{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_42844/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_42844","id":"gutenberg_42844","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/42844","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Biographies","Category: History - British","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 this text.\n\nThe original uses side by side columns for comparisons. This text has\nthe contents of the right column indented five spaces below the contents\nof the left column.\n\n\n\n\n                               LIFE AND\n\n                          CORRESPONDENCE OF\n\n                             DAVID HUME.\n\n\n             [Illustration: Portrait of Hume from a Bust]\n\n\n\n\n                                 LIFE\n\n                                 AND\n\n                            CORRESPONDENCE\n\n                                  OF\n\n                             DAVID HUME.\n\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 II.\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\nCONTENTS OF VOLUME SECOND.\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II.\n\n  Portrait of Hume from a Bust,                        _Frontispiece_.\n\n  Fac simile of a page of the History of England,              Page 79\n\n  Fac simile of a letter from Rousseau,                            326\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n1756-1759. \u00c6T. 45-48.\n\n  The second volume of the History of the Stuarts--His Apologies\n  for his Treatment of Religion--The Four Dissertations--The Two\n  Suppressed Dissertations--Resigns his Office of Librarian--\n  Home's Douglas--Commences the History of the Tudors--\n  Wilkie's Epigoniad--Hume's Nationalism--Warburton--Colonel\n  Edmondstoune--Dr. Robertson--Negotiations as to Ferguson's\n  Chair--Hume goes to London--Writes Letters of Fictitious and\n  Extravagant News--Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments--\n  Publication of the History of the House of Tudor--General View\n  of the Constitutional Principles of the History.                   1\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n1760-1762. \u00c6T. 49-51.\n\n  Alterations of the History in the direction of despotic\n  Principles--Specimens--Alterations in Style--Specimens--His\n  Elaboration--Ossian's Poems--Labours at the early part of the\n  History--Ferguson's \"Sister Peg\"--Acquaintance with Madame de\n  Boufflers--Account of that lady--First intercourse with\n  Rousseau--Rousseau's position--The exiled Earl Marischal--\n  Campbell and his Dissertation on Miracles.                        73\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n1762-1763. \u00c6T. 51-52.\n\n  The Publication of the History anterior to the Accession of\n  the Tudors--Completion of the History--Inquiry how far it is a\n  complete History--Hume's Intention to write an Ecclesiastical\n  History--Opinions of Townsend and others on his History--\n  Appreciation of the Fine Arts--Hume's House in James's Court--\n  Its subsequent occupation by Boswell and Johnson--Conduct\n  of David Mallet--Hume's Projects--The Douglas Cause--\n  Correspondence with Reid.                                        120\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n1763-1764. \u00c6T. 52-53.\n\n  Lord Hertford's appointment to the French Embassy, and\n  invitation to Hume to accompany him--Correspondence on the\n  occasion--Residence in London, and remarks on the Political\n  Movements of 1763--State of his reputation in France--His\n  Arrival--Letters to friends at home about his flattering\n  reception--The young French princes--Observations on eminent\n  French people--His recommendations to a Clergyman--\n  Introductions of Fellow Countrymen.                              156\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n1764-1765. \u00c6T. 53-54.\n\n  The French and English Society of Hume's day--Reasons of his\n  warm reception in France--Society in which he moved--Mixture\n  of lettered men with the Aristocracy--Madame Geoffrin--Madame\n  Du Page de Boccage--Madame Du Deffand--Mademoiselle De\n  L'Espinasse--D'Alembert--Turgot--The Prince of Conti--Notices\n  of Hume among the Parisians--Walpole in Paris--Resumption of\n  the Correspondence--Hume undertakes the management of Elliot's\n  sons--Reminiscences of home--Mrs. Cockburn--Adam Smith--Madame\n  De Boufflers and the Prince of Conti--Correspondence with Lord\n  Elibank.                                                         207\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.[vi:A]\n\n1765-1766. \u00c6T. 54-55.\n\n  Hume's Sentiments as to the Popularity of his works--A letter\n  to the Scottish Clergy--Correspondence with Elliot continued--\n  Sir Robert Liston--Mallet--Hume appointed Secretary of\n  Legation--Charg\u00e9 d' Affaires at Paris--Proposal to appoint him\n  Secretary for Ireland--Reasons of the Failure of the Project--\n  Lord Hertford--Resumption of Communication with Rousseau--\n  Rousseau in Paris--Notices of his History and Character--\n  Hume's Solicitude for his welfare--Return to Britain--Disposal\n  of Rousseau--Death of Jardine.                                   263\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n1766-1767. \u00c6T. 55-56.\n\n  Rousseau at Wooton--Mr. Davenport--Negotiations as to\n  Rousseau's pension--Origin and rise of his excitement against\n  Hume--Proper method of viewing the dispute--Incidents\n  illustrative of Rousseau's state of mind--His charges against\n  Hume--Smith's opinion--Opinion of the French friends--Hume's\n  conduct in the publication of the papers--Voltaire--Rousseau's\n  flight and wanderings--Hume's subsequent conduct to him.         319\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n1766-1770. \u00c6T. 55-59.\n\n  Hume Under Secretary of State--Church Politics--Official\n  abilities--Conduct as to Ferguson's book--Quarrel with\n  Oswald--Baron Mure's sons--Project of continuing the History--\n  Ministerial convulsions--Hume's conduct to his Family--His\n  Brother--His Nephews--Baron Hume--Blacklock--Smollett--Church\n  Patronage--Gibbon--Robertson--Elliot--Gilbert Stuart--The\n  Douglas Cause--Andrew Stewart--Morellet--Return to Scotland.     382\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n1771-1776. \u00c6T. 60-65.\n\n  Hume's social character--His conversation--His disposition--\n  Traditional anecdotes regarding him--Correspondence--Letter\n  about the Pretender--Gilbert Stuart's quarrel with Dr. Henry--\n  Commercial State of Scotland--Letter to his nephew on\n  Republicanism--Smith's \"Wealth of Nations\"--Hume's illness--\n  His Will--Smith appointed Literary Executor--Strahan\n  substituted--His journey to England with Home--Prospects of\n  Death--Communications with his Friends and Relations--His\n  Death--General view of his influence on Thought and Action.      437\n\nINDEX.                                                             523\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[vi:A] By mistake two chapters have been numbered XIV.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LIFE\n\nOF\n\nDAVID HUME.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n1756-1759. \u00c6T. 45-48.\n\n     The second volume of the History of the Stuarts--His Apologies\n     for his Treatment of Religion--The Four Dissertations--The Two\n     Suppressed Dissertations--Resigns his Office of Librarian--\n     Home's Douglas--Commences the History of the Tudors--Wilkie's\n     Epigoniad--Hume's Nationalism--Warburton--Colonel Edmondstoune--\n     Dr. Robertson--Negotiations as to Ferguson's Chair--Hume goes\n     to London--Writes letters of Fictitious and Extravagant News--\n     Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments--Publication of the History\n     of the House of Tudor--General View of the Constitutional\n     Principles of the History.\n\n\nWe have now followed the personal history of David Hume through nearly\ntwenty years of authorship. We have seen him approach the tribunal of\npublic opinion with the strongest internal assurance of success, and in\na form so different from that of his predecessors, as a high reliance on\nhis own powers could alone have prompted. Baffled in the first, and in\nthe second, and in the third attempt, he still persevered; and while the\ncoldness of each reception showed him that his last effort had proved a\nfailure, it never extinguished the fire of literary ardour which he felt\nburning within him, or quenched the hope, that it would one day blaze\nforth before the world. It is only towards the termination of this long\nperiod of laborious authorship that we find the philosopher's early\nvisions of intellectual greatness beginning to be fulfilled. At the\nperiod at which we have now arrived, his name was famous over Europe. It\nwas a fame that, once spread abroad, was not soon to die; for those to\nwhom his name was first made known in his new popular work, speedily\ndiscovered that, in his earliest neglected effort, he had laid the\nfoundation of a still surer claim on their admiration, and justified the\nsagacity with which, in the pride and strength of youthful genius, he\nhad thrown its first fruits before the world unaided and unadvised.\n\nThe year 1756 seems to have been in a great measure devoted by Hume to\nthe printing of the second volume of his History, to which the following\nletters to Millar refer. A great part of the correspondence with this\nsagacious publisher relates to minute business arrangements. It is\npresumed, that the reader may wish to see some specimens of the manner\nin which Hume transacted such matters, but that he will not care to have\nthe whole of the arrangements between the author and publisher laid\nbefore him. A few specimens of the business part of the letters are\naccordingly selected, while those portions which have any general\ninterest, literary, philosophical, or political, are given in full. The\nreader will see, perhaps, with some surprise, that he was very anxious\nto subject his style to the critical eye of Mallet. We shall hereafter\nhave to disclose some curious features of his literary intercourse with\nthis extraordinary person.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 22d September, 1756._\n\n\"Mr. Strahan, in a few days, will have finished the printing this\nvolume; and I hope you will find leisure, before the hurry of winter,\nto peruse it, and to write me your remarks on it. I fancy you will\npublish about the middle of November. I must desire you to take the\ntrouble of distributing a few copies to my friends in London, and of\nsending me a few copies here. The whole will be fifteen copies.\n\n\"Notwithstanding Mr. Mallet's impertinence in not answering my letter,\n(for it deserves no better a name,) if you can engage him from yourself\nto mark on the perusal such slips of language as he thinks I have fallen\ninto in this volume, it will be a great obligation to me: I mean that I\nshall lie under an obligation to you; for I would not willingly owe any\nto him. I am, dear sir, your most humble servant.\"[3:1]\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 4th December, 1756._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I have two of yours before me, and should have answered them\nsooner, had not Mr. Dalrymple told me that he would come to a\nresolution, in a few days, about the method of printing his volume. As\nsoon as he does so, I shall write you.\n\n\"I am certainly very well satisfied with your sale, which I hope\ncontinues. Lord Lyttelton's objection is not well grounded; I have not\ncontradicted that story betwixt Shaftesbury and Clifford: I have only\nomitted it. It stands only on Burnet's authority, who is very careless\nand inaccurate. I believe I could convince both you and him that it was\nwithout foundation. I am very glad that Mr. Mallet has marked those\nexpressions which appeared Scotticisms. You could not do me a greater\npleasure than to procure me a list of them. I beg of you to employ all\nyour interest with him to that purpose. I am very anxious to see them\nsoon, that I may examine them at leisure, and correct them in all my\nwritings. A very little time would suffice for him to take down the page\nand the line and the expression. If counting the line were too\ntroublesome, he would oblige me by only marking the page and the\nexpression; I would easily find it.\n\n\"I had a conversation, yesterday, with Messrs. Kincaid and Donaldson,\nwhen I made them a proposal, which, I hope, will be for both your\nadvantage. They told me that you had only about four hundred complete\nsets of my philosophical writings. I am extremely desirous to have these\nfour volumes, with that which you will publish this winter, brought into\na quarto volume. They said that the small size was rather more proper\nfor their sale; and, therefore, they would gladly take, at present, two\nhundred sets of the four volumes, to be paid for by so many of their\nshares in the quarto edition as would be an equivalent; that is, if the\nquarto volume were sold at the same price with the four volumes, then\nset for set: if at more, then such allowance to be made as, upon\ncalculation, would appear to be an equivalent. If the History meet with\nsuccess, it will certainly quicken the sale of the philosophical\nwritings; and the taking two hundred sets from you, leaves you so small\na number on hand, as gives you a certain prospect of coming soon to a\nnew edition. Though some odd copies of particular volumes remain on\nhand, there is no great matter, as they may be disposed of with a small\ndiscount. If you agree to this proposal, they empowered me to desire you\nto put the two hundred copies on board a ship with the first occasion,\nand to write them a letter, by which they may be sure that there is no\nmistake in the conditions. The bringing these scattered pieces into one\nvolume will, of itself, quicken the sale; and every new edition has\nnaturally that effect.\n\n\"I again recommend to you, very earnestly, the procuring me that favour\nfrom Mr. Mallet. It is not possible that he can refuse you. I wish I had\ndesired you to ask the same favour of Mr. Reid, to whom please to make\nmy compliments. I am, dear sir, your most obedient servant.\"[5:1]\n\n\nThe second volume of the History, bringing down the narrative to the\nRevolution, was published in 1756. \"This performance,\" says Hume in his\n\"own life,\" alluding to the previous volume, \"happened to give less\ndispleasure to the Whigs, and was better received. It not only rose\nitself, but helped to buoy up its unfortunate brother.\"\n\nThe manner in which he had characterized the different religious bodies,\nwhose conduct he had to describe, gave offence to many readers, and was\nafterwards matter of regret to himself. The toleration which forbids us\nto punish our neighbour on account of his creed, he had fully learned.\nThat still higher toleration, which forbids us to treat our neighbour's\nreligious creed with disrespect, he had not yet acquired. He always\nspeaks of the extreme Independents and Presbyterians as enthusiasts.\nWith this term, not in itself opprobrious, because, though it implies\nexcess, it does not imply the excess of a bad quality, he, on some\noccasions, associates the word fanaticism, and other expressions having\na like sarcastic, or at least slighting tendency. To the Roman Catholic\nreligion he was still less respectful, generally speaking of it\nas \"the Catholic superstition.\"[5:2] In his \"Natural History\nof Religion,\" published in 1757, he used the same offensive\nexpressions, and spoke of the ceremonies and essential doctrines\nof the church of Rome, in a tone which no sincere member of that\nchurch can encounter without painful feelings. In this respect he\ncertainly did not act up to the character of a true philosopher,\nthough his expressions are no doubt in harmony with the general\ntone of his mind. He certainly had no wish to insult any man's\ncreed, but he never dreamed that, among his readers, there might\nbe some who sympathized deeply with the catholic spirit of the\ngothic ages, or with the independent temper of the covenanters.\nOne whose mind revolted so nervously against whatever was not\nstamped with the character of profound philosophy, or of brilliant\nintellect, could see nothing to admire in the adaptation of the\ncatholic system to the dark ages in which it flourished; and would\nhave little respect for such achievements as it gained in the war\nwith barbarous minds and brutal passions.