 414.\n    Letter from, 415.\n    Letters to, 432, 434.\n\n  ----, Gilbert, younger of Minto, afterwards Governor-general of India,\n      ii. 233, 262, 271, 273, 281.\n\n  Elliot--Sir John, of Stobs, ii. 407.\n\n  ----, Anne, ii. 345.\n\n  ----, Hugh, ii. 262, 271, 273, 281.\n\n  ----, Lady, ii. 415, 446.\n\n  ----, Miss, ii. 62, 90.\n\n  ----, Peggy, ii. 62\n\n  \"Emile\"--Criticism on, ii. 114.\n\n  England--History of.\n    Rapidity with which it was composed and printed, i. 381; ii. 121.\n\n  \"English Malady,\" by Dr. Cheyne--Extracts from, i. 43-46.\n\n  Entails--Device for breaking, ii. 32.\n\n  Epicurean--The.\n    Remarks on, i. 142.\n\n  Epicurus, i. 142.\n\n  \"Epigoniad.\"\n    Some account of, ii. 25.\n    Hume's partiality to, 31.\n    Its rejection by the public, 34, 37.\n\n  Eriot--Professor, ii. 241.\n\n  Erskine--Sir Harry, i. 212.\n    Letter to, 219.\n    His illness, 264, 397, 409; ii. 159.\n\n  Erskine--John, ii. 453.\n\n  Essay--Historical, on chivalry and modern honour, i. 18, 25.\n\n  Essays--Moral and Political, when published, and how, i. 136.\n    Their success, 143.\n    Third edition of, 289.\n\n  ---- on Suicide and the Immortality of the Soul, ii. 13.\n\n  ---- on Political Economy, i. 354, 363.\n\n  Eugene--Prince.\n    His palace, i. 262; ii. 501\n\n\n  Fairholms--Bankruptcy of, ii. 195.\n\n  Falconer--Sir David, of Newton, i. 1.\n\n  Farquhar--John, ii. 154.\n\n  Ferguson--Sir Adam, ii. 451, 457.\n\n  ----, Professor Adam.\n    Hume's commendation of, ii. 32.\n    Notice of, 34.\n    Appointed Professor of Natural Philosophy, 45.\n    Notice of, 56.\n    \"Sister Peg\" attributed to him, 83.\n    Hume's mystification on the subject, 88.\n    Letter to, 172.\n    Letter from, 175.\n    His Essay on the History of Civil Society, 385, 409, 440, 461.\n\n  ----, a painter, ii. 409.\n\n  Fitzmaurice--Mr., ii. 163, 171.\n\n  Fitzroy--Charles, ii. 407.\n\n  Fl\u00e9che--La.\n    Hume's residence in, i. 57.\n    Jesuit's College of, ib.\n\n  Fleury--Cardinal, 498.\n\n  Fontaine--La, Les Contes de, removed from the Advocates' Library, i.\n      395.\n\n  Forester--Colonel James.\n    His connexion with the Marquis of Annandale, i. 174.\n    Verses on his traveling to the Highlands of Scotland, ib.\n\n  Fourqueux, ii, 348.\n\n  France--State of morality in, during Hume's time, ii. 91.\n\n  ----, Manners in, i. 53-54, 55-56; ii. 208.\n\n  Frankfort--Hume's account of, i. 251, 252.\n\n  Franklin--Benjamin, ii. 426, 427, 471, 476.\n\n  Fraser--James, i. 305.\n    Hume's character of, 308.\n\n  Free Trade--Hume as the founder of the principles of, ii. 520.\n\n  French literature.\n    Its licentious features, i. 395.\n\n\n  Galliani--Abb\u00e9, ii. 428.\n\n  Garden--Francis, ii. 204.\n\n  Garrick--David, ii. 141, 309, 421.\n\n  Gascoigne--Chief-justice, ii. 69.\n\n  Genlis--Madame de, ii. 221, 301.\n\n  Geoffrin--Madame.\n    Her position in Paris, ii. 210.\n    Specimen of her handwriting, 211.\n    Character of, 212, 471.\n\n  Geometry and Natural Philosophy--Dissertation on, i. 421.\n\n  Gerard--Alexander, ii. 55, 154, 155.\n\n  Gibbon--Edward, ii. 409.\n    Letter from, 410.\n    Letter to, 411, 484.\n\n  Gillies--Adam, ii. 138.\n\n  Glamorgan--Lord, ii. 77, 78.\n\n  Glanvill--Joseph, i. 83.\n\n  Glover--Richard, ii. 141.\n\n  Goodall--Walter, i. 374.\n    Anecdote regarding him, ib.; ii. 254.\n\n  Gordon--Father, ii. 201.\n\n  Government--Monarchical.\n    Hume's partiality for, i. 140.\n\n  Gower--Earl, i. 305.\n\n  Graffigny--M., ii. 390.\n\n  ----, Madame de, ii. 391.\n\n  Grafton--Duke of, ii. 284, 397, 407, 432.\n\n  Grammont--Madame de, ii. 206.\n\n  Gregory--Dr., ii. 154, 155.\n\n  Grenville--George, ii. 191, 226, 265, 272, 274, 282.\n\n  Greville--Mrs.\n    Her Ode to Indifference, i. 228.\n\n  Grimm--Baron de, ii. 168, 223.\n\n  Guerchy--M. de, ii. 290, 373.\n\n  Guichiardin, i. 113.\n    His character of Alexander VI. 113-114.\n\n  Guigne--M. de, ii. 446.\n\n  Gustard--Doctor, ii. 504.\n\n\n  Hague--The.\n    Hume's account of, i. 243.\n\n  Hamilton--Duke of, i. 417.\n\n  ----, Sir William, i. 288; ii. 153.\n\n  Halifax--Lord, ii. 160, 277.\n\n  Hall--Edward, ii. 72.\n\n  Hallam--Henry, ii. 66.\n\n  Hardwicke--Lord, ii. 465.\n\n  Harrington--Hume's opinion of, i. 361; ii. 481.\n\n  Hawke--Admiral, ii. 63.\n\n  Hay--Secretary to Prince Charles Edward, ii. 203.\n\n  Helv\u00e9tius--His \"De l'Esprit,\" i. 121; ii. 52.\n    Proposes Hume to translate it, 52.\n    Hume excuses himself, 53.\n    Notice of, 54, 57, 168, 131, 387.\n    His intercourse with Prince Charles Edward, ii. 464.\n\n  Henault--President, ii. 181, 266, 269.\n\n  Henry--Robert.\n    His History of Britain, ii. 469.\n    Hume's review of it, 470.