[6:1]\n\nIn Scotland, the Episcopal Church was at that time barely tolerated; and\nmany an outcry against this toleration, as one of the sins of the time,\nmade its adherents daily fear that their freedom of conscience might be\nmade still more narrow. For the Roman Catholics there was no toleration\nin the proper acceptation of the term. Had their priesthood mingled in\nthe ordinary society of Edinburgh, and had Hume become acquainted with\nthem as he afterwards was with the clergy of France, he would perhaps\nhave blushed to write as he did, of the creed of learned and\naccomplished men. In his subsequent editions, he carefully cleansed his\nHistory of these offensive expressions, substituting in general the word\n\"creed\" or \"religion,\" instead of superstition.\n\nThe coincidence of his metaphysical opinions, with those of a\nconsiderable portion of the Presbyterians, has already been noticed; and\nhis desire to strip religion of all forms and symbols, would seem to\npoint out the Presbyterian system as that with which he should naturally\nhave had the greatest sympathy. But he disliked enthusiasm or zeal,\nwhatever were the opinions of the zealots; and therefore he invariably\nmarks with censure the extreme views of that religious party. In the\nEnglish church, on the other hand, he met with a larger proportion of\nlearned, accomplished, and gentlemanlike men. Among persons, too, many\nof whom were tempted to assume the sacerdotal character by its\nemoluments, not by its duties, he found a tolerable portion of that\nphilosophical indifference, which it is to be feared he looked upon as\nno blemish in a clergyman's character. In the Church of England, his\nsympathies were thus with the insincere.[9:1] Where there was sincere\nbelief, but not to the extent of enthusiasm, the clergy of the Church of\nScotland would have the largest share of his confidence. Accordingly, we\nfind that he had formed a warm intimacy with many of the members of the\n\"moderate\" party in that church. His own good taste and sense of\ncolloquial politeness, would suggest to him the propriety of avoiding,\nwhether in correspondence or conversation, all forms of expression or\nenunciations of opinion, such as it would be unbecoming in a clergyman\nto hear without reproving. On the other hand, his correspondence with\nthe clergy bears traces of his having made it part of the understanding\non which their intercourse was to be based, that they were not to make\nhim a subject for the exercise of their calling; and that they were to\nabstain from all efforts of conversion, and all discussion of religious\nsubjects. Hence, although there are many observations on church politics\nin his correspondence with his reverend friends, religion is a matter\nnever mentioned.\n\nBefore he published his second volume, Hume felt conscious of the\nimpropriety of the tone he had adopted in the first, towards religious\ncreeds. In a letter to Dr. Clephane, he says,--\"I am convinced that\nwhatever I have said of religion should have received some more\nsoftenings. There is no passage in the History which strikes in the\nleast at revelation. But as I run over all the sects successively, and\nspeak of each of them with some mark of disregard, the reader, putting\nthe whole together, concludes that I am of no sect; which to him will\nappear the same thing as the being of no religion. With regard to\npolitics and the character of princes and great men, I think I am very\nmoderate. My views of _things_ are more conformable to Whig principles;\nmy representations of _persons_ to Tory prejudices. Nothing can so much\nprove that men commonly regard more persons than things, as to find that\nI am commonly numbered among the Tories.\"[11:1]\n\nThe following paper is evidently a draft of a preface, which, in the\nconsciousness that some apology was called for in connexion with this\nsubject, he intended to prefix to the second volume. He afterwards\npublished a great part of the substance of it in a note towards the end\nof the volume: but there is sufficient difference in the contents of the\ntwo papers to make the following a distinct object of interest.\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n     It ought to be no matter of offence, that in this volume, as\n     well as in the foregoing, the mischiefs which arise from the\n     abuses of religion are so often mentioned, while so little in\n     comparison is said of the salutary consequences which result\n     from true and genuine piety. The proper office of religion is\n     to reform men's lives, to purify their hearts, to enforce all\n     moral duties, and to secure obedience to the laws and civil\n     magistrate. While it pursues these useful purposes, its\n     operations, though infinitely valuable, are secret and silent,\n     and seldom come under the cognisance of history. That\n     adulterate species of it alone, which inflames faction,\n     animates sedition, and prompts rebellion, distinguishes itself\n     in the open theatre of the world. Those, therefore, who\n     attempt to draw inferences disadvantageous to religion from\n     the abuses of it mentioned by historians, proceed upon a very\n     gross, and a very obvious fallacy; for, besides that every\n     thing is liable to abuse, and the best things the most so, the\n     beneficent influence of religion is not to be sought for in\n     history. That principle is always the more pure and genuine,\n     the less figure it makes in the annals of war, politics,\n     intrigues, and revolutions, quarrels, and convulsions; which\n     it is the business of an historian to record and transmit to\n     posterity.\n\n     It ought as little to be matter of offence, that no religious\n     sect is mentioned in this work without being exposed sometimes\n     to some note of blame and disapprobation. The frailties of\n     our nature mingle themselves with every thing in which we\n     are employed, and no human institutions will ever reach\n     perfection, the idea of an infinite mind. The author of the\n     universe seems at first sight to require a worship absolutely\n     pure, simple, unadorned, without rites, institutions,\n     ceremonies; even without temples, priests, or verbal prayer\n     and supplication. Yet has this species of devotion been often\n     found to degenerate into the most dangerous fanaticism. When\n     we have recourse to the aid of the senses and imagination, in\n     order to adapt our religion in some degree to human infirmity,\n     it is very difficult, and almost impossible, to prevent\n     altogether the intrusion of superstition, or keep men from\n     laying too great stress on the ceremonial and ornamental parts\n     of their worship. Of all the sects into which Christians have\n     been divided, the Church of England seems to have chosen the\n     most happy medium; yet it will undoubtedly be allowed, that\n     during the age of which these volumes treat, there was a\n     tincture of superstition in the partisans of the hierarchy, as\n     well as a strong mixture of enthusiasm in their antagonists.\n     But it is the nature of the latter principle soon to evaporate\n     and decay. A spirit of moderation usually succeeds in a little\n     to the fervours of zeal; and it must be acknowledged, to the\n     honour of the present Presbyterians, Independents, and other\n     sectaries of this island, that they resemble in little more\n     than in name their predecessors, who flourished during the\n     civil wars, and who were the authors of such disorders. It\n     would appear ridiculous in the eyes of the judicious part of\n     mankind, to pretend that even the first reformers, in most\n     countries of Europe, did not carry matters to a most violent\n     extreme, and were not on many occasions liable to the\n     imputation of fanaticism. Not to mention that uncharitable\n     spirit which accompanies zealots of all kinds, and which led\n     the early reformers, almost universally, to inflict upon the\n     Catholics, and on all who differed from them, the same rigours\n     of which they themselves so loudly complained.\n\n     These hints, however obvious, the author thought proper to\n     suggest, with regard to the free and impartial manner in which\n     he has treated religious controversy. As to the civil and\n     political part of his performance, he scorns to suggest any\n     apology, where he thinks himself entitled to approbation. To\n     be above the temptation of interest is a species of virtue,\n     which we do not find by experience to be very common; but to\n     neglect at the same time all popular and vulgar applause, is\n     an enterprise much more rare and arduous. Whoever, in a\n     factious nation, pays court to neither party, must expect that\n     justice will be done him by time only, perhaps only by a\n     distant posterity.[13:1]\n\nThe \"Natural History of Religion\" above referred to, remarkable even\namong its author's other works, for the breadth of its research, and its\napt union of philosophy with historical detail, was published in 1757,\nalong with three other essays;[13:2] and a curious incident connected\nwith this publication has now to be revealed. In 1783, a work was\npublished in London, called \"Essays on Suicide and the Immortality of\nthe Soul, ascribed to the late David Hume, Esq., never before published;\nwith remarks, intended as an antidote to the poison contained in these\nperformances, by the Editor.\" The editor and his antidote are now both\nforgotten: but the style of Hume and his method of thinking were at once\nrecognised in these essays, and they have been incorporated with the\ngeneral edition of his works. If any doubt attached to the authorship,\nit would be cleared up by some allusions in his subsequent\ncorrespondence, where we shall find him naturally expressing alarm at\nthe circumstance of Wilkes having, through the negligence of Millar, had\npossession of a copy containing the two suppressed essays. Many copies,\nindeed, of the first edition of the dissertations bear marks of having\nbeen mutilated.[14:1] That Hume wrote these essays, and intended to\npublish them, is thus an incident in his life which ought not to be\npassed over; but it is also part of his history, that he repented of the\nact at the last available moment, and suppressed the publication.\n\nThat after the ghastly scene which he witnessed twenty years\nearlier,[14:2] he should have written on suicide with his usual\nphilosophical indifference, and contempt for the prevalent sentiments\nand feelings of mankind, is a remarkable proof how little he was liable\nto ordinary imaginative impressions; how completely he was free of\nsubjection to those\n\n                   \"lords of the visionary eye, whose lid\n     Once raised remains aghast, and will not fall.\"\n\nIt may safely be pronounced, that had he widened the circle of his\nutilitarian theory, and embraced within it, as he might have done,\nHutcheson's theory of universal benevolence, he never would have\npalliated self-slaughter. He looked at it only in relation to the person\nwho perpetrates the act. The utilitarian principle, however, should have\nsuggested to him the misery caused to surviving relatives by one such\ndeed, the horrible uncertainty that must pervade any society where it is\ncommon; and he would have felt that no single life can be so dreadful a\nburden to the owner as to justify him in causing such an amount of evil\nto the rest of the world, as he would produce by casting it away. The\nresult of modern reading and inquiry into vital statistics, is to show\nthat the desire of longevity, which the author of our being has\nimplanted in all bosoms, is an adaptation to universal utility; because\nit is from premature deaths, produced by violence or disease, that\ncommunities are burdened with those unproductive members of society,\nwhich in a healthy and long-lived community, receive domestic support\nfrom the productive members.[15:1]\n\nThe reasonings of an enthusiast have generally more plausibility than\nthose of a philosopher who has gone astray from his own theory; for the\nstraying philosopher speaks like one who has misgivings; while the\nenthusiast never doubts that he is in the right, and urges his opinions\nwith a corresponding confidence and sincerity. Thus the justification of\nsuicide which Rousseau puts into a letter from St. Preux to Lord Edward\nBomston, is a far more attractive vindication than that which Hume had\nintended to publish.\n\nThis was not the only suppression connected with the publication of the\nDissertations. As at first printed, they were preceded by an\naffectionate and laudatory dedication to John Home. Before the edition\nwas published, this dedication was suppressed; because Hume thought it\nmight injure his friend, in the estimation of his brethren of the\nchurch. Before the edition was sold, however, Hume desired the\ndedication to be restored. This step was probably owing to Home having\nintimated to him his design of resigning his charge as minister of\nAthelstaneford, which he did in June, 1757. This not only removed the\nobjection to the dedication, but as it severed the dramatic martyr from\nhis professional brethren, it made him more dependant on the sympathy\nand suffrages of other friends, and rendered Hume's testimony to his\nmerits more valuable.\n\nHe thus writes on this subject to Smith.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n[16:1]\"DEAR SMITH,--The dedication to John Home, you have probably seen;\nfor I find it has been inserted in some of the weekly papers, both here\nand in London. Some of my friends thought it was indiscreet in me to\nmake myself responsible to the public, for the productions of another.\nBut the author had lain under such singular and unaccountable\nobstructions in his road to fame, that I thought it incumbent on his\nwellwishers to go as much out of the common road to assist him. I\nbelieve the composition of the dedication will be esteemed very prudent,\nand not inelegant.\n\n\"I can now give you the satisfaction of hearing that the play, though\nnot near so well acted in Covent Garden as in this place, is likely to\nbe very successful. Its great intrinsic merit breaks through all\nobstacles. When it shall be printed, (which will be soon,) I am\npersuaded it will be esteemed the best, and by French critics the only\ntragedy of our language! This encouragement will no doubt engage the\nauthor to go on in the same career. He meets with great countenance in\nLondon, and, I hope, will soon be rendered independent in his fortune.\n\n\"Did you ever hear of such madness and folly as our clergy have lately\nfallen into? For my part, I expect that the next Assembly will very\nsolemnly pronounce the sentence of excommunication against me; but I do\nnot apprehend it to be a matter of any consequence; what do you think?\n\n\"I am somewhat idle at present, and somewhat undetermined as to my next\nundertaking. Shall I go backwards or forwards in my History? I think you\nused to tell me, that you approved more of my going backwards. The other\nwould be the more popular subject; but I am afraid that I shall not find\nmaterials sufficient to ascertain the truth--at least, without settling\nin London, which, I own, I have some reluctance to. I am settled here\nvery much to my mind; and would not wish, at my years, to change the\nplace of my abode.\n\n\"I have just now received a copy of 'Douglas' from London; it will\ninstantly be put in the press. I hope to be able to send you a copy in\nthe same parcel with the dedication.\"[18:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 20th January, 1757._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--The dedication of my Dissertations to Mr. Hume[18:2] was\nshown to some of his friends here, men of very good sense, who were\nseized with an apprehension that it would hurt that party in the church,\nwith which he had always been connected, and would involve him, and them\nof consequence, in the suspicion of infidelity. Neither he nor I were in\nthe least affected with their panic; but to satisfy them, we agreed to\nstand by the arbitration of one person, of great rank and of known\nprudence; and I promised them to write to you to suspend the publication\nfor one post, in case you should have resolved to publish it presently.\nNext post you shall be sure to hear from me; and if we be obliged to\nsuppress it, you'll be pleased to place the charges of print and paper\nto my account. I indorse this day your two bills to Mr. Alexander\nCunningham. I am,\" &c.\n\n\nEarly in 1757, Hume resigned his office of librarian of the Advocates'\nLibrary. As a verbal intimation of his wishing to leave this situation\nwas not considered satisfactory, he favoured his learned employers with\nthe following laconic letter:--\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, January 8, 1757._\n\n\"SIR,--A few days ago, I sent the Faculty a verbal resignation; but as I\nam told that it is expected I should give a resignation under my hand,\nand as I am very desirous to deliver over the charge of the library as\nsoon as possible, I have been induced to write you at present, and beg\nof you to inform the Faculty, that they may choose me a successor\nwhenever they think proper. I am, sir, your most humble servant.[19:1]\n\n\"_To Mr. Charles Binning,\nVice-Dean of the Faculty of Advocates._\"\n\n\nHUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.\n\n\"DEAR MURE,--I hope you do not think yourself obliged, by saying civil\nthings, to make atonement for the too homely truths, which you told me\nformerly. I will not believe so. I take for granted, that you are\nequally sincere in both: though I must own that I think my first volume\na great deal better than the second. The subject admitted of more\neloquence, and of greater nicety of reasoning, and more acute\ndistinctions. The opposition, I may say the rage, with which it was\nreceived by the public, I must confess, did not a little surprise me.\nWhatever knowledge I pretend to in history, and human affairs, I had not\nso bad an opinion of men as to expect that candour, disinterestedness,\nand humanity, could entitle me to that treatment. Yet such was my fate.\nAfter a long interval, I at last collected so much courage, as to renew\nmy application to the second volume, though with infinite disgust and\nreluctance; and I am sensible that, in many passages of it, there are\ngreat signs of that disposition, and that my usual fire does not every\nwhere appear. At other times, I excited myself, and perhaps succeeded\nbetter.\n\n     Exul eram; requiesque mihi, non fama, petita est;\n       Mens intenta suis, ne foret usque malis.\n     Nam simul ac mea caluerant pectora musae,\n       Altior humano spiritus ille malo est.[20:1]\n\n\"I leave you to judge whether your letter came in a very seasonable\ntime. I own that I had the weakness to be affected by it, when I found\nthat a person, whose judgment I very much valued, could tell me, though\nI was not asking his opinion----But I will not proceed any farther. The\nmatter gave me uneasiness at the time, though without the least\nresentment. At present the uneasiness is gone; and all my usual\nfriendship, confirmed by years and long acquaintance, still remains.\n\n\"Pray, whether do you pity or blame me most, with regard to this\ndedication of my Dissertations to my friend, the poet? I am sure I never\nexecuted any thing which was either more elegant in the composition, or\nmore generous in the intention; yet such an alarm seized some fools\nhere, (men of very good sense, but fools in that particular,) that they\nassailed both him and me with the utmost violence; and engaged us to\nchange our intention. I wrote to Millar to suppress that dedication; two\nposts after, I retracted that order. Can any thing be more unlucky than\nthat, in the interval of these four days, he should have opened his\nsale, and disposed of eight hundred copies, without that dedication,\nwhence, I imagined, my friend would reap some advantage, and myself so\nmuch honour? I have not been so heartily vexed at any accident of a long\ntime. However, I have insisted that the dedication shall still be\npublished.\n\n\"I am a little uncertain what work I shall next undertake; for I do not\ncare to be long idle. I think you seem to approve of my going forward:\nand I am sensible that the subject is much more interesting to us, and\neven will be so to posterity, than any other I could choose: but can I\nhope that there are materials for composing a just and sure history of\nit? I am afraid not. However, I shall examine the matter. I fancy it\nwill be requisite for me to take a journey to London, and settle there\nfor some time, in order to gather such materials as are not to be found\nin print. But, if I should go backwards, and write the History of\nEngland from the accession of Henry the Seventh, I might remain where I\nam; and I own to you, at my time of life, these changes of habitation\nare not agreeable, even though the place be better to which one removes.\n\n\"I am sorry my fair cousin does not find London so agreeable as,\nperhaps, she expected. She must not judge by one winter. It will improve\nagainst next winter, and appear still better the winter after that.\nPlease make my compliments to her, and tell her that she must not be\ndiscouraged. By the by, Mrs. Binnie tells me that she writes her a very\ndifferent account of matters, so that I find my cousin is a hypocrite.\n\n\"I shall make use of your criticisms, and wish there had been more of\nthem. That practice of doubling the genitive is certainly very\nbarbarous, and I carefully avoided it in the first volume; but I find it\nso universal a practice, both in writing and speaking, that I thought it\nbetter to comply with it, and have even changed all the passages in the\nfirst volume, in conformity to use. All languages contain solecisms of\nthat kind.\n\n\"Please make my compliments to Sir Harry Erskine, and tell him that I\nhave executed what I proposed. I am,\" &c.[22:1]\n\n\nThe following letter shows that he did not long remain idle, or\nundecided in his historical projects:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 20th May, 1757._\n\n\"I have already begun, and am a little advanced in a third volume of\nHistory. I do not preclude myself from the view of going forward to the\nperiod after the Revolution; but, at present, I begin with the reign of\nHenry the Seventh. It is properly at that period modern history\ncommences. America was discovered; commerce extended; the arts\ncultivated; printing invented; religion reformed, and all the\ngovernments of Europe almost changed. I wish, therefore, I had begun\nhere at first. I should have obviated many objections that were made to\nthe other volumes. I shall be considerably advanced in this volume\nbefore I be in London.\n\n\"I come now to speak to you of an affair which gives me uneasiness, and\nwhich I mention with reluctance. I am told that one Dr. Brown has\npublished a book in London, where there is a note containing personal\nreflections on me, for which he quotes a letter I wrote to you.[23:1]\nWhat sort of behaviour this is, to make use of a private letter, without\nthe permission of the person to whom it was addressed, is easily\nconceived; but how he came to see any of my letters, I cannot imagine;\nnor what I wrote, that could give him any handle for his calumny. All I\ncan recollect of the matter is this, that above two years ago, when\nBailie Hamilton was in London, he wrote me, that the stop in the sale of\nmy History proceeded from some strokes of irreligion, which had raised\nthe cry of the clergy against me. This gave me occasion to remark to\nyou, that the Bailie's complaint must have proceeded from his own\nmisconduct; that the cause he assigned could never have produced that\neffect; that it was rather likely to increase the sale, according to all\npast experience; that you had offered (as I heard) a large sum for\nBolingbroke's Works, trusting to this consequence; and that the strokes\ncomplained of were so few, and of such small importance, that, if any\nill effects could have been apprehended from them, they might easily\nhave been retrenched. As far as I can recollect, this was the purport of\nmy letter;[24:1] but I must beg you, that you would cause it to be\ntranscribed, and send me a copy of it, for I find by John Hume that you\nhave it still by you. I doubt not but I could easily refute Dr. Brown;\nbut as I had taken a resolution never to have the least altercation with\nthese fellows, I shall not readily be brought to pay any attention to\nhim; and I cannot but be displeased that your inadvertence or\nindiscretion (for I cannot give it a better name) should have brought me\nto this dilemma. I fancy Brown will find it a difficult matter to\npersuade the public that I do not speak my sentiments in every subject I\nhandle, and that I have any view to any interest whatsoever. I leave\nthat to him and his gang: for he is a flatterer, as I am told, of that\nlow fellow, Warburton; and any thing so low as Warburton, or his\nflatterers, I should certainly be ashamed to engage with. I am, &c.\n\n\"P.S. Since you are acquainted with Dr. Brown, I must beg of you to read\nthis letter to him; for it is probably, or indeed certainly, all the\nanswer I shall ever deign to give him.\"[25:1]\n\n\nThe reader will feel interested in the sketch, by the pen of Hume, of an\neminent contemporary--his friend Wilkie--in the following letter.\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 3d July, 1757._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--To show you that I am not such an affecter of singularity as\nto entertain prejudices against ministers of state,[25:2] I am resolved\nto congratulate you on your return to power, and to express my wishes,\nthat, both for your sake and the public's, your ministry, and that of\nyour friends, may be more durable than it was before. We even hope it\nwill, though the strange motley composition which it consists of, gives\nus some apprehensions. However, we are glad to find, from past\nexperience, that you can neither rise nor fall, without credit and\nreputation. You know that, according to the whimsical way in this\ncountry, it is more difficult to rise than fall with reputation.\n\n\"I suppose that, by this time, you have undoubtedly read and admired the\nwonderful production of the Epigoniad, and that you have so much love\nfor arts, and for your native country, as to be very industrious in\npropagating the fame of it. It is certainly a most singular production,\nfull of sublimity and genius, adorned by a noble, harmonious, forcible,\nand even correct versification. We generally think the story deficient\nand uninteresting; but perhaps the new fancy of crossing the invention\nof all modern romance-writers may make some atonement, and even bestow\nan air of novelty on the imitation of Homer. As I cannot but hope that\nthis work will soon become the subject of conversation in London, I\nshall take this opportunity of supplying you with some anecdotes with\nregard to the author, besides such as you already know,--of his being a\nvery worthy and a very entertaining man, adorned with all that\nsimplicity of manners, so common to great men, and even with some of\nthat rusticity and negligence which serve to abate that envy to which\nthey are so much exposed.\n\n\"You know he is a farmer's son, in the neighbourhood of this town, where\nthere are a great number of pigeon-houses. The farmers are very much\ninfested with the pigeons, and Wilkie's father planted him often as a\nscarecrow (an office for which he is well qualified) in the midst of his\nfields of wheat. It was in this situation that he confessed he first\nconceived the design of his epic poem, and even executed part of it. He\ncarried out his Homer with him, together with a table, and pen and ink,\nand a great rusty gun. He composed and wrote two or three lines, till a\nflock of pigeons settled in the field, then rose up, ran towards them,\nand fired at them; returned again to his former station, and added a\nrhyme or two more, till he met with a fresh interruption.\n\n\"Two or three years ago, Jemmy Russel put a very pleasant trick on an\nEnglish physician, one Dr. Roebuck, who was travelling in this country.\nRussel carried him out one day on horseback to see the outlets of the\ntown, and purposely led him by Wilkie's farm. He saw the bard at a\nsmall distance, sowing his corn, with a sheet about him, all besmeared\nwith dirt and sweat, with a coat and visage entirely proportioned to his\noccupation. Russel says to his companion, 'Here is a fellow, a peasant,\nwith whom I have some business: let us call him.' He made a sign, and\nWilkie came to them: some questions were asked him with regard to the\nseason, to his farm and husbandry, which he readily answered; but soon\ntook an opportunity of digressing to the Greek poets, and enlarging on\nthat branch of literature. Dr. Roebuck, who had scarce understood his\nrustic English, or rather his broad Scotch, immediately comprehended\nhim, for his Greek was admirable; and on leaving him, he could not\nforbear expressing the highest admiration to Russel, that a clown, a\nrustic, a mere hind, such as he saw this fellow was, should be possessed\nof so much erudition. 'Is it usual,' says he, 'for your peasants in\nScotland to read the Greek poets?'--'O Yes,' replies Russel, very\ncoolly, 'we have long winter evenings; and in what can they employ\nthemselves better, than in reading the Greek poets?' Roebuck left the\ncountry in a full persuasion that there are at least a dozen farmers in\nevery parish who read Homer, Hesiod, and Sophocles, every\nwinter-evening, to their families; and, if ever he writes an account of\nhis travels, it is likely he will not omit so curious a circumstance.\n\n\"Wilkie is now a settled minister at Ratho, within four miles of the\ntown.[27:1] He possesses about \u00a380 or \u00a390 a-year, which he esteems\nexorbitant riches. Formerly, when he had only \u00a320, as helper, he said\nthat he could not conceive what article, either of human convenience or\npleasure he was deficient in, nor what any man could mean by desiring\nmore money. He possesses several branches of erudition, besides the\nGreek poetry; and, particularly, is a very profound geometrician, a\nscience commonly very incompatible with the lively imagination of a\npoet. He has even made some new discoveries in that science; and he told\nme, that, when a young man, he threw cross and pile, whether he should\ndevote himself chiefly to mathematics or to poetry, and fears that\nrather he crossed the bent of his genius in taking to the latter. Yet\nthis man, who has composed the second epic poem in our language!\nunderstands so little of orthography, that, regularly through the whole\npoem, he spelled the word yield in this manner, 'ealde;' and I had great\ndifficulty to convince him of his mistake.\n\n\"I fancy our friend, Robertson, will be able to publish his History next\nwinter. You are sufficiently acquainted with the merit of this work; and\nreally it is admirable how many men of genius this country produces at\npresent. Is it not strange that, at a time when we have lost our\nprinces, our parliaments, our independent government,--even the presence\nof our chief nobility; are unhappy, in our accent and pronunciation;\nspeak a very corrupt dialect of the tongue we make use of,--is it not\nstrange, I say, that, in these circumstances, we should really be the\npeople most distinguished for literature in Europe?\n\n\"Having spoke so much to Mr. Elliot, the man of letters, you must now\nallow me to say a few words to Mr. Elliot, the lord of the admiralty.\nThere is a cousin-german of mine, Alexander Edgar, who is midshipman in\nthe Vestal, off Harwich, and has passed his trials, above four months\nago, for a lieutenantcy. He always behaved well in all his service,\nwhich has been very long; and, almost from his infancy, he has had the\ngood-will, and even friendship, of all his captains; is modest, sober,\nfrugal, and attentive, and very deserving of promotion. I recommended\nhim to Mr. Oswald, who always protected him, but can no longer be of\nservice to him. He is of a very good family, though his father spent his\nestate and died a bankrupt; and the poor lad has now scarce any other\nfriends than what I can procure him: permit me the freedom of\nrecommending him to your protection. If I did not think him worthy of\nit, I should not venture to do so, notwithstanding his near relationship\nto me. I think I ought to make some apologies for this liberty I use\nwith you; but I think it would be wronging our friendship to make too\nmany. I am, dear sir, your most obedient humble servant.\"[29:1]\n\n\nWilkie's Epigoniad, of which few ordinary readers now know more than the\nname, if even that be very generally remembered south of the Tweed,\ninspired many zealous Scotsmen of the day, with the belief that their\ncountry had, at last, produced a great epic poet: but the national\nfeeling was not responded to in England.