\n\n  Hepburn--Rev. Thomas, ii. 472.\n\n  Herbert--Mr., ii. 162.\n\n  Hertford--Marquis of.\n    His appointment to the French Embassy, ii. 156.\n    Invitation to Hume, 156, 158.\n    Notice of, 159, 161, 164, 171, 172, 181.\n    Hume's opinion of, 183, 188, 197, 205, 232, 258, 269, 272, 274, 278.\n    Appointed lord-lieutenant of Ireland, 282, 284, 388.\n\n  ----, Marchioness of, ii. 92, 161, 171, 280.\n\n  Hervey--Lady, ii. 225.\n\n  Historians--Benefit to, from being familiar with military service, i.\n      218, 221.\n\n  ----, Knowledge requisite in, ii. 123-127.\n\n  History--Essay on, ii. 123, 126.\n\n  ---- of England--Hume's.\n    Preparation of, i. 378.\n    Rapidity of composition, 381.\n    Its reception, 414.\n\n  Hobbes--Hume's remarks regarding, i. 77, 94.\n\n  Holbach--Baron d', ii. 346, 353, 357.\n\n  Holderness--Lord, ii. 194, 386, 463.\n\n  Holingshed--Raphael, ii. 73.\n\n  Holland--Lord, i. 403; ii. 239.\n\n  Home--Alexander, Solicitor General, i. 208.\n\n  ----, Alexander, of Whitfield.\n    Letter to, i. 2-3.\n\n  ----, Lord.\n    His relationship to the Humes, i. 3.\n\n  ----, Henry.\n    Letters to, i. 62, 105, 144.\n    Letter from, 204.\n    His Essays, 426.\n    Anderson's writings against, 428.\n    Attacked in the General Assembly, 429.\n    His Law Tracts, ii. 56, 131, 195, 454.\n\n  ----, John.\n    His \"Douglas\" noticed, i. 316, 392, 411; ii. 17.\n    Hume's interest in him, i. 418.\n    Hume's opinion of his \"Douglas,\" i. 419; ii. 32.\n    Suppressed dedication to, 16.\n    His \"Siege of Aquileia,\" 81, 159, 166, 188, 191, 199, 383, 444, 456,\n        475, 482.\n    His diary of a journey with Hume, 495.\n    Bequest of port wine to, 506, 507.\n\n  ---- of Ninewells.\n    _See_ Hume.\n\n  ----, Mrs., ii. 404.\n\n  ----, Sir James, of Blackadder, i. 3.\n\n  Hope--Lord, ii. 56.\n\n  Human Nature, treatise of, i. 66.\n    Character of the work, 66, 97.\n    Its Style, 91.\n\n  ----, Understanding, Philosophical Essays concerning, i. 271.\n    Inquiry concerning, 271.\n\n  Human Actions, as the object of inductive philosophy, i. 275.\n    Application of this theory to history, 276.\n\n  Hume--David, his birth and parentage, i. 2-3.\n    Account of his family, 2-7.\n    His opinions on the philosophy of family pride, 5.\n    Scenes of his boyhood, 8-9.\n    Account of his early years, 10-11.\n    Education, ib.\n    Early correspondence, 12-16.\n    Ambitious projects, 17.\n    Early writings, 18-19.\n    Essay on chivalry, 18-25.\n    Deserts the law, 26.\n    Letter to a physician, 30-39.\n    Goes to Bristol, 39.\n    Leaves Bristol for France, 48.\n    Visit to Paris, 49.\n    Residence at Rheims, 51-56.\n    Residence at La Fl\u00e9che, 57.\n    Correspondence with Home, 62-65.\n    Preparing his treatise for press, 65.\n    Treatise of Human Nature, 66.\n    Treatise on the Passions, 99.\n    Review of Treatise in \"Works of the Learned,\" 109.\n    Anecdote on the subject, 110.\n    Intercourse with Hutcheson, 112.\n    Application for a situation, 115.\n    Treatise on Morals, 120.\n    Extracts from memorandum book, 127-135.\n    Moral and Political Essays, their publication, 136.\n      Their character, 137-143.\n    His partiality for monarchical government, 140.\n    Opinions on the liberty of the press, 137-139.\n    Criticism on Cicero, 144-146.\n    Correspondence with Hutcheson, 146.\n    Correspondence with Mure, 153, 158.\n    Thoughts on religion, 162.\n      On prayer, 163.\n    Endeavours to obtain the professorship of moral philosophy, 165.\n      Opposition, 168-169.\n      Unsuccessful, 170.\n    Residence with the Marquis of Annandale, ib.\n      Dissension there, 182-190.\n      Its effect on Hume, 191.\n      He resigns the appointment, 193.\n      Different views of his resignation, 194.\n      State of society in Scotland at that time, 196.\n    Difficulty of means of subsistence, 196-197.\n    Position of the poor scholar, 199.\n    Offer from General St. Clair of the Secretaryship accepted, 208.\n    Expedition to the coast of France, 210.\n    One of the historians who have been familiar with military service,\n        218.\n    Letter to Sir Harry Erskine, 219.\n      To Henry Home, 220.\n      To Col. Abercrombie, 222.\n    Desponding remarks on public affairs, 224.\n    Returns to Ninewells, 225.\n    Supposed character of himself, found amongst his papers, 226.\n    His poetical attempts, 227-229.\n    Question whether he was ever in love, 231.\n    Poetic epistle to John Medina, 234.\n    Appointment as secretary to the mission to the court of Turin, 235.\n    Letter to James Oswald, 236.\n    Views regarding history, ib.\n    Disinclination to leave his studies, 239.\n    New edition of his Essays, ib.