[29:2]\n\nFinding that the Epigoniad was attacked by the English critics, Hume\nwas determined to be the champion of his countryman's fame against all\ncomers; and accordingly addressed a letter to the editor of _The\nCritical Review_, containing a long complimentary criticism, in which he\nsays,--\n\n     There remained a tradition among the Greeks, that Homer had\n     taken this second siege of Thebes for the subject of a poem,\n     which is lost; and our author seems to have pleased himself\n     with the thoughts of reviving the work, as well as of treading\n     in the footsteps of his favourite author. The actors are\n     mostly the same with those of the Iliad; Diomede is the hero;\n     Ulysses, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Nestor, Idomeneus, Merion, even\n     Thersites, all appear in different passages of the poem; and\n     act parts suitable to the lively characters drawn of them by\n     that great master. The whole turn of this new poem would\n     almost lead us to imagine, that the Scottish bard had found\n     the lost manuscript of that father of poetry, and had made a\n     faithful translation of it into English. Longinus imagines,\n     that the Odyssey was executed by Homer in his old age; we\n     shall allow the Iliad to be the work of his middle age; and we\n     shall suppose that the Epigoniad was the essay of his youth,\n     where his noble and sublime genius breaks forth by frequent\n     intervals, and gives strong symptoms of that constant flame\n     which distinguished its meridian. . . .\n\n     The story of a poem, whatever may be imagined, is the least\n     essential part of it; the force of the versification, the\n     vivacity of the images, the justness of the descriptions, the\n     natural play of the passions, are the chief circumstances\n     which distinguish the great poet from the prosaic novelist,\n     and give him so high a rank among the heroes in literature;\n     and I will venture to affirm, that all these advantages,\n     especially the three former, are to be found, in an eminent\n     degree, in the Epigoniad. The author, inspired with the true\n     genius of Greece, and smit with the most profound veneration\n     for Homer, disdains all frivolous ornaments; and relying\n     entirely on his sublime imagination, and his nervous and\n     harmonious expression, has ventured to present to his reader\n     the naked beauties of nature, and challenges for his partisans\n     all the admirers of genuine antiquity.[31:1]\n\nIn his conduct on this occasion, Hume exhibited strong national\npartiality. It may seem at first sight at variance with some of his\nother characteristics; but it is undoubtedly true, that Hume was imbued\nwith an intense spirit of nationality. It was a nationality, however, of\na peculiar and restricted character. He cared little about the heroism\nof his country, or even its struggles for independence: Wallace, Bruce,\nand the Black Douglas, were, in his eyes, less interesting than Ulysses\nor \u00c6neas,\n\n     ----carent quia vate sacro.\n\nBut in that arena which he thought the greatest, in the theatre where\nintellect exhibits her might, he panted to see his country first and\ngreatest. No Scotsman could write a book of respectable talent without\ncalling forth his loud and warm eulogiums. Wilkie was to be the Homer,\nBlacklock the Pindar, and Home the Shakspere, or something still\ngreater, of his country. On those who were even his rivals in his own\npeculiar walks--Adam Smith, Robertson, Ferguson, and Henry, he heaped\nthe same honest, hearty commendation. He urged them to write; he raised\nthe spirit of literary ambition in their breasts; he found publishers\nfor their works; and, when these were completed, he trumpeted the\npraises of the authors through society.\n\nThe following letter shows how accidentally Hume became acquainted with\na matter, which, according to modern notions, should have formed part of\nhis systematic studies, before he began to write a history of England.\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 9th Aug. 1757._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I can easily perceive that your friends were no lawyers, who\nsaid that there was no statute in Henry the Seventh's reign, which\nfacilitated the alienation of lands, and broke the ancient entails: it\nis 4 Hen. VII. cap. 24; but a man may read that passage fifty times, and\nnot find any thing that seems, in the least, to point that way. I should\ncertainly have overlooked the meaning of it, had I not been guided by\nLord Kames. You must know that it was a practice in the courts of\njustice, before Henry the Seventh's time, to break entails by a device\nwhich seems very ridiculous, but which is continued to this day, and\nfirst received the sanction of law during the reign of that prince. You\nhave an entailed estate, I suppose, and want to break the entail. You\nagree with me that I am to claim the estate by a sham title, prior to\nthe first entailer; you confess in court that my title is good and\nvalid; the judges, upon this confession of the party, adjudge the estate\nto me; upon which I immediately restore the estate to you, free and\nunencumbered; and by this hocus-pocus the entail is broke.--Such was the\npractice, pretty common before Henry the Seventh. All that the\nparliament then did, was to regulate the method of proceeding in this\nfine device, and to determine that the titles of minors, and femmes\ncouvert, were not to be injured by it. As to other people, who had an\ninterest to preserve an entail, and who had any good reason to plead in\ntheir own favour, they would naturally appear for themselves. This\npractice is called a fine, and a recovery: fine, from the Latin word\nfinis; because it forecloses all parties, and puts a final issue to\ntheir claims and pretensions: a recovery, because a man thereby recovers\nhis estate, without the encumbrance of an entail.\n\n\"By the bye, I am told, that there are many of these practices still\ncontinued in the law of England; which are as foolish, juvenile, and\nridiculous, as are to be met with in ---- I mean in ---- I would be\nunderstood to mean in ---- any craft or profession of the world.[33:1]\n\n\"I am writing the History of England, from the accession of Henry the\nSeventh, and am some years advanced in Henry the Eighth. I undertook\nthis work because I was tired of idleness, and found reading alone,\nafter I had often perused all good books, (which I think is soon done,)\nsomewhat a languid occupation. As to the approbation or esteem of those\nblockheads who call themselves the public, and whom a bookseller, a\nlord, a priest, or a party can guide, I do most heartily despise it. I\nshall be able, I think, to make a tolerable smooth, well-told tale of\nthe history of England during that period; but I own I have not yet been\nable to throw much new light into it. I begin the Reformation to-morrow.\n\n\"I find the public, with you, have rejected the Epigoniad, for the\npresent. They may do so if they please; but it has a great deal of\nmerit, much more than any one of them is capable of throwing into a\nwork.\n\n\"I disapprove very much of Ferguson's scruples, with regard to entering\ninto Lord Bute's family, with the inspection of more than one boy; but I\nhope Lord Bute will conform himself to his delicacy, at least if he\nwants to have a man of sense, knowledge, taste, elegance, and morals,\nfor a tutor to his son.[34:1]\n\n\"I am obliged to you for your good intentions, with regard to my cousin;\nbut you must express yourself otherwise, than by saying that you will\nconcur with the rest of my friends in endeavouring to promote him; for\nnow that Oswald is out of court, whom have I besides to apply to? Dear\nSir, your most obedient humble servant.\"[34:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 3d September, 1757._\n\n\"As to my opinions, you know I defend none of them positively; I only\npropose my doubts where I am so unhappy as not to receive the same\nconviction with the rest of mankind. It surprises me much to see any\nbody who pretends to be a man of letters, discover anger on that\naccount; since it is certain, by the experience of all ages, that\nnothing contributes more to the progress of learning than such disputes\nand novelties.\n\n\"Apropos to anger; I am positively assured, that Dr. Warburton wrote\nthat letter to himself, which you sent me; and indeed the style\ndiscovers him sufficiently.[35:1] I should answer him; but he attacks so\nsmall a corner of my building, that I can abandon it without drawing\ngreat consequences after it. If he would come into the field and dispute\nconcerning the principal topics of my philosophy, I should probably\naccept the challenge: at present nothing could tempt me to take the pen\nin hand but anger, of which I feel myself incapable, even upon this\nprovocation.\n\n\"I have finished the Index to the new collection of my pieces; this\nIndex cost me more trouble than I was aware of when I began it. I am\nobliged to Mr. Strahan, for the uncommon pains he has taken in making it\ncorrect. The Errata which I have given, consist mostly of small\nalterations in the style, which I made myself. You know I always expect\nhalf-a-dozen of copies on each new edition. I would wish that Mr.\nStrahan would accept of one, as a proof of the sense which I have of his\ncare on this occasion. Please keep one by you, which I fancy I shall\nhave occasion to send abroad; and be so good as to send the other four,\nwith any other parcel you are sending hither. I am very assiduous in\nwriting a new volume of History, and am now pretty well advanced. I find\nthe whole will be comprised in one volume, though somewhat more bulky\nthan any of the former. The period of time is a great deal longer than\nthat of either of the former, but is not near so full of interesting\nmatter; and as the original historians are much fewer, there are not so\nmany circumstances transmitted to us. I am pretty certain, that I shall\nbe able to deliver to you the manuscript about a twelvemonth hence, and\nshall certainly be in London myself for that purpose. You seemed\ndesirous that we should mutually enter into articles about this volume;\nwhich I declined, till I should be so much advanced as to be sure of my\nresolution of executing it, and could judge with some certainty of the\nbulk. Now that I am satisfied in both these particulars, I am willing to\nengage with you for the same price, viz. seven hundred pounds, payable\nthree months after the publication. If you approve of this proposal,\nplease write me a letter for that purpose; and I shall also, in return,\nsend you an obligatory letter. I think this justice is due to you, that\nyou may see I do not intend, on account of any success, to screw up the\nprice, or ask beyond what you have already allowed me, which, I own, was\nvery reasonable.\n\n\"Mr. Dalrymple has paid me twenty pounds and a crown. I can never meet\nwith Mr. Wright, though I call often at his shop. Mr. Balfour does not\nname any day.\n\n\"I am glad of the approbation which Mr. Dalrymple's book meets with; I\nthink it really deserves it.[37:1]\n\n\"Nothing surprises me more than the ill usage which the Epigoniad has\nreceived. Every body here likes it extremely. The plan and story is not\nso much admired, as the poetry and versification; but your critics seem\nwilling to allow it no merit at all. I fancy it has not been enough\ndispersed; and that your engaging on it, would extremely forward its\nsuccess. The whole edition is out. There were five hundred and fifty\ndisposed of here; two hundred sent to London. As the author is my very\ngood friend and acquaintance, I should be much pleased to bring you to\nan understanding together. If the bad success on the first edition has\nnot discouraged you, I would engage him to make you proposals for that\npurpose. He will correct all the blemishes remarked. I should not be\ndispleased that you read to Dr. Warburton, the paragraph in the first\npage of my letter, with regard to himself. The hopes of getting an\nanswer, might probably engage him to give us something farther of the\nsame kind; which, at least, saves you the expense of advertising. I see\nthe doctor likes a literary squabble.\n\n\"I would be glad to know, how near you think you are to a new edition of\nmy History, and whether you intend a duodecimo edition of these\nphilosophical pieces. I am,\" &c.[38:1]\n\n\nDAVID HUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 3d Sept. 1757._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I am charmed to find you so punctual a correspondent. I\nalways knew you to be a good friend, though I was afraid that I had lost\nyou, and that you had joined that great multitude who abused me, and\nreproached me with Paganism, and Jacobitism, and many other wretched\nisms, of which I am only guilty of a part.\n\n\"I believe a man, when he is once an author, is an author for life; for\nI am now very busily engaged in writing another volume of history, and\nhave crept backwards to the reign of Henry the Seventh. I wish indeed\nthat I had begun there; for, by that means, I should have been able,\nwithout making any digression, by the plain course of the narration, to\nhave shown how absolute the authority was which the English kings then\npossessed, and that the Stuarts did little or nothing more than continue\nmatters in the former track, which the people were determined no longer\nto admit. By this means I should have escaped the reproach of the most\nterrible ism of them all, that of Jacobitism. I shall certainly be in\nLondon next summer; and probably to remain there during life; at least,\nif I can settle myself to my mind, which I beg you to have an eye to. A\nroom in a sober, discreet family, who would not be averse to admit a\nsober, discreet, virtuous, frugal, regular, quiet, good-natured man of a\nbad character,--such a room, I say, would suit me extremely, especially\nif I could take most of my meals in the family; and more especially\nstill, if it was not far distant from Dr. Clephane's. I shall then be\nable, dear doctor, to spend \u00a3150 a-year, which is the sum upon which, I\nremember, you formerly undertook me. But I would not have you reckon\nupon _probabilities_, as you then called them, for I am resolved to\nwrite no more. I shall read and correct, and chat and be idle, the rest\nof my life.\n\n\"I must now make room for Sir Harry, who smiles at the sum at which I\nhave set up my rest. I am,\" &c.[39:1]\n\n\nAmong the officers of the Scottish Royal Regiment who served in the\nexpedition to Port L'Orient, and afterwards continued in terms of\nfamiliar acquaintance with Hume, was captain, afterwards Colonel\nEdmondstoune, of Newton in Perthshire. His letters, which were preserved\nby Hume, and will occasionally be cited in these pages, show that he\nwas a man of wit and learning. Frequent allusions to him, under the name\nof Guidelianus, have already occurred in Hume's letters to mutual\nfriends. The following, graceful and thoroughly amiable as it is, is\napparently the earliest of Hume's letters to him which has been\npreserved.\n\n\nHUME _to_ CAPTAIN EDMONDSTOUNE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 29th Sept. 1757._\n\n\"DEAR EDMONDSTOUNE,--I believe it is a rule in law, that any summons\nprevents prescription; and in like manner, that the wakening a process\nkeeps one's rank in the lords' row.[40:1] It is with some such view that\nI now write to you; not to send you a formal letter, which would require\na formal answer, and would therefore get no answer at all: but just to\ntake a shake of your hand, and ask you how you do, and speak a little\nnonsense to you as usual, and then fall into s[ilence] without giving\nmyself the trouble of supporting the conversation any lon[ger]; and, in\na word, keep you from forgetting that you have some such friend in the\nworld as myself.\n\n\"But pray, why did you not write me as you promised and give me your\ndirection? Was you afraid I should write to you? You see I can find out\na method of directing to you without your information.\n\n\"Tell me about the Epigoniad. Was there ever so much fine versification\nbestowed on so indifferent a story? Has it had any success in Ireland? I\nfancy not; for the criticklings in Dublin depend on the criticklings in\nLondon, who depend on the booksellers, who depend on their interest,\nwhich depends on their printing a book themselves. This is the cause why\nWilkie's book is at present neglected, or damned, as they call it: but I\nam much mistaken if it end so. Pray what says the primate of it? I hear\nhe has the generosity to support damned books till the resurrection, and\nthat he is one of the saints who pray them out of purgatory. I hope he\nis an honest fellow and one of [us.] Captain Masterton told me, that he\nwas not quite of my opinion with regard to the 'Douglas,' and that he\nblamed my dedicatory address to the author. But I persist still, and\nwill prove in spite of him and you, and of every man who [wears eit]her\nblack or scarlet, that it is an admirable tragedy, comparable [to the\nexce]llent pieces of the good age of Louis Quatorze. The author is here\nat present, and is refitting his 'Agis' for the theatre, which I hope\nwill have justice done it. _Il est le mieux rent\u00e9 de touts les beaux\nesprits._ He has a pension from his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales,\nas you have probably heard.