\n    Philosophical Essays, ib.\n    His position with General St. Clair, 240.\n    Extracts from the Journal of his journey to Italy, 240-271.\n      Hague, 242.\n      Breda, 244.\n      Nimeguen, 247.\n      Bonne, 249.\n      Coblentz, ib.\n      Frankfurt, 251.\n      Wurtzburg, 252.\n      Ratisbon, 255.\n      Vienna, 257.\n      Knittlefeldt, 262.\n      Trent, 264.\n      Mantua, 265.\n      Turin, 266.\n    Publication of his Philosophical Essays, 271.\n    Inquiry concerning Human Understanding, 272.\n    Doctrine of Necessity, 275.\n    Doctrines on Miracles, 279-285.\n      His mode of treating the subject, 281.\n      Leading principle of his theory concerning, 282.\n    Third edition of Essays, Moral and Political, 289.\n    His mother's death, 291.\n    Silliman's story, 292.\n      Disproved, 293.\n    Correspondence with Dr. Clephane, 296.\n    Westminster election, 305.\n    Document regarding James Fraser, 308.\n    Letters to Col. Abercrombie, 311, 312.\n      To Dr. Clephane, 314.\n    Bellman's Petition, 315, 317.\n    Correspondence with Sir Gilbert Elliot, 324.\n    Dissertation on the Populousness of Antiquity, 326.\n    Dialogues concerning Natural Religion, 328.\n      Their character and tendency, 330.\n      Writes to Elliot regarding them, 331.\n    His brother's marriage, 337.\n    Letter to Mrs. Dysart, ib.\n    The independence of his mind, and moderation of his wishes, 340.\n    Letter to Michael Ramsay, 342.\n    His domestic arrangements, 344.\n    His theory of morals, 346.\n    Utilitarian system, 344.\n      Limited extent to which Hume carried it, 347.\n      Charge against it, 349.\n    Publication of Political Discourses, 350.\n    Is unsuccessful in his application for the chair of logic in\n        Glasgow, 350.\n    Letter to Dr. Cullen, 350.\n    Unfitness to be a teacher of youth, 352.\n    Political Discourses, 354.\n    Political economy, 355, 366.\n    Appointment, as keeper of the Advocates' Library, 367.\n    Letter to Dr. Clephane, 369, 376.\n    Account of domestic arrangements, 377.\n    Preparation of the History, 378.\n    Letter to Dr. Clephane, 379, 381.\n    Absorbing nature of his studies, 382.\n    Kindness to Blacklock, 385.\n    Letter to Joseph Spence, 388.\n      To Adam Smith, 393.\n    Gives Blacklock his salary as librarian, 393.\n    History of the Stuarts, 397.\n    Letter to Dr. Clephane, 397.\n    Conflicting opinions regarding the History of the Stuarts, 400.\n    Misapprehension regarding state of constitution, 403.\n    Inconsistencies between his philosophical and historical works, 405.\n    Letter to the Abb\u00e9 le Blanc, 406.\n      To Dr. Clephane, 408.\n      To William Mure of Caldwell, 409.\n      To Mrs. Dysart, 410.\n      To Andrew Millar, 415.\n      To Adam Smith, 417.\n    Criticism on Home's \"Douglas,\" 419.\n    _Edinburgh Review_, 422.\n    Attacked by Anderson, 429.\n    By the church courts, 430.\n    The second volume of the History of the Stuarts, ii. 5.\n      Its reception, ib.\n      Apologies for his treatment of religion, 10.\n      Unpublished preface, 11.\n    Essay on Suicide, 13.\n    Natural History of Religion, ib.\n    The suppressed Essays, ib.\n    Resigns the office of librarian, 18.\n    Dedication to Home, 21.\n    Third volume of the History, 22.\n    \"Epigoniad,\" 25.\n    Warburton's attack, 35.\n    Goes to London, 47.\n    Correspondence with Dr. Robertson, 48.\n    Returns to Scotland, 65.\n    History of the Tudors, ib.\n    His constitutional theories, 67.\n    Alterations of the History in the direction of despotic principles,\n        73.\n    Specimens of alterations, 74-77.\n    Specimens of alteration in style, 79, 80.\n    Letter to Millar, 81.\n      To Robertson, 83.\n    Macpherson's \"Ossian,\" 85.\n    Letter to Dr. Carlyle, 88.\n      To Adam Smith, 89.\n    Madame de Boufflers, 90.\n    Correspondence with Madame de Boufflers, 94-98, 102.\n      Rousseau, 102.\n    Letters from Earl Marischal, 104.\n    Criticism on \"Emile,\" 114.\n    Publication of the History anterior to the accession of the Tudors,\n        120.\n    Intention to write an Ecclesiastical History, 130.\n    Correspondence with Millar, 132.\n    Residence in James's Court, 136.\n    Corrections of his works, 144.\n    His projects, 144-146.\n    Douglas cause, 150.\n    Criticisms on Reid's \"Inquiry into the Human Mind,\" 153.\n    Accepts the office of secretary to the French embassy, 157.\n      Correspondence on the occasion, 157-160.\n    His celebrity in Paris, 167.\n      Feelings on the occasion, 171-172.\n    Attentions of the dauphin, 177.\n    Memoirs of James II., 179.\n    Advice to a clergyman, 185.\n    Secretaryship of the embassy, 188.\n    His pension, 191.\n    Letters from Paris, 193.\n    Madame de Boufflers, 205.\n    Social position in France, 207.\n    Notices by H. Walpole, 225.\n    Takes charge of Elliot's sons, 235.\n      Settles them in Paris, 244.\n    Liability to anger, 251.\n    Letter to Lord Elibank, 252.\n    Care of Elliot's sons, 273.\n    Secretaryship of legation, 278-281.\n      Is appointed to it, and to receive the salary, 284.\n      Expects to be secretary to Lord Hertford, as Lord-lieutenant of\n          Ireland, 287.\n        Is disappointed, 289.\n    Rousseau, 293.\n      Hume's first opinion of him, 299.\n      Brings him to England, 303.\n      Settles him at Wooton, 319.\n    Rousseau's quarrel, 326-330.\n      Publication of it, 354-360.\n    Walpole, 361.\n    Kindness to Rousseau, 381.\n    Appointed under secretary of state, 382.\n    His amiability of character, 390.\n    Compared with his nephew, Baron Hume, 402.\n    His interest in the education of his nephews, 403.\n    Influence in church patronage, 406.\n    His picture, 408.\n    Criticism of Robertson's Charles V., 412.\n    Views on currency, 426.\n    Returns to Edinburgh, 429.\n    Education of his nephews, 430.\n    His dislike of the English, 433.\n    His social character, 437.\n    Temper and disposition, 441.\n    His own account of his character, 442.\n    His conversation, 451.\n    Traditional anecdotes, 457.\n    Incidents regarding Prince Charles Edward, 462.\n    Review of Henry's History, 469.\n    Political opinions, 479.\n    Impatient for Smith's \"Wealth of Nations,\" 483.\n    His last illness, 487, _et seq._\n    His will, 489.\n    Disposal of his manuscripts, 490.\n    Publication of the \"Dialogues on Natural Religion,\" 491-493.\n    Negotiations with Smith on the subject, ib.\n    His journey to Bath, 495, _et seq._\n    John Home's account of their journey, ib.\n    His return, 506.\n    Party to bid him farewell, 507.\n    Correspondence, ib.\n    Smith's account of his latter days, 514.\n    Account of his death by Dr. Black and Dr. Cullen, 515.\n    His funeral and monument, 517-518.\n    Influence of his works on the opinions of the world, 519.\n\n  Hume, or Home of Ninewells--Anecdote of, i. 6, 7.\n\n  ----, John of Ninewells, brother to Hume, i. 213.\n    Narrative of the Expedition to the coast of France, addressed to,\n        213-217.\n    His marriage, 337.\n    Letters to, ii. 290, 308, 396.\n    His character, 398.\n\n  ----, David, afterwards Baron, ii. 400.\n    Compared with his uncle, 402, 405, 425, 474, 479, 480.\n\n  ----, Joseph, of Ninewells, i. 1.\n\n  ----, Joseph, younger.\n    His education, ii. 174, 175, 292, 398, 403, 404.\n\n  ----, Director, i. 387.\n\n  ----, John.\n    _See_ Home--John.\n\n  ----, Mrs., verses by, i. 295.\n\n  ----, Frank, ii. 199.\n\n  Huntingdon--Lady, ii. 506.\n\n  Hurd--Warburton's letter to, ii. 35.\n    Notice of, 50.\n\n  Hutcheson--Francis, i. 111.\n    Hume's correspondence with, 112.\n    His reflexions on Hume's papers, 112.\n    Letter to, 117, 146.\n\n\n  Ideas--Hume's theory of, i, 70.\n\n  Impressions--Hume's theory of, i. 73.\n\n  Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, i. 344.\n    Its tendency, ib.\n\n  ---- concerning Human Understanding, its publication, 273.\n    Views developed in it, 274.\n\n  Irvine--Colonel, ii. 160.\n\n\n  James II.--Memoirs of, ii. 179, 200.\n\n  James's Court--Hume's residence in, description of, ii. 136.\n\n  Jardine--Dr., ii. 197, 230, 286.\n    His death, 317, 318.\n\n  Jeffrey--Lord, i. 403.\n\n  Jenyns--Soame, ii. 55, 59.\n\n  Johnson--Dr., ii. 122.\n    Anecdote of, 138, 420.\n\n  Johnstone of Hilton--Anecdote of, i. 6, 7.\n\n  ----, Colonel John, i. 185.\n\n  ----, Sir James--of Westerhall, i. 175, 176.\n    Letters to, 182, 184, 192.\n    Letter to, from Henry Home, 204.\n\n  Johnstone--Sir William, ii. 168.\n\n  Journal--Hume's, of his journey to Italy, i. 240, 271.\n\n  Judge Advocate--Hume appointed, i. 212.\n    Claim for half-pay, 222.\n\n  Justice Clerk--The, ii. 47.\n\n\n  Kames--Lord.\n    _See_ Home--Henry.\n\n  Kant--Effect of Hume's Theory of Cause and Effect on, i. 79.\n    His justification of Hume, 88.\n\n  Keith--Mr., ii. 431.\n\n  Keith--General, ii. 498.\n\n  Kenrick--William Shakspere, editor of _The London Review_, i. 110.\n\n  Kincaid--Alexander, i. 431; ii. 4, 81, 82.\n\n  Kirkpatrick--James, i. 387.\n\n  Knittlefeldt in Styria, Hume's account of it, i. 262.\n\n  Knox--John, ii. 58.\n\n\n  La Chapelle, ii. 270.\n\n  La Harpe, ii. 468.\n\n  Lansdowne--Lord, ii. 146.\n\n  Larpent--Mr., ii. 245, 271.\n\n  Law and government--first principles of, Hume's remarks on, i. 122.\n\n  Leechman--Dr., i. 160.