\n\n\"I hear sometimes from the Doctor, who desires me to tell him something\nabout you. But I am no necromancer; only, as the ancients\nsaid,--_prudentia est qu\u00e6dam divinatio_. I conjecture that you are\nlounging, and reading, and playing at whist, and blaming yourself for\nnot writing letters, and yet persisting in the neglect of your\nduty.\"[41:1]\n\n\nThe following is the second letter in which we find Hume appreciating\nthe merits of his friend and rival, Robertson. There is no passage in\nliterary history, perhaps, more truly dignified, than the perfect\ncordiality and sincere interchange of services between two men, whose\nclaims on the admiration of the world came in so close competition with\neach other.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 6th April, 1758._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am very glad that Mr. Robertson is entering on terms with\nyou. It was indeed my advice to him, when he set out for London, that he\nshould think of no other body; and I ventured to assure him that he\nwould find your way of dealing frank, and open, and generous. He read me\npart of his History, and I had an opportunity of reading another part of\nit in manuscript above a twelvemonth ago. Upon the whole, my\nexpectations, both from what I saw, and from my knowledge of the author,\nwere very much raised, and I consider it as a work of uncommon merit. I\nknow that he has employed himself with great diligence and care in\ncollecting the facts: his style is lively and entertaining; and he\njudges with temper and candour. He is a man generally known and esteemed\nin this country: and we look upon him very deservedly as inferior to\nnobody in capacity and learning. Hamilton and Balfour have offered him a\nvery unusual price; no less than five hundred pounds for one edition of\ntwo thousand; but I own, that I should be better pleased to see him in\nyour hands. I only inform you of this fact, that you may see how high\nthe general expectations are of Mr. Robertson's performance. It will\nhave a quick sale in this country, from the character of the author; and\nin England, from the merit of the work, as soon as it is known.\n\n\"Some part of his subject is common with mine; but as his work is a\nHistory of Scotland, mine of England, we do not interfere; and it will\nrather be an amusement to the reader to compare our method of treating\nthe same subject. I give you thanks, however, for your attention in\nasking my opinion.\"[43:1]\n\n\nThe following is from another letter on the same subject.\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 20th June, 1758._\n\n\"I send enclosed a letter from Mr. Robertson. He wishes it were\npracticable to send him more than one sheet every post. I am afraid, if\nthis be not done, our publications will interfere, which would be\ndisagreeable to you as well as to both of us.\n\n\"I have read a small pamphlet called 'Sketches,' which, from the style,\nI take to be Dr. Armstrong's, though the public voice gives it to Allan\nRamsay.[43:2] I find the ingenious author, whoever he be, ridicules the\nnew method of spelling, as he calls it; but that method of spelling\n_honor_, instead of _honour_, was Lord Bolingbroke's, Dr. Middleton's,\nand Mr. Pope's; besides many other eminent writers'. However, to tell\ntruth, I hate to be any way particular in a trifle; and therefore, if\nMr. Strahan has not printed off above ten or twelve sheets, I should not\nbe displeased if you told him to follow the usual, that is, his own way\nof spelling throughout; we shall make the other volumes conformable to\nit: if he be advanced farther, there is no great matter.\"[43:3]\n\n\nA letter to Elliot, after some farther recommendations of Hume's\nnephew, young Edgar, to his attention, thus proceeds:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 11th May, 1758._\n\n\"I have the prospect of paying my respects to you this autumn, in\nLondon. I am now come within sight of land, and am drawing near to a\nperiod of that volume which I had undertaken. I find the subject\ncurious; and I believe that this volume will contain some novelty, as\nwell as greater accuracy of composition, than is employed by our\nordinary historians. I could add, greater than is requisite to please\nthe taste of the public,--at least if we may judge by the vast success\nof Dr. Smollett's history. _Vanitas vanitatum, atque omnia vanitas_,\nsays the Preacher; the great object of us authors, and of you orators\nand statesmen, is to gain applause; and you see at what rate it is to be\npurchased. I fancy there is a future state, to give poets, historians,\nand philosophers their due reward, and to distribute to them those\nrecompenses which are so strangely shared out in this life. It is of\nlittle consequence that posterity does them justice, if they are for\never to be ignorant of it, and are to remain in perpetual slumber in\ntheir literary paradise. However, it is some comfort, that virtue is its\nown reward, and that a man cannot employ himself in the cultivation of\nletters without reaping a real present satisfaction from his industry. I\nam, dear sir, your most obliged humble servant.\n\n\"P.S.--I am sorry to hear that the bill for the importation of Irish\ncattle is rejected. Besides other arguments for it, I remember a strong\nargument which was used in Charles II.'s time against the prohibition,\nwhen it was first laid on: it was affirmed that the shipping employed in\nthat commerce was nearly equal to that which served for the carriage of\ncoal from Newcastle to London. It is not improbable that this argument\nhas, at present, escaped all the reasoners on that subject; and I\nthought it a proper one to be suggested to a lord of the Admiralty. It\nis to be found, if my memory do not deceive me, in Carte's Ormond, and\nwas employed by that duke.\"[45:1]\n\n\nIn the year 1759, Adam Ferguson was appointed professor of natural\nphilosophy in the university of Edinburgh. From the following\ncorrespondence, it appears that Hume and others were desirous that Smith\nshould occupy a chair in Edinburgh, and, apparently, the same that was\nobtained by Ferguson,[45:2] and that Ferguson should succeed Smith in\nGlasgow. The singular terms on which the Edinburgh professorship appears\nto have been disposed of, were, probably, not such as Smith would accede\nto; and we afterwards find Hume conducting a negotiation for Ferguson\nalone.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_8th June, 1758._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--I sit down to write to you along with Johnstone; and as we\nhave been talking over the matter, it is probable we shall employ the\nsame arguments. As he is the younger lawyer, I leave him to open the\ncase, and, suppose that you have read his letter first. We are certain\nthat the settlement of you here, and of Ferguson at Glasgow, would be\nperfectly easy, by Lord Milton's interest. The prospect of prevailing\nwith Abercromby is also very good; for the same statesman, by his\ninfluence over the town council, could oblige him either to attend,\nwhich he never would do, or dispose of the office for the money which he\ngave for it. The only real difficulty is, then, with you. Pray, then,\nconsider that this is, perhaps, the only opportunity we shall ever have\nof getting you to town. I dare swear that you think the difference of\nplace is worth paying something for; and yet it will really cost you\nnothing. You made above \u00a3100 a-year, by your class, when in this place,\nthough you had not the character of professor. We cannot suppose that it\nwill be less than \u00a3130 after you are settled. John Stevenson; and it is\nJohn Stevenson, makes near \u00a3150, as we were informed upon inquiry.[46:1]\nHere is \u00a3100 a-year for eight years' purchase; which is a cheap\npurchase, even considered as the way of a bargain. We flatter ourselves\nthat you rate our company at something; and the prospect of settling\nFerguson will be an additional inducement. For, though we think of\nmaking him take up the project if you refuse it, yet it is uncertain\nwhether he will consent; and it is attended, in his case, with many very\nobvious objections. I beseech you, therefore, to weigh all these motives\nover again. The alteration of these circumstances merit that you should\nput the matter again in deliberation. I had a letter from Miss Hepburn,\nwhere she regrets very much that you are settled at Glasgow, and that we\nhad the chance of seeing you so seldom. I am,\" &c.\n\n\"P.S.--Lord Milton can, with his finger, stop the foul mouths of all the\nroarers against heresy.\"[47:1]\n\n\nHUME _to the_ REV. JOHN JARDINE.[47:2]\n\n\"REV. SIR,--I am informed, by the late Rev. Mr. John Home, that the\nstill Rev. Adam Ferguson's affair is so far on a good footing, that it\nis agreed to refer the matter to the Justice Clerk, whether more shall\nbe paid to Mr. Abercromby than he himself gave for that professorship.\nNow, as it is obvious that, in these kinds of references, where the\nquestion is not of law and justice, the circumstances of the person are\nto be considered, I beg of you to inform my Lord of the true state of\nthe case. Ferguson must borrow almost the whole sum which he pays for\nthis office. If any more, therefore, be asked than \u00a31000, it would be\nthe most ruinous thing in the world for him to accept of the office. I\nam even of opinion that if any other method of subsistence offered, it\nwere preferable to this scheme of paying the length of \u00a31000; at least\nsuch would be my sentiments, if the case were mine.\n\n\"If the Justice Clerk considers the matter aright, he will never agree\nto so unreasonable a demand as that of paying more; and I hope you will\nsecond these arguments with all your usual eloquence, by which you so\nsuccessfully confound the devices of Satan, and bring sinners to\nrepentance. I am, Rev. Sir, your most obsequious humble servant.\"[47:3]\n\n\nTowards the end of the year 1758, but at what particular time is not\nmore minutely known, Hume went to London, and resided in Lisle Street,\nLeicester Fields. His object probably was to superintend the printing\nof the \"History of the House of Tudor;\" but he was able at the same time\nto perform essential services to his friend Dr. Robertson, whose\n\"History of Scotland\" was then going through the press in London. Of\nHume's letters to Dr. Robertson, several have been published, though\nonly in a fragmentary form, in Dugald Stewart's \"Life of\nRobertson.\"[48:1] The portions thus preserved, are naturally those which\nhave most relation to the person to whom they are addressed; but of the\nletters themselves, which doubtless, like many others from the same\nhand, contained some curious particulars of their author's habits and\npassing thoughts, no trace has been found.[48:2] Several of these\nletters, written while Robertson's work was at press, have relation to\nminor historical questions, which have subsequently been settled. The\nfollowing extracts are given, from the parts which have least reference\nto these details.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. ROBERTSON.\n\n(_Extracts._)\n\n     I am afraid that you, as well as myself, have drawn Mary's\n     character with too great softenings. She was, undoubtedly, a\n     violent woman at all times. You will see in _Murden_ proofs of\n     the utmost rancour against her innocent, good-natured, dutiful\n     son. She certainly disinherited him. What think you of a\n     conspiracy for kidnapping him, and delivering him a prisoner\n     to the King of Spain, never to recover his liberty till he\n     should turn Catholic? Tell Goodall, that if he can but give me\n     up Queen Mary, I hope to satisfy him in every thing else; and\n     he will have the pleasure of seeing John Knox and the\n     Reformers made very ridiculous. . . .\n\n     You have very good cause to be satisfied with the success of\n     your History, as far as it can be judged of from a few weeks'\n     publication. I have not heard of one who does not praise it\n     warmly; and were I to enumerate all those whose suffrages I\n     have either heard in its favour, or been told of, I should\n     fill my letter with a list of names. Mallet told me that he\n     was sure there was no Englishman capable of composing such a\n     work. The town will have it that you was educated at Oxford,\n     thinking it impossible for a mere untravelled Scotsman to\n     produce such language. In short, you may depend on the success\n     of your work, and that your name is known very much to your\n     advantage.\n\n     I am diverting myself with the notion how much you will profit\n     by the applause of my enemies in Scotland. Had you and I been\n     such fools as to have given way to jealousy, to have\n     entertained animosity and malignity against each other, and to\n     have rent all our acquaintance into parties, what a noble\n     amusement we should have exhibited to the blockheads, which\n     now they are likely to be disappointed of. All the people\n     whose friendship or judgment either of us value, are friends\n     to both, and will be pleased with the success of both, as we\n     will be with that of each other. I declare to you I have not\n     of a long time had a more sensible pleasure than the good\n     reception of your History has given me within this fortnight.\n\n\n     _25th January, 1759._\n\n     I am nearly printed out, and shall be sure to send you a copy\n     by the stage-coach, or some other conveyance. I beg of you to\n     make remarks as you go along. It would have been much better\n     had we communicated before printing, which was always my\n     desire, and was most suitable to the friendship which always\n     did, and I hope always will, subsist between us. I speak this\n     chiefly on my own account. For though I had the perusal of\n     your sheets before I printed, I was not able to derive\n     sufficient benefits from them, or indeed to make any\n     alteration by their assistance. There still remain, I fear,\n     many errors, of which you could have convinced me, if we had\n     canvassed the matter in conversation. Perhaps I might also\n     have been sometimes no less fortunate with you. Particularly\n     I could almost undertake to convince you, that the Earl of\n     Murray's conduct with the Duke of Norfolk was no way\n     dishonourable. . . .\n\n     Dr. Blair tells me that Prince Edward is reading you, and is\n     charmed. I hear the same of the Princess and Prince of Wales.\n     But what will really give you pleasure, I lent my copy to\n     Elliot during the holidays, who thinks it one of the finest\n     performances he ever read; and though he expected much, he\n     finds more. He remarked, however, (which is also my opinion,)\n     that in the beginning, before your pen was sufficiently\n     accustomed to the historic style, you employed too many\n     digressions and reflections. This was also somewhat my own\n     case, which I have corrected in my new edition.\n\n     Millar was proposing to publish me about the middle of March;\n     but I shall communicate to him your desire, even though I\n     think it entirely groundless, as you will likewise think,\n     after you have read my volume. He has very needlessly delayed\n     your publication till the 1st of February, at the desire of\n     the Edinburgh booksellers, who could no way be affected by a\n     publication in London. I was exceedingly sorry not to be able\n     to comply with your desire, when you expressed your wish that\n     I should not write this period. I could not write downward.\n     For when you find occasion, by new discoveries, to correct\n     your opinion with regard to facts which passed in Queen\n     Elizabeth's days, who, that has not the best opportunities of\n     informing himself, could venture to relate any recent\n     transactions? I must, therefore, have abandoned altogether\n     this scheme of the English history, in which I had proceeded\n     so far, if I had not acted as I did. You will see what light\n     and force this History of the Tudors bestows on that of the\n     Stuarts. Had I been prudent, I should have begun with it. I\n     care not to boast, but I will venture to say, that I have now\n     effectually stopped the mouths of all those villanous Whigs\n     who railed at me.