\n    Hume's criticism on his sermon, 161, 411.\n\n  Legge, H. B., ii. 54.\n\n  Leslie--Sir John.\n    His professorship, i. 89.\n\n  L'Espinasse--Mademoiselle de.\n    Her position with Madame du Deffand, ii. 215.\n    D'Alembert's attachment to her, ib.\n    Notice of, 237.\n\n  Lestock--Admiral Richard, i. 210.\n\n  Leyden--University of, i. 151.\n\n  Lindsay--Lord, i. 413.\n\n  ----, Lady Anne.\n    Her remembrances of Hume, ii. 445.\n\n  Liston--Mr., afterwards Sir Robert, ii. 245, 270, 271, 273, 280, 414.\n\n  Literature, French--State of, ii. 166.\n\n  Locke, i. 94; ii. 68.\n\n  Logic--chair of, in Glasgow, i. 350.\n\n  L'Orient--Port of, i. 211.\n    Expedition against, i. 211.\n\n  Loughborough--Lord, ii. 425.\n\n  Louis XV--Anecdotes of, 499.\n\n  Lounds--Mr., ii. 368.\n\n  Lyttelton--George Lord, i. 391, 433; ii. 55, 58, 79, 82, 226, 345.\n\n  Luze--M. de, ii. 303-305.\n\n\n  Macdonald--Sir James, ii. 228, 229, 257, 267, 272, 349.\n\n  Mackenzie--Henry, i. 58.\n    His ideas of Hume, ii. 438, 444.\n\n  Mackenzie, Stuart, ii. 258, 259.\n\n  Mackintosh--Sir James, i. 287.\n\n  Macpherson--James, i. 462; ii. 85, 461.\n\n  Malesherbes, ii. 219.\n\n  Malet\u00eate--M., ii. 428.\n\n  Mallet--David, ii. 3, 79, 82, 131, 140, 141.\n    Letter from, to Hume, 142.\n    Notice of, 144, 187, 232.\n    His death, 273.\n\n  ----, Mrs., ii. 62, 141, 200, 232.\n\n  Malthus, i. 364.\n\n  Mansfield--Lord, ii. 163, 386, 415, 424, 466.\n\n  Mantua--Hume's account of, i. 265.\n\n  March--Lord, ii. 240, 241, 242, 245.\n\n  Marchmont--Lord, extraordinary adventure of, i. 237.\n\n  Marischal--Lord, ii. 103.\n    Letters from, 104, 105.\n    Notice of, 113, 139, 175, 179, 182, 217, 293, 295, 306, 313, 354,\n        464, 465.\n\n  Markham--Sir George, ii. 146.\n\n  Marlborough--Duke of, ii. 141.\n\n  ----, Duchess of, ii. 141.\n\n  Marmontel, ii. 181, 196.\n\n  Martigny, ii. 52.\n\n  Masserane--Prince, ii. 428.\n\n  Mathematics.\n    Hume's application of, i. 73.\n\n  Mauvillon--El\u00e9azar, i. 365.\n\n  Maxwell--Sir John, ii. 455.\n\n  Mead--Dr., i. 316.\n\n  Medina--John, poetic epistle to, by Hume, i. 234.\n\n  Memorandum book--Hume's.\n    Extracts from, i. 126-135.\n\n  Mesnieres--President, ii. 177.\n\n  Metaphysics.\n    Theories purely such not dangerous to religion, i. 86, 88.\n\n  Millar--Andrew, i. 415.\n    His views for Hume, ib.\n    Correspondence with, 421; ii. 2, 22, 34.\n    Notice of, 57, 64, 81.\n    Letters to, 130, 134, 135, 136, 138, 143, 147, 179, 199, 200, 231,\n        263, 264, 272, 393, 408.\n\n  ----, Mrs., ii. 180, 200, 232.\n\n  ----, Professor, ii. 474, 479, 480, 481.\n\n  Milton--Lord, ii. 46, 199.\n\n  Minto--Lord, i. 320; ii. 233.\n\n  Mirabeau, the elder, i. 365, 366.\n\n  Miracles--Doctrines on, i. 279-286.\n\n  Mirepoix--Madame de, ii. 244, 245.\n\n  Monarchical character--sacredness of, Hume's ideas on, ii. 70.\n\n  Monboddo--Lord, ii. 467.\n    _See_ Burnet.\n\n  Moncrief--David, ii. 431.\n\n  Money--Letter on the value of, i. 301.\n\n  ----, Elements of the value of, according to Hume, i. 358-360.\n\n  Montesquieu, i. 92, 139.\n    His Esprit des Loix, i. 304.\n    His appreciation of Hume's critical works, 305, 365, 387.\n    Letters from, to Hume, 426.\n\n  Montigny--Trudaine de, letter from, ii. 167, 352.\n\n  ----, Madame, ii. 348.\n\n  Moore--Mr., ii. 436.\n\n  Moral and Political Essays, their publication, i. 136.\n\n  ---- Sentiments--Theory of, by Adam Smith, ii. 55.\n    Hume's appreciation of it, ib.\n\n  Morals--Treatise on, i. 120.\n    Principles of, inquiry concerning, 344.\n    The utilitarian, limited extent to which it was carried by Hume,\n        347.\n    Charge against it, 349.\n\n  Morellet--The Abb\u00e9, ii. 276, 337, 425.\n    Letter to, 426.\n\n  Morrice--Corbyn, ii. 147.\n\n  Mount Stuart--Lord, ii. 184.\n\n  Muirhead--Mr., i. 411.\n\n  Mure--William, of Caldwell, i. 380.\n    Letters to, i. 153, 158, 162, 165; ii. 19, 158, 165, 199, 200, 390,\n        391, 436, 478.\n\n  Murray--Lady Elliot, letter from, ii. 446.\n\n  ----, Alexander, i. 306; ii. 93, 101, 168, 258, 259.\n\n  ----, Mrs., ii. 281.\n\n  ----, of Broughton, i. 167.\n\n  Musset Pathay, ii. 322, 325, 329, 330.\n\n\n  Nairne--Mr., ii. 456.\n\n  National characters--Essay on, i. 290.\n\n  Nationality--Hume's spirit of, ii. 31.\n\n  Natural Philosophy--Hume's notes on, i. 95-96.\n\n  Natural Religion--Dialogues concerning, i. 328, 330.\n    Arrangements regarding their publication, ii. 490-493.\n\n  Necessity--Doctrine of, i. 275.\n\n  Necker, ii. 487.\n\n  Neville--Mr., ii. 171.\n\n  Nicholas--Sir Harris.\n    His chronology of history, ii. 123.\n\n  Nicol--Miss, ii. 361.\n\n  Niebuhr, i. 218.\n\n  Nimeguen--Hume's account of, i. 247.