\n\n     You are so kind as to ask me about my coming down. I can yet\n     answer nothing. I have the strangest reluctance to change\n     places. I lived several years happy with my brother at\n     Ninewells; and had not his marriage changed a little the state\n     of the family, I believe I should have lived and died there. I\n     used every expedient to evade this journey to London; yet it\n     is now uncertain whether I shall ever leave it. I have had\n     some invitations, and some intentions, of taking a trip to\n     Paris; but I believe it will be safer for me not to go\n     thither, for I might probably settle there for life. No one\n     was ever endowed with so great a portion of the _vis\n     inertiae_. But as I live here very privately, and avoid as\n     much as possible (and it is easily possible) all connexion\n     with the great, I believe I should be better in Edinburgh. . . . .\n\n\n     _London, 8th February, 1759._\n\n     . . . . As to the \"Age of Leo the Tenth,\" it was Warton\n     himself who intended to write it; but he has not wrote it, and\n     probably never will. If I understand your hint, I should\n     conjecture, that you had some thoughts of taking up the\n     subject. But how can you acquire knowledge of the great works\n     of sculpture, architecture, and painting, by which that age\n     was chiefly distinguished? Are you versed in all the anecdotes\n     of the Italian literature? These questions I heard proposed in\n     a company of literati, when I inquired concerning this design\n     of Warton. They applied their remarks to that gentleman, who\n     yet, they say, has travelled. I wish they do not, all of them,\n     fall more fully on you. However, you must not be idle. May I\n     venture to suggest to you the Ancient History, particularly\n     that of Greece? I think Rollin's success might encourage you;\n     nor need you be in the least intimidated by his merit. That\n     author has no other merit but a certain facility and sweetness\n     of narration; but has loaded his work with silly\n     puerilities. . . . .\n\n            *       *       *       *       *\n\n     I forgot to tell you, that two days ago I was in the House of\n     Commons, where an English gentleman came to me, and told me\n     that he had lately sent to a grocer's shop for a pound of\n     raisins, which he received wrapped up in a paper that he\n     showed me. How would you have turned pale at the sight! It was\n     a leaf of your History, and the very character of Queen\n     Elizabeth, which you had laboured so finely, little thinking\n     it would so soon come to so disgraceful an end. I happened a\n     little after to see Millar, and told him the story;\n     consulting him, to be sure, on the fate of his new boasted\n     historian, of whom he was so fond. But the story proves more\n     serious than I apprehended: for he told Strahan, who thence\n     suspects villany among his apprentices and journeymen; and has\n     sent me very earnestly to know the gentleman's name, that he\n     may find out the grocer, and trace the matter to the bottom.\n     In vain did I remonstrate that this was sooner or later the\n     fate of all authors, _serius, ocyus, sors exitura_. He will\n     not be satisfied; and begs me to keep my jokes for another\n     occasion. But that I am resolved not to do; and, therefore,\n     being repulsed by his passion and seriousness, I direct them\n     against you.\n\n     Next week I am published; and then I expect a constant\n     comparison will be made between Dr. Robertson and Mr. Hume. I\n     shall tell you in a few weeks which of these heroes is likely\n     to prevail. Meanwhile, I can inform both of them for their\n     comforts, that their combat is not likely to make half so much\n     noise as that between Broughton and the one-eyed coachman.\n     _Vanitas vanitatum, atque omnia vanitas._ I shall still\n     except, however, the friendship and good opinion of worthy\n     men. I am, &c.\n\n\n     _London, 12th March, 1759._\n\n     MY DEAR SIR,--I believe I mentioned to you a French gentleman,\n     Monsieur Helvetius, whose book, \"De l'Esprit,\" was making a\n     great noise in Europe. He is a very fine genius, and has the\n     character of a very worthy man. My name is mentioned several\n     times in his work with marks of esteem; and he has made me an\n     offer, if I would translate his work into English, to\n     translate anew all my philosophical writings into French. He\n     says that none of them are well done, except that on the\n     \"Natural History of Religion,\" by Monsieur Martigny,[52:1] a\n     counsellor of state. He added, that the Abb\u00e9 Prev\u00f4t,\n     celebrated for the _Memoires d'un homme d'Honneur_, and other\n     entertaining works,[52:2] was just now translating my\n     History. This account of Helvetius engaged me to send him over\n     the new editions of all my writings; and I have added your\n     History, which, I told him, was here published with great\n     applause; adding, that the subject was interesting, and the\n     execution masterly; and that it was probable some man of\n     letters at Paris may think that a translation of it would be\n     agreeable to the public. I thought that this was the best\n     method of executing your intentions. I could not expect that\n     any Frenchman here would be equal to the work. There is one\n     Carraccioli, who came to me and spoke something of translating\n     my new volume of History; but as he also mentioned his\n     intentions of translating Smollett, I gave him no\n     encouragement to proceed. The same reason would make me averse\n     to see you in his hands.\n\n     But though I have given this character of your work to\n     Monsieur Helvetius, I warn you, that this is the last time\n     that, either to Frenchman or Englishman, I shall ever speak\n     the least good of it. A plague take you! Here I sat near the\n     historical summit of Parnassus, immediately under Dr.\n     Smollett; and you have the impudence to squeeze yourself by\n     me, and place yourself directly under his feet. Do you imagine\n     that this can be agreeable to me? And must not I be guilty of\n     great simplicity, to contribute, by my endeavours, to your\n     thrusting me out of my place in Paris as well as at London?\n     But I give you warning that you will find the matter somewhat\n     difficult, at least in the former city. A friend of mine, who\n     is there, writes home to his father, the strangest accounts on\n     that head, which my modesty will not permit me to repeat, but\n     which it allowed me very deliciously to swallow.\n\n     I have got a good reason or pretence for excusing me to\n     Monsieur Helvetius, with regard to the translating his work. A\n     translation of it was previously advertised here.\n\n\n     _---- 20th, 1759._\n\n     I am afraid that my letters will be tedious and disagreeable\n     to you by their uniformity. Nothing but continued and\n     unvaried accounts of the same thing must in the end prove\n     disgusting. Yet since you will hear me speak on this subject,\n     I cannot help it, and must fatigue your ears as much as ours\n     are in this place, by endless and repeated, and noisy praises\n     of the \"History of Scotland.\" Dr. Douglas told me yesterday,\n     that he had seen the Bishop of Norwich, who had just bought\n     the book, from the high commendations he heard of it from Mr.\n     Legge. Mallet told me that Lord Mansfield is at a loss whether\n     he shall most esteem the matter or the style. Elliot told me,\n     that being in company with George Grenville, that gentleman\n     was speaking loud in the same key. Our friend pretended\n     ignorance; said he knew the author, and if he thought the book\n     good for any thing, would send for it and read it. \"Send for\n     it, by all means,\" said Mr. Grenville; \"you have not read a\n     better book of a long time.\"--\"But,\" said Elliot, \"I suppose,\n     although the matter may be tolerable, as the author was never\n     on this side the Tweed till he wrote it, it must be very\n     barbarous in the expression.\" \"By no means,\" cried Mr.\n     Grenville. \"Had the author lived all his life in London, and\n     in the best company, he could not have expressed himself with\n     greater elegance and purity.\" Lord Lyttelton seems to think\n     that, since the time of St. Paul, there scarce has been a\n     better writer than Dr. Robertson. Mr. Walpole triumphs in the\n     success of his favourites the Scotch, &c. &c. &c.\n\n     . . . . . The great success of your book, beside its real\n     merit, is forwarded by its prudence, and by the deference paid\n     to established opinions. It gains also by its being your first\n     performance, and by its surprising the public, who are not\n     upon their guard against it. By reason of these two\n     circumstances, justice is more readily done to its merit;\n     which, however, is really so great, that I believe there is\n     scarce another instance of a first performance being so near\n     perfection.\n\n\n     _London, 29th May, 1759._\n\n     MY DEAR SIR,--I had a letter from Helvetius lately, wrote\n     before your book arrived at Paris. He tells me, that the Abb\u00e9\n     Prev\u00f4t, who had just finished the translation of my History,\n     paroit tr\u00e8s-dispos\u00e9 \u00e0 traduire l'Histoire d'Ecosse que vient\n     de faire Monsieur Robertson. If he be engaged by my\n     persuasion, I shall have the satisfaction of doing you a real\n     credit and pleasure; for he is one of the best pens in\n     Paris.[55:1] . . . . . .\n\n     Our friend Smith[55:2] is very successful here, and\n     Gerard[55:3] is very well received. The Epigoniad I cannot so\n     much promise for, though I have done all in my power to\n     forward it, particularly by writing a letter to _The Critical\n     Review_, which you may peruse. I find, however, some good\n     judges profess a great esteem for it: but _habent et sua fata\n     libelli_: however, if you want a little flattery to the\n     author, (which I own is very refreshing to an author) you may\n     tell him that Lord Chesterfield said to me he was a great\n     poet. I imagine that Wilkie will be very much elevated by\n     praise from an English Earl, and a knight of the Garter, and\n     an ambassador, and a secretary of state, and a man of so great\n     reputation. For I observe that the greatest rustics are\n     commonly most affected with such circumstances.\n\n     Ferguson's book[55:4] has a great deal of genius and fine\n     writing, and will appear in time. . . . .\n\nIn 1759, Adam Smith published his \"Theory of Moral Sentiments.\" The\nfollowing letters embody Hume's appreciation of that work.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n     _London, April 12, 1759._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I give you thanks for the agreeable present of your\n     Theory. Wedderburn and I made presents of our copies to such\n     of our acquaintances as we thought good judges, and proper to\n     spread the reputation of the book. I sent one to the Duke of\n     Argyle, to Lord Lyttelton, Horace Walpole, Soame Jenyns, and\n     Burke an Irish gentleman, who wrote lately a very pretty\n     Treatise on the Sublime. Millar desired my permission to send\n     one in your name to Dr. Warburton.\n\n     I have delayed writing to you, till I could tell you something\n     of the success of the book, and could prognosticate, with some\n     probability, whether it should be finally damned to oblivion,\n     or should be registered in the temple of immortality. Though\n     it has been published only a few weeks, I think there appear\n     already such strong symptoms, that I can almost venture to\n     foretell its fate. It is, in short, this----\n\n     But I have been interrupted in my letter by a foolish\n     impertinent visit of one who has lately come from Scotland. He\n     tells me that the University of Glasgow intend to declare\n     Rouet's office vacant, upon his going abroad with Lord Hope. I\n     question not but you will have our friend Ferguson in your\n     eye, in case another project for procuring him a place in the\n     University of Edinburgh should fail. Ferguson has very much\n     polished and improved his Treatise on Refinement;[56:1] and\n     with some amendments it will make an admirable book, and\n     discovers an elegant and a singular genius. The Epigoniad, I\n     hope, will do; but it is somewhat up-hill work. As I doubt not\n     but you consult the Reviews sometimes at present, you will see\n     in _The Critical Review_ a letter upon that poem; and I desire\n     you to employ your conjectures in finding out the author. Let\n     me see a sample of your skill in knowing hands by your\n     guessing at the person.[56:2]\n\n     I am afraid of Kames' \"Law Tracts.\" A man might as well think\n     of making a fine sauce by a mixture of wormwood and aloes, as\n     an agreeable composition by joining metaphysics and Scottish\n     law. However, the book, I believe, has merit; though few\n     people will take the pains of inquiring into it. But to return\n     to your book, and its success in this town, I must tell\n     you----\n\n     A plague of interruptions! I ordered myself to be denied; and\n     yet here is one that has broke in upon me again. He is a man\n     of letters, and we have had a good deal of literary\n     conversation. You told me, that you was curious of literary\n     anecdotes, and therefore I shall inform you of a few that\n     have come to my knowledge. I believe I have mentioned to you\n     already, Helvetius's book \"De l'Esprit.\" It is worth your\n     reading, not for its philosophy, which I do not highly value,\n     but for its agreeable composition. I had a letter from him a\n     few days ago, wherein he tells me that my name was much\n     oftener in the manuscript, but that the censor of books at\n     Paris obliged him to strike it out.\n\n     Voltaire has lately published a small work called _Candide,\n     ou, l'Optimisme_. I shall give you a detail of it. But what is\n     all this to my book, say you? My dear Mr. Smith, have\n     patience: compose yourself to tranquillity; show yourself a\n     philosopher in practice as well as profession: think on the\n     emptiness, and rashness, and futility of the common judgments\n     of men; how little they are regulated by reason in any\n     subject, much more in philosophical subjects, which so far\n     exceed the comprehension of the vulgar.\n\n                      ----Non si quid turbida Roma,\n          Elevet, accedas: examenve improbum in ill\u00e2\n          Castiges trutin\u00e2: nec te quaesiveris extra.\n\n     A wise man's kingdom is his own breast; or, if he ever looks\n     farther, it will only be to the judgment of a select few, who\n     are free from prejudices, and capable of examining his work.\n     Nothing, indeed, can be a stronger presumption of falsehood\n     than the approbation of the multitude; and Phocion, you know,\n     always suspected himself of some blunder, when he was attended\n     with the applauses of the populace.\n\n     Supposing, therefore, that you have duly prepared yourself for\n     the worst by all these reflections, I proceed to tell you the\n     melancholy news, that your book has been very unfortunate; for\n     the public seem disposed to applaud it extremely. It was\n     looked for by the foolish people with some impatience; and the\n     mob of literati are beginning already to be very loud in its\n     praises. Three bishops called yesterday at Millar's shop in\n     order to buy copies, and to ask questions about the author.\n     The Bishop of Peterborough said, he had passed the evening in\n     a company where he heard it extolled above all books in the\n     world. The Duke of Argyle is more decisive than he used to be\n     in its favour. I suppose he either considers it as an exotic,\n     or thinks the author will be serviceable to him in the\n     Glasgow elections. Lord Lyttelton says that Robertson, and\n     Smith, and Bower,[58:1] are the glories of English literature.\n     Oswald protests he does not know whether he has reaped more\n     instruction or entertainment from it. But you may easily judge\n     what reliance can be put on his judgment, who has been engaged\n     all his life in public business, and who never sees any faults\n     in his friends. Millar exults and brags that two-thirds of the\n     edition are already sold, and that he is now sure of success.\n     You see what a son of the earth that is, to value books only\n     by the profit they bring him. In that view, I believe it may\n     prove a very good book.\n\n     Charles Townsend, who passes for the cleverest fellow in\n     England, is so taken with the performance, that he said to\n     Oswald he would put the Duke of Buccleuch under the author's\n     care, and would make it worth his while to accept of that\n     charge. As soon as I heard this, I called on him twice, with a\n     view of talking with him about the matter, and of convincing\n     him of the propriety of sending that young nobleman to\n     Glasgow: for I could not hope, that he could offer you any\n     terms which would tempt you to renounce your professorship;\n     but I missed him. Mr. Townsend passes for being a little\n     uncertain in his resolutions; so perhaps you need not build\n     much on his sally.\n\n     In recompense for so many mortifying things, which nothing but\n     truth could have extorted from me, and which I could easily\n     have multiplied to a greater number, I doubt not but you are\n     so good a Christian as to return good for evil; and to flatter\n     my vanity by telling me, that all the godly in Scotland abuse\n     me for my account of John Knox and the Reformation. I suppose\n     you are glad to see my paper end, and that I am obliged to\n     conclude with--Your humble servant.[58:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n     _London, 28th July, 1759._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--Your friend, Mr. Wilson,[59:1] called on me two\n     three days ago when I was abroad, and he left your letter. I\n     did not see him till to-day. He seems a very modest, sensible,\n     ingenious man. Before I saw him, I spoke to Mr. A. Millar\n     about him, and found him very much disposed to serve him. I\n     proposed particularly to Mr. Millar, that it was worthy of so\n     eminent a bookseller as he, to make a complete elegant set of\n     the classics, which might set up his name equal to the\n     Alduses, Stevenses, or Elzevirs; and that Mr. Wilson was the\n     properest person in the world to assist him in such a project.\n     He confessed to me that he had sometimes thought of it; but\n     that his great difficulty was to find a man of letters, who\n     could correct the press. I mentioned the matter to Wilson, who\n     said he had a man of letters in his eye: one Lyon, a nonjuring\n     clergyman at Glasgow. He is probably known to you, or at least\n     may be so; I would desire your opinion of him.\n\n     Mr. Wilson told me of his machines, which seem very ingenious,\n     and deserve much encouragement. I shall soon see them.\n\n     I am very well acquainted with Bourke, who was much taken with\n     your book. He got your direction from me, with a view of\n     writing to you, and thanking you for your present; for I made\n     it pass in your name. I wonder he has not done it: he is now\n     in Ireland. I am not acquainted with Jenyns; but he spoke very\n     highly of the book to Oswald, who is his brother in the board\n     of trade. Millar showed me, a few days ago, a letter from Lord\n     Fitzmaurice; where he tells him, that he has carried over a\n     few copies to the Hague, for presents. Mr. York was very much\n     taken with it, as well as several others who had read it.\n\n     I am told that you are preparing a new edition, and propose to\n     make some additions and alterations, in order to obviate\n     objections. I shall use the freedom to propose one; which, if\n     it appears to be of any weight, you may have in your eye. I\n     wish you had more particularly and fully proved that all kinds\n     of sympathy are necessarily agreeable. This is the hinge of\n     your system, and yet you only mention the matter cursorily, in\n     p. 20. Now, it would appear that there is a disagreeable\n     sympathy, as well as an agreeable. And, indeed, as the\n     sympathetic passion is a reflex image of the principal, it\n     must partake of its qualities, and be painful where that is\n     so. Indeed, _when we converse with a man with whom we can\n     entirely sympathize_, that is, where there is a warm and\n     intimate friendship, the cordial openness of such a commerce\n     overpowers the pain of a disagreeable sympathy, and renders\n     the whole movement agreeable. But, in ordinary cases, this\n     cannot have place. An ill-humoured fellow; a man tired and\n     disgusted with every thing, always _ennui\u00e9_, sickly,\n     complaining, embarrassed; such a one throws an evident damp on\n     company, which I suppose would be accounted for by sympathy,\n     and yet is disagreeable.\n\n     It is always thought a difficult problem to account for the\n     pleasure received from the tears, and grief, and sympathy of\n     tragedy, which would not be the case if all sympathy was\n     agreeable. An hospital would be a more entertaining place than\n     a ball. I am afraid that, in p. 99, and 111, this proposition\n     has escaped you, or, rather, is interwoven with your\n     reasonings in that place. You say expressly, \"It is painful to\n     go along with grief, and we always enter into it with\n     reluctance.\" It will probably be requisite for you to modify\n     or explain this sentiment, and reconcile it to your system.\n\n     My dear Mr. Smith, you must not be so much engrossed with your\n     own book as never to mention mine. The Whigs, I am told, are\n     anew in a rage against me, though they know not how to vent\n     themselves; for they are constrained to allow all my facts.\n     You have, probably, seen Hurd's abuse of me. He is of the\n     Warburtonian school; and, consequently, very insolent and very\n     scurrilous; but I shall never reply a word to him. If my past\n     writings do not sufficiently prove me to be no Jacobite, ten\n     volumes in folio never would.\n\n     I signed, yesterday, an agreement with Mr. Millar; where I\n     mention that I proposed to write the History of England, from\n     the beginning till the accession of Henry VII.; and he engages\n     to give me \u00a31400 for the copy. This is the first previous\n     agreement ever I made with a bookseller.[61:1] I shall execute\n     this work at leisure, without fatiguing myself by such ardent\n     application as I have hitherto employed. It is chiefly as a\n     resource against idleness that I shall undertake this work;\n     for, as to money, I have enough; and as to reputation, what I\n     have wrote already will be sufficient, if it be good; if not,\n     it is not likely I shall now write better. I found it\n     impracticable (at least fancied so) to write the History since\n     the Revolution. I am in doubt whether I shall stay here and\n     execute the work; or return to Scotland, and only come up here\n     to consult the manuscripts. I have several inducements on both\n     sides. Scotland suits my fortune best, and is the seat of my\n     principal friendships; but it is too narrow a place for me;\n     and it mortifies me that I sometimes hurt my friends. Pray\n     write me your judgment soon. Are the bigots much in arms on\n     account of this last volume? Robertson's book has great merit;\n     but it was visible that he profited here by the animosity\n     against me. I suppose the case was the same with you. I am,\n     dear Smith, yours sincerely.[61:2]\n\nIn 1758 and 1759, much alarm was caused throughout Britain by a\nthreatened invasion from France. Hume seems to have \"improved\" this\nstate of matters, in the following letters, imparting wild and\nexaggerated news. His writing in such a tone, at such a juncture, is an\nexample of his entertaining the same contempt for panics as for popular\nfeeling in other forms. There is no address on the first of the letters.\nThe second would reach its destination nearly at the same time with the\naccount of Rodney's destruction of the flat-bottomed boats intended for\nthe invasion.\n\n\n\"_15th May, [1759.]_\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--If you pass by Edinburgh, please bring me two pounds of\nrapee, such as Peggy Elliot uses to take. You will get it at Gillespy's\nnear the Cross.\n\n\"Mrs. Mallet has her compliments to you, and begs you to procure her a\ncollection of Scotch pebbles. I assured her that I should inform you of\nher desire, and also that you would not fail to execute it.\n\n\"We hear that you are to be expelled the university with disgrace. Even\nthe most partial of your friends here are obliged to allow that you\ndeserve it.\n\n\"We expect over forty thousand French, with the first fair wind. They\nwill probably settle the ministry; for, at present, the Pitts and the\nLegges, and the Grenvilles, are all going by the ears.\n\n\"We live in hopes of seeing you soon. My compliments to Smith, whose\nbook is in a very good way.\n\n\"Dr. Warburton presents his compliments to you. Yours sincerely,\"\n&c.[62:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ MR. RUAT.[62:2]\n\n\"_6th July [1739.]_\n\n\"DEAR RUAT,--I am very much obliged to you for the desire you express to\nMiss Elliot of hearing from me; and particularly your wishing to be\ninformed, by me, of any news that pass. As soon as I knew, certainly,\nhow to direct to you, I have sat down to write; and, though the\noccurrences are no way extraordinary which I can communicate, they\nshall all be strictly, and literally, and certainly true; and you may\nventure to tell them as such to all the idle people that frequent\nBuxton.\n\n\"This morning, there arrived an express from Admiral Hawke's fleet,\ngiving an account that the French fleet had sallied out of Brest, with\ntwenty-four ships of the line, and had engaged the English fleet, in a\ndesperate and bloody battle, from morning to night, which ended in a\ntotal victory on our side. There are seven of the French ships sunk and\nburnt, and four taken. There are two of our capital ships sunk, and the\nadmiral's ship was blown up, with its whole company, not one of whom is\nsaved. Prince Edward, in the Ph\u0153nix, behaved to admiration; but,\ntowards the end of the engagement, an unlucky cannon ball carried away\nboth his legs, by which it is feared we shall loose that promising young\nprince. Our friend, poor Dr. Blair, would not go below deck, but stood\nby the prince's side during the whole engagement, till his head was\ncarried off by a double-headed shot.\n\n\"About three hours after the arrival of this express, there arrived\nanother from the west, giving an account of the landing of the French in\nTorbay, to the number of twenty thousand foot, and five thousand horse.\nThey believe already, in London, that they are sixty thousand strong.\nThe panic is inconceivable. The people in the country are hurrying up to\ntown; those in the town are hurrying down to the country. Nobody thinks\nof resistance. Every one believes the French, Popery, and the Pretender,\nto be at their heels.\n\n\"What adds to our general confusion is, the discovery of treachery in\nour councils. Mr. Pitt is sent to the Tower, for holding a secret\ncorrespondence with the French:--his ciphers and letters are taken. Mr.\nWood, our friend, (if he can be said to deserve that name,) is thrown\ninto a dungeon; and there will be certain proofs to convict him of that\ntreachery.\n\n\"In order to prepare the way for this blow, the perfidious French had\nemployed somebody to blow up the magazine in the Tower. I heard the\nexplosion this morning about five o'clock. All London is covered with\nrubbish, and stones and brick, and broken arms. There fell into our back\ncourt a shattered musket, and the bloody leg of a man. I thought the day\nof judgment was come when I first heard the explosion, and began\nseriously to think of my sins.\n\n\"These events will, all of them, make a figure in future historians; and\nit is happy for these gentlemen, who are, or ought to be, very\nscrupulous with regard to matters of fact, that they can so well\nreconcile the true and the marvellous.\n\n\"As to private news, there is little stirring; only Dr. Warburton turned\nMahometan, and was circumcised last week. They say he is to write a\nbook, in order to prove the divine legation of Mahomet; and it is not\ndoubted but he will succeed as well as in proving that of Moses. I saw\nhim yesterday in the Mall with his turban; which really becomes him very\nwell.\n\n\"Poor Andrew Millar is declared bankrupt; his debts amount to above\n\u00a340,000, and it is said his creditors will not get above three shillings\nin the pound. All the world allow him to have been diligent and\nindustrious; but his misfortunes are ascribed to the extravagance of his\nwife, a very ordinary case in this city.\n\n\"Miss ----, yesterday morning declared her marriage with Dr. Armstrong;\nbut we were surprised in the afternoon to find Mr. Short the optician,\ncome in and challenge her for his wife. It seems she has been married\nprivately for some time to both of them. Her sister has been much more\nprudent, whom we find to have confined herself entirely to gallantry,\nand to have privately entertained a correspondence with three gallants.\nI am, dear Ruat, with great truth, your most sincere friend and humble\nservant.\"[65:1]\n\n\nAbout the commencement of November, Hume returned to Scotland, for he\nwrites to Millar on 18th December that he has been six weeks in\nEdinburgh. He states, that he is correcting his \"History of the\nStuarts;\" and says, \"I fancy that I shall be able to put my account of\nthat period of English history beyond controversy. As soon as this task\nis finished, I undertake the ancient English history. I find the\nAdvocates' Library very well provided with books, in this period: but\nbefore I finish, I shall pass a considerable time in London, to peruse\nthe manuscripts in the Museum.\"[65:2]\n\nOn his return he left behind him, to be published in London, the two\nvolumes of his \"History of England, under the House of Tudor,\" of which\nhe says in his \"own life,\"--\"The clamour against this performance was\nalmost equal to that against the History of the two first Stuarts. The\nreign of Elizabeth was particularly obnoxious.\"\n\nHe had now published the whole of that department of his History, from\nwhich his opinions on the later progress of the British constitution can\nbe derived; and the epoch of this publication calls for some notice of\nthe manner in which subsequent inquirers have found that he performed\nhis task.[65:3] He was not like such writers as Clarendon and Brady,\nthe interested or prejudiced advocate of the crown against the people;\nand we must look for the causes of his erroneous views in what he did\nnot know, or did not believe, rather than in what he wilfully\nmisrepresented. In his \"Essay on Commerce,\" published in 1752, we find\nhim thus foreshadowing the principle on which he was to treat the\nHistory of Britain:--\"Lord Bacon, accounting for the great advantages\nobtained by the English in their wars with France, ascribes them chiefly\nto the superior ease and plenty of the common people among the former;\n_yet the government of the two kingdoms was at that time pretty much\nalike_.\" This assertion has been satisfactorily proved to be erroneous.\nThe spirit of credulity in historical inquiry makes out every thing\nancient to be better and greater than its modern representative. The\nspirit of scepticism questions whatever is said in favour of antiquity.\nThe sceptic cannot throw doubt on the existing wonders of modern times.\nIf one nation is far beyond another in arts, arms, civilization, or\nwealth, the facts cannot be denied; but when he looks back into past\nages, the pliability of the evidence admits the influence of the\nlevelling principle of scepticism, the tendency of which is to make all\nmankind seem much alike; and Hume, who would not have ventured to say\nthat in his own day the constitutions of France and England were very\nmuch alike, considered it but a piece of proper caution to discard as\nfallacious the evidence that there was any great difference between them\nin former times.\n\nUnquestionably the doubting or inquiring spirit is a valuable quality in\na historian; for the narratives of human affairs are full of\nfalsehoods, which it is the philosophical historian's function to\ndiscard. But the sifting will not be satisfactory, if the materials\nsubjected to it have not been largely and laboriously collected; and the\ncharge against Hume is, that he applied it to imperfect data. Where the\ndata are insufficient, credulity and scepticism are merely the\ncounterparts of each other, and produce erroneous results nearly alike.\nThose who proclaimed Bruce, the Abyssinian traveller, to be a liar, for\nstatements which have now been authenticated, believed in the account\ngiven of a fictitious people, in an impudent forgery, called\nPsalmanazer's Formosa, which would not now impose for a moment on any\neducated person. Our enlarged knowledge of the matters to be subjected\nto sceptical analysis, has now, in both cases, brought us to the right\nconclusion.\n\nAn inquirer into the structure of the earth, who should know nothing of\nits crust but the sandy plains of Germany, would, were he of a sceptical\nspirit, discredit all those geological wonders which the most sceptical\nof scientific men now believe.[68:1] In relation to some parts of the\nBritish constitution, Hume was in the position of such an investigator.\nHis early prejudice against the study of the law, prevented him from\nbeing fully acquainted with a science, the knowledge of which is\nessential to any man who would clearly develop the progress of our\nconstitution,--the common law of England. He did not understand its\nstubborn immovable nature, its solid impregnable masonry, against which\nthe ambitious violence of monarchs, and the fury of popular tumults\nraged in vain. From the day when Gascoigne committed Henry V. to prison,\nto that when surly tyrannical old Sir Edward Coke argued face to face\nwith King James against the interference of the prerogative with the\nindependent authority of his court, those who were the honest\nadministrators of the common law held that they were no man's servants,\nand no man's masters, but the sworn expounders of a settled rule of\naction, which no power within the realm could sway. It might be full of\nstrange conceits, of passages hard to determine, of unreasonable and\noften cruel rules: but what this oracle bade them, that were they bound\nto do, be the consequences what they might.\n\nTo a mere onlooker, this system appeared to be clumsy and barbarous, and\nunendowed with that philosophical symmetry which characterized the rival\nsystem of the civil law. It required that one should have a full\nknowledge of its massive structure, and passive power of resistance, to\nappreciate its value in a country where king, nobles, and common people,\nwere alike characterized by party spirit, courage, and restless\nactivity. A philosopher, indulging in a distant contemplation, would at\nonce prefer the nice philosophical adaptation to the wants of a state,\nand the fine logical structure, with which a despotic power, able to\nmanipulate the laws at its own will, had endowed the system of\nJustinian; and if he found that the administrators of the rude common\nlaw waged a determined war against this philosophical code, his\ncontempt for the one, and his admiration of the other, would be likely\nto be increased. But there is no doubt that the advocates of the common\nlaw were right in resisting the introduction of the pliant principles of\nthe civilians. If it be true that the common law, and the constitution\nwhich grew along with it, embodied no philosophical principle of\nliberty, it is also true that they embodied no philosophical principle\nof despotism, such as that which was ready made in the Justinian\nlegislation. The theories of passive obedience, and the sacredness of\nthe monarchical character, were strangers to it; and these doctrines, so\nattractive to those who profit by them, were introduced by the\ncivilians. In presence of the unbending operation of the common law, and\ndependent on a surly suspicious parliament, the sovereign might yet, if\nhe were a man of talent and courage, be very powerful and very\ntyrannical: but he had none of those attributes through which the\ningenuity of the civilians had divested him of all the moral failings,\nso far as they were accompanied with the moral responsibilities of a\nhuman being. He was often a \"most dread sovereign:\" but it was for these\nnovel doctrines, the fruit of the reading of the clergy and the\necclesiastical lawyers, to invest him with the attributes of \"sacred\nmajesty.\"\n\nThe supporters of the common law, and of the old popular rights, strove\nto keep the law above the king. Those who drew their constitutional\nprinciples from the civilians and canonists, desired to place the king\nabove the law. They accomplished their object in name, but not in fact,\nby incorporating with the constitutional law those fictions, that the\nking never dies, is not responsible, does not require to appear by his\nattorney, suffers no laches, &c. But in reality the old principles which\nmade the king merely the head of a community, all of whom were subjected\nto the law, substantially held its ground; for, in so far as the monarch\nwas exempted from responsibilities, in the same proportion was he\ndeprived of any powers which he could exercise otherwise than through a\nresponsible minister.\n\nThere was in Hume a like want of appreciation of the value of\nparliamentary forms and privileges, and a corresponding indifference\nabout their violation. He had not sufficiently studied the Journals of\nthe Commons, and did not trace the rise and development of that system\nof procedure which has protected our own liberties, and afforded a model\nfor the legislative assemblies of all free nations.[71:1] It was in the\nLong Parliament, and under the eye of the able men of business who then\nheld the lead, that this noble system was brought to perfection; but the\nreader whose historical information is derived solely from Hume, knows\nlittle of its value. Thus unconscious of the practical importance of the\nrights and privileges of the English people, he did not sympathize with\nthose who expected alarming consequences from their infringement. He\ninvolved those who put the protection of their legal rights to the issue\nof the sword, in the same contemptuous estimate with the fanatics whom\nhe charged with convulsing the state about religious differences of no\nessential moment. In either case the event at issue was of so little\nimportance in his estimation, that he had small charity for those who\nmade it a vitally important concern.[72:1] But in all these matters we\nlook back on Hume with the light of later times. To appreciate his\nservices to constitutional history, we must, while we keep in view the\nsuccessful labours of later inquirers, remember how little had been done\nby his predecessors. The old chroniclers, such as Hall and Holingshed,\nscarcely ever deign to descend from the pride, pomp, and circumstance of\nglorious war, to mention constitutional matters; and perhaps, in an\nimpartial estimate, it will be admitted that in the gradual progress\ntowards a better appreciation of what is truly valuable in British\nhistory, no one writer has taken so great a stride as Hume.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[3:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[5:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[5:2] In a small book, called \"Letters on Mr. Hume's History of Great\nBritain,\" Edinburgh, 1756, known to have been written by Daniel\nMacqueen, D.D., the chief object is to prove that Hume has not treated\nthe Roman Catholic religion with sufficient severity, and to supply this\ndefect in his History. In a few remarks at the end, however, Dr.\nMacqueen had the merit of suggesting many of the constitutional\ncriticisms on Hume, which were afterwards followed out.\n\n[6:1] A sketch of Hume's character and habits, in _The Edinburgh\nMagazine_ for 1802, professing to be by one who was personally\nacquainted with him, is discredited, by its containing a statement that\nhe had joined the Roman Catholic Church when he was in France. The\nreader will remember that, almost from the moment of his setting foot on\nforeign soil, he censures the Roman Catholics, in his letters to his\nfriends; and nothing could be mentioned more at variance with a known\ncharacter, than this writer's assertion, which seems to rest on some\nimaginative parallel between the personal history of Hume and that of\nGibbon. As the reader may desire to read the sketch thus condemned, and\nto judge for himself of its applicability to Hume, it is here given.\n\n\n\"ANECDOTES OF DAVID HUME, ESQ.\n\n\"_By one who personally knew him._\n\n     \"David Hume was a man of parts, natural and acquired, far\n     superior to most of mankind; of a benevolent heart, a\n     friendly, kind disposition, and a real affection for all his\n     connexions. No man is without his failings; and his great\n     views of being singular, and a vanity to show himself superior\n     to most people, led him to advance many axioms that were\n     dissonant to the opinions of others, and led him into\n     sceptical doctrines only to show how minute and puzzling they\n     were to other folk; in so far, that I have often seen him (in\n     various companies, according as he saw some enthusiastic\n     person there) combat either their religious or political\n     principles; nay, after he had struck them dumb, take up the\n     argument on their side with equal good humour, wit, and\n     jocoseness, all to show his pre-eminency. For the justness of\n     these observations, I appeal to his life, wrote by himself,\n     and published by his friend and admirer, Adam Smith, where you\n     see he was so chagrined at no notice of, or answer being made\n     to, his Essays, and was so disappointed, that he proposed to\n     retire to Saumure, or some other part of France, to be lost to\n     the unheeding world; and, in short, be a perfect hermit. But,\n     on being answered by a bishop, on some of his dogmas, and\n     other favourable circumstances flattering him that he would at\n     last be conspicuous, he gave up the project, and was first a\n     companion, for some time, to the Marquis of Annandale; then\n     librarian to the Advocates here; after that, secretary to\n     General Sinclair at Turin (who was, under pretence of an\n     ambassador to his Sardinian Majesty, a spy, as his conduct was\n     dubious to the allies, against Louis XV.;) afterwards, by\n     General Conway's interest, secretary to Lord Hertford at\n     Paris; left there charg\u00e9 d'affairs; and, finally, one of the\n     under secretaries of state for about half a year. After which\n     he settled in Edinburgh for life, and made all his friends and\n     connexions happy by the possession of so worthy a man.--Thus\n     far I have given my real sentiments of the man, and can only\n     now regret that he was so weak as to write his life in the\n     style he did.\n\n     \"I must add, that he was a cheerful and most agreeable\n     companion, well informed, and who accommodated himself to the\n     company; and, for all his abstruse learning, was never happier\n     than in a select company of ladies and friends, and fond to\n     engage in a party at whist, of which game he was a complete\n     adept, and, of consequence, successful. He never played deep;\n     never above a shilling, one, two, or three; and I have known\n     him come into Edinburgh for some weeks, pay his residence\n     there, and get a recruit of clothes and necessaries out of his\n     gains; nay, sometimes to have a pound or two to give in\n     assistance to a necessitous relation; and carry back to his\n     brother's house, at Ninewells, the cash he brought with him\n     from that place, in order to defray the expenses of his visit\n     to the metropolis. General Scott of Balcomie, who was a good\n     judge in these matters, was so convinced of his superior skill\n     at whist, that I was assured he offered David his purse to\n     gamble at London; and that he would give him \u00a31000 a-year if\n     he would communicate his winnings. This he refused with\n     disdain, saying, he played for his amusement; and though\n     General Scott would give him ten times more per annum, he\n     would be accessary to no such fraudulent doings.\n\n     \"It was very remarkable, that, though from study and reading\n     the purest authors in the English language he learnt to write\n     in a correct and elegant style, yet, in conversing, he spoke\n     with the tone, idiom, and vulgar voice of the commonalty in\n     the Merse or Berwickshire. This, I presume, arose from his\n     having been greatly, in his early years, about his brother's\n     house, conversing with servants, &c.; and having no ear\n     (though a foreign or even a dead language, which he acquired\n     by grammar and rules, he wrote pointedly,) it was impossible\n     for him to attain, in speaking, any other dialect of the Scots\n     than that he caught in his childhood: besides, he had but a\n     creeping voice, rather effeminate than manly.\n\n     \"I could give you several anecdotes with regard to him; I\n     shall content myself with one. One day when he was advancing\n     some irreligious maxims in a sarcastical style, I said to him,\n     'L----, David, ye are much altered in your sentiments since\n     you professed yourself a sincere Roman Catholic, confessed\n     yourself to the priests, declared yourself a sincere penitent,\n     got absolution, and even extreme unction.' He was much\n     offended at this, as he believed none knew, in this country,\n     that all this had happened to him at Nice. He answered in a\n     huff, 'I was in a high fever then, and did not know what I\n     said, or they did with me.' I replied, 'You put me in mind of\n     Patie Birnie's answer to the minister of Kinghorn, who,\n     stumbling o'er him in a passage dead drunk, said, 'Ah! Patie,\n     is this your promise that you would never be fu' again, if the\n     Lord spared you?'--'Wow,' quo' Pate, 'I wonder to hear ane of\n     your honour's sense mind what ony body says in a red raving\n     fever; I kent naithing of what was ga'en.' David and I, for\n     years after, were tolerable good friends, but never so cordial\n     as before. G. N.\" [These initials are supposed to be those of\n     George Nichol, M. P.]\n\n[9:1] Hume was inclined to admire the polity of the Church of England,\non grounds peculiar to himself. The tendency of his remarks on the\nwealth and dignity of that establishment, is to hold that heaping riches\nand honours on a clergy, by occupying their minds in pomps and vanities,\ndiverts a certain portion of the spirit of priestcraft from its natural\npropensity to subdue or annoy the rest of the community, and is on the\nwhole a judicious investment of a considerable proportion of the wealth\nand honours which may happen to be at the command of a state. Adam\nSmith's opinion, on the other hand, was, that the people are best\nprotected against the influence of priestcraft, by allowing no sect to\nhave a superiority over others, and by leaving the clergy of different\ndenominations to expend their zeal in fighting with each other.\n\n[11:1] Original at Kilravock.\n\n[13:1] Scroll in Hume's handwriting, Minto MSS.\n\n[13:2] Four Dissertations: The Natural History of Religion; Of the\nPassions; Of Tragedy; Of the Standard of Taste. 8vo, A. Millar. Hume, in\nhis \"own life,\" says they were published in the interval between the\nfirst and second volumes of his History.\n\n[14:1] In a copy which I possess, after p. 200, the end of the third\ndissertation, there are four strips of paper, the remains of half a\nsheet cut away. This occurs in signature K, and signature L begins with\nthe fourth dissertation.\n\n[14:2] Vol. i. p. 246.\n\n[15:1] A simple example tells at once the whole philosophy of this view.\nIn an unhealthy community, a workman dies after he has been ten years\nmarried, and leaves a widow and children dependant on the public. In a\nhealthy community, he lives for twenty years after his marriage, and\nleaves children grown up and able to provide for themselves.\n\nIn general, the aim of all remarks on Hume's writings in the present\nwork is expository, not controversial. The reader desirous of having\nevery light thrown on Hume's opinions, will care nothing about mine; but\nwhere, as in the present case, he seems to have gone astray from his own\nleading principles, it appeared to be right to notice the aberration.\n\n[16:1] This letter is not dated.\n\n[18:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[18:2] He persisted in spelling the poet's name thus.\n\n[19:1] MS. Advocates' Library. A good example of the same thing being\ndone in two ways, is afforded by comparing Hume's resignation with that\nof his venerable predecessor, Ruddiman. The latter is a document of\nconsiderable length, and ends in the following strain:--\"But though I\ncan