\n\n  Ninewells, family residence of the Humes, i. 1, 8.\n\n  Nivernois--Duc de, ii. 286, 431, 449.\n\n  Nominalism--Hume's, a system of, i. 73.\n\n  North--Lord, ii. 479.\n\n  Norwich--Bishop of, ii. 54.\n\n  Note-book--Hume's, extracts from, i. 126-135.\n\n\n  Obedience--Passive, Hume's opinions on, ii. 70.\n\n  Orange--Prince of.\n    His popularity, i. 242.\n\n  Ord--Baron, ii. 436.\n\n  ----, Miss, ii. 436, 494.\n\n  Original Contract--Essay of the, i. 290.\n\n  Orleans--Duke of, ii. 269.\n\n  ----, Duchess of, ii. 269.\n\n  Ormond--James Butler, Duke of, ii. 77.\n\n  Ossian's Poems, ii. 85.\n    Essay on the authenticity of, 86.\n    Notice of, 180.\n\n  ----, Papers regarding, i. 462.\n\n  Ossory--Lord, ii. 322.\n\n  Oswald--Sir Harry, ii. 188, 191.\n\n  ----, James, of Dunnikier, i. 156, 222.\n    Letter to, 236, 301, 380.\n    Notice of, ii. 58.\n    Letter to, 149.\n    Notice of, 188.\n    Letter to, 275.\n\n\n  Page du Boccage--Madame de, ii. 213.\n\n  Paley--William, i. 152.\n\n  Palgrave--Sir Francis, ii. 122.\n\n  Paoli, King of Corsica, ii. 307.\n\n  Paris--Abb\u00e9, miracles at his tomb, i. 49-50.\n\n  ----, Hume's first visit to, i. 49-51.\n\n  ----, University of, i. 151.\n\n  Passions--Treatise on, i. 99.\n    Some account of, 104.\n    Dissertation on, 421.\n\n  Passive obedience--Essay of, i. 220.\n\n  Percy--Bishop, ii. 385.\n\n  Peyrou, du, ii. 335.\n\n  Philosophical Essays concerning the Human Understanding.\n    When published, i. 271.\n\n  Philosophy--System of, in the Treatise of Human Nature, i. 66, 97.\n    Its characteristic, 97.\n\n  Physician--Letter to, i. 30-39, 41, 42.\n\n  Piozzi--Mrs., ii. 139.\n\n  Pitcairne--Dr., ii. 390.\n\n  Pitfour--Lord, ii. 480.\n\n  Pitt--William, i. 392; ii. 63, 159, 160, 162, 163.\n\n  Platonist--The, i. 141.\n\n  Pluche--The Abb\u00e9, i. 52.\n\n  Plutarch--Hume's project of translating, i. 415, 417.\n\n  Poetry by Hume, i. 228.\n\n  ---- by Mrs. Home of Ninewells, i. 295.\n\n  ---- By Miss A. B., to Mrs. H----, by her Black Boy, i. 296.\n\n  Political Discourses--Publication of, i. 350.\n    Their character, 354.\n\n  ---- Economy. Hume's ideas on, i. 355.\n    How received, 356.\n    State of opinion on, in the time of Hume, i. 355-356.\n    Effect of the French Revolution on, 357.\n\n  Political Doctrines--Hume's, i. 123.\n    Their inconsistency with his historical works, 405.\n\n  Pompadour--Madame de, ii. 169.\n\n  Populousness of Ancient Nations--Essay on, i. 326, 363.\n\n  Praslin--Duc de, ii. 172, 283, 290.\n\n  ----, Duchess de, ii. 173.\n\n  Press--Liberty of, i. 137-138.\n\n  Prev\u00f4t--Abb\u00e9, i. 408; ii. 52.\n\n  Primrose--Lady, ii. 462.\n\n  Pringle--Sir John, president of the Royal Society of London, i. 165.\n    Letter to, ii. 162.\n    Letter from, 465, 476.\n\n  Protestant Succession--Essay on, i. 365.\n\n  Provence--Comte de, ii. 178.\n\n  Prussia--King of, ii. 306, 309, 363.\n\n  Prynne--William, i. 405.\n\n  Puysieuls--Mons. de, ii. 204, 266.\n\n\n  Quesnay, i. 365.\n\n\n  Rabutin--Bussy, i. 306.\n\n  Ralph--Mr., ii. 148.\n\n  Ramsay--Allan, i. 421; ii. 135.\n\n  ----, The Chevalier, i. 12, 53.\n\n  ----, Michael, an early correspondent of Hume's, i. 11, 51, 107, 116.\n    Letter to, ii. 342.\n\n  Ratisbon--Hume's account of, i. 255.\n\n  Raynal--The Abb\u00e9, i. 365.\n\n  Record Commission.\n    Works prepared by, ii. 121.\n\n  Reid--Dr. Thomas; his \"Inquiry into the Human Mind,\" ii. 151.\n    Intercourse with Hume, 153.\n    Letter from, 154.\n\n  Religion--Hume's thoughts regarding, i. 162-164, 279.\n    His treatment of, ii. 5.\n    Tone in speaking of the Roman Catholic religion, ii. 6.\n\n  ----, Hume's apologies for his treatment of, ii. 10.\n\n  ----, Natural.\n    Dialogues concerning, i. 328; ii. 490.\n    Their character and tendency, i. 330.\n\n  Republicanism--Hume's estimate of, ii. 481.\n\n  _Review_--The original _Edinburgh_.\n    Its origin, i. 422.\n\n  Rheims--Hume's residence in, i. 51-56.\n\n  Rianecourt--Madame, ii. 351.\n\n  Riccoboni--Madame, ii. 350.\n\n  Richmond--Duke of, ii. 282, 290, 326.\n\n  Rivi\u00e8re, i. 365.\n\n  Robertson--Dr. William.\n    Hume's commendations of, ii. 32, 43.\n    Letter to, regarding Queen Mary, 48.\n    Correspondence with Hume, 49-55.\n    Notice of, 58.\n    Correspondence and notices, 83, 100, 176, 229, 252, 266, 270, 286,\n        383.\n    Remarks by Hume on his History of Charles Fifth, 412, 445, 453, 470.\n\n  Robinson--Sir Thomas, i. 257.\n\n  Roche--La.\n    Story of, i. 58.\n\n  Rockingham--Lord, ii. 282, 395, 396.\n\n  Rodney--Admiral, ii. 61.\n\n  Rohan--Louis, Prince de, ii. 221.\n\n  Rollin, ii. 50.\n\n  Romilly--Sir Samuel, ii. 220.\n\n  Rougemont--M., ii. 330.\n\n  Rousseau--Jean Jacques, ii. 102, 110, 112-113, 114, 187.\n    Takes up his abode at Motier Travers, 293.\n    Removes to St. Pierre, 294.\n    Goes to Strasburg, 296.\n      To Paris, ib.\n    The enthusiasm for him at Paris, 299.\n    Goes to England, 303, 308, 311, 312.\n    Hume's account of him, 315.\n    His judgment on his own works, 316.\n    Settlement at Wooton, 319.\n    Walpole's letter, 321.\n    Pension from the King of England, 324.\n    Quarrel with Hume, 326-380.\n\n  Ruat--Professor, ii. 56, 62.\n\n  Ruddiman--Thomas, i. 367; ii. 19.\n\n  Russel--J., ii. 192.\n\n  Rutherford--Dr., ii. 199.\n\n\n  Saducismus Triumphatus, i. 83.\n\n  Sandwich--Lord, ii. 160.\n\n  Sarsfield--Count, ii. 388.\n\n  Saurin, ii. 387.\n\n  Sceptic--The, i. 141.\n    Character of, 143.\n\n  Scholar--The poor.\n    His position in Hume's time, i. 199.\n\n  Scott of Scotstarvet, i. 416.\n\n  ----, Sir Walter.\n    His remarks on Hume's poetical attempts, i. 226, 227; ii. 137.\n\n  Selwin--George, ii. 240.\n\n  Shaftesbury--Lord, i. 384.\n\n  Sharp--Matthew, of Hoddam.\n    Letter to, i. 178-180, 386.\n\n  Sheffield--Lord, ii. 409.\n\n  Shelburne--Lord, ii. 405, 406.\n\n  Short--Mr., ii. 64.\n\n  Silliman--the American traveller.\n    His story regarding Hume, i. 291-293.\n\n  Smellie--William, ii. 469.\n\n  Smith--Adam.\n    His first introduction to Hume, i. 117.\n    His appointment to the chair of Moral Philosophy, 350.\n    The method of his political economy, 361.\n    Letters to, and notices of, 375, 393.\n    His correspondence with Hume, 417.\n    Letter to, ii. 16.\n    Hume's commendation of, 32.\n    Notice of, 58, 59.\n    Correspondence with, 89, 148, 150, 157, 160, 168, 227, 228, 348,\n        349, 353, 388, 390, 395, 426, 429, 432, 433, 459, 461, 466, 471.\n    Letter to, on his \"Wealth of Nations,\" 486.\n    Appointed Hume's literary executor, 490.\n    Letters to, 491.\n    Revocation of the nomination, 494.\n    His account of Hume's last moments, 509.\n\n  Smollett--Tobias, ii. 53.\n    Hume's interest in, 405.\n    Letter from, 418.\n    Letter to, 419.\n\n  Solitude--Hume's opinion on, i. 99.\n\n  Spence--Joseph.\n    Letter to, i. 388.\n    Notice of, 435.\n\n  Spinoza, i. 89.\n\n  St. Clair--General.\n    His invitation to Hume, to act as secretary to the expedition to the\n        Coast of France, i. 208.\n    His expedition, ib. 440.\n    Appoints Hume secretary to the mission to the Court of Turin, 235,\n        372.\n\n  Stanislaus Augustus, King of Poland, ii. 91.\n\n  Stevenson--John, ii. 46.\n\n  Stewart--Dugald, i. 88, 89.\n\n  ----, John, ii. 168, 180, 311, 321.\n\n  Stobo--Captain Robert, ii. 418.\n\n  Stoic--The, i. 141.\n\n  Strahan--William, ii. 82-83, 412.\n    Hume's papers left to the charge of, 494.\n    Letters from, 477, 512.\n\n  Stuart--Andrew, ii. 168, 175, 203, 423, 424, 466.\n\n  ----, Dr., ii. 454.\n\n  ---- Mackenzie, Mr., ii. 258.\n\n  ----, Gilbert, ii. 414, 416, 456, 467.\n    His opinion of himself, 468.\n    Anecdotes regarding, 469.\n    His malignity, ib. 470.\n\n  Stuarts--History of the, i. 399.\n    Character of the work, ib.\n    Conflicting opinions regarding, 400.\n    Charge brought against, 401.\n    Tendency, 402.\n    Its reception, 414.\n    Second volume, ii. 2.\n\n  Suard--M.\n    Letter to, ii. 357.\n\n  Suicide--Hume's ideas on, ii. 15.\n\n  Sympathy--Criticism on Smith's ideas on, ii. 60.\n\n\n  Tate--Christopher, ii. 432.\n\n  Tavistock--Lord, ii. 239.\n\n  Teacher of youth--Hume's unfitness for, i. 352.\n    Qualifications requisite, ib.\n\n  Temple--Lord, ii. 163.\n\n  Tess\u00e9--Countess of, ii. 206.\n\n  Thomson--Dr. John, i. 351, 353.\n\n  Torbay, ii. 63.\n\n  Townsend--Lord, ii. 407.\n\n  ----, Charles, ii. 58, 132, 133, 134, 304, 305.\n\n  ----, Mrs., ii. 305.\n\n  Trade--Free.\n    _See_ Free Trade.\n\n  Tragedy--Dissertation on, i. 421.\n\n  Trail--Dr., ii. 204, 245, 456.\n\n  Treatise of Human Nature, when published, i. 66.\n    Character of the work, 66-97.\n    Its service to philosophy, 90.\n    Characteristics of the system, 97.\n    Hume's condition during its composition, 96.\n    Its reception, 107-109.\n    Treatise on the Passions, some account of, 99.\n    Treatise on Morals, its character, 120-123.\n\n  Trent--Hume's account of, i. 264.\n\n  Trentham--Lord, i. 305.\n\n  Tronchin, ii. 186, 338, 345.\n\n  Tucker.\n    His Light of Nature, i. 150.\n\n  ----, Dr., ii. 428.\n\n  Turgot, i. 365.\n    Hume's friendship with, ii. 219, 351, 354.\n    Letters from, 352, 381, 428.\n\n  Tweeddale--Marquis of, ii. 383.\n\n\n  Understanding--The Treatise on, i. 99.\n\n  Universities--foreign.\n    The resort of Scottish youth, i. 150.\n\n  Utilitarian system--Hume's development of, i. 121, 344.\n    Limited extent to which he carried it, 347.\n\n\n  Vain man--Hume's character of, i. 104.\n\n  Valli\u00e8re--Duc de, ii. 268.\n\n  Vandeput--Sir George, i. 105.\n\n  Vauban, i. 365.\n\n  Vasseur--Th\u00e9r\u00e8se le, ii. 294, 299, 305, 307, 323, 352, 366, 370.\n\n  Verdelin--Madame de, ii. 295.\n\n  Vienna.\n    Hume's account of the court there, and his introduction, i. 257-259.\n\n  Vincent--Captain Philip, i. 177, 180.\n    His position with the Marquis of Annandale, 181, 186-189.\n    Letter from, 189.\n    Terms specified by, of Hume's engagement with the Marquis of\n        Annandale, 201, 203.\n\n  Voltaire, i. 219; ii. 57, 126, 166, 184, 195, 323, 348, 358.\n    His \"Henriade,\" Hume's opinion of, 440.\n\n\n  Walker--Professor, ii. 334.\n\n  Wallace--Dr. Robert, i. 364, 387; ii. 193.\n\n  Walpole, Lady, ii. 138.\n\n  ----, Sir Robert.\n    Hume's character of, i. 289.\n\n  ----, Horace.\n    Anecdote from, i. 197; ii. 54, 55, 159.\n    His notices of Hume, 226.\n    Account of his own reception in Paris, 226.\n    His letter in the name of the King of Prussia, 306, 321.\n    His Memoirs of George III., 282, 345, 351.\n    Letter to, 355, 361.\n\n  Warburton--Bishop.\n    His letter to Hurd, i. 285.\n    Notice of, ii. 35.\n    His letter against Hume, ib.\n    His Remarks on Hume's essays, ib.\n    Notice of, 38, 64, 454.\n\n  Warton--Thomas, ii. 51.\n\n  Wealth of Nations--Hume's opinion of the, ii. 486.\n\n  Wedderburn--Alexander, i. 379; ii. 471.\n\n  Westminster election, in 1749, i. 305.\n\n  Weymouth--Lord, ii. 384.\n\n  Wilkie--William.\n    His \"Epigoniad,\" ii. 25, 29.\n    His education, 26.\n\n  Wilkes--John, ii. 148, 202, 282, 422.\n\n  Wilson--Mr., type-founder, ii. 59.\n\n  Wood--Mr., ii. 63, 182.\n\n  Worcester--Marquis of.\n    _See_ Glamorgan--Lord.\n\n  Wray--Mr., ii. 465.\n\n  Wroughton--Mr., ii. 272.\n\n  Wurtzburg--Hume's account of, i. 252.\n\n\n  York--Archbishop of, ii. 386.\n\n  ----, Duke of, ii. 310.\n\n  Yorke--Mr., ii. 59.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTES\n\n\nThe following words use an oe ligature in the original:\n\n     coeur         manoeuvres\n     Croesus       oeuvres\n     Foedera       Phoenicians\n     foetid        Ploemeur\n\nThe following corrections have been made to the text:\n\n     Page xvii: Observations on Miracles--[dash missing in\n     original]New Edition\n\n     Page 62: but, in their early intercourse[original has\n     \"intercouse\"], when his senior\n\n     Page 150: Edinb.[original has \"Edinr.\"] Jan. 10, 1743.\n\n     Page 154: \"[quotation mark missing in original]I say not a\n     word of Mr. Hutcheson\n\n     Page 158: the triennial bill, for the pension[original has\n     \"pensiou\"] bill\n\n     Page 210: commanded by Admiral[original has \"Amiral\"] Richard\n     Lestock\n\n     Page 252: \"[quotation mark missing in original]Next post\n     beyond Hanau\n\n     Page 283: we would at once maintain to be impossible[original\n     has \"impossibile\"]\n\n     Page 313: delivered you by Mr.[period missing in original]\n     William Cockburn\n\n     Page 324: that part of your work.[original has extraneous\n     quotation mark]\n\n     Page 326: is beyond human capacity[original has \"ca acity\"]\n\n     Page 333: '_If the idea of cause and effect is nothing but\n     vicinity_,'[quotation mark missing in original]\n\n     Page 391: subscription for supporting[original has\n     \"suppporting\"] him during five years\n\n     Page 400: it has frequently been the means[original has\n     \"mean\"] of throwing\n\n     Page 427: if this were necessary!\"[quotation mark missing in\n     original]\n\n     Page 431: and he[original has \"be\"] brought before the\n     Presbytery of Edinburgh\n\n     Page 457: le dessein de traduire l'ouvrage[original has\n     \"l'ourage\"]\n\n     Page 458: J'ai[original has \"Jai\"] l'honneur d'\u00eatre, &c.\n\n     Page 472: necessity of that precaution,[comma missing in\n     original] any man\n\n     Page 480: never approaches a hair's breadth[original has\n     \"hair'sbreadth\"] nearer\n\n     [257:1] [original has extraneous double quote]Sir T. Robinson\n     was a tall uncouth man\n\n     [325:1] La Perp\u00e9tuit\u00e9 de la Foi, de l'Eglise[original has \"l'\n     Eglise\"] Catholique\n\n     [353:1] into which they had been admitted.\"[original has\n     single quote]\n\n     [365:3] Discours Politiques traduits de L'Anglais[original\n     has \"L' Anglois\"]\n\n     [434:1] \u00e9pitres[original has \"\u00e8pitres\"] de Cic\u00e9ron\n\n     [434:1] les Bourgmestres de la ville de Rome.\"[quotation mark\n     missing in original]","title":"Life and Correspondence of David Hume, Volume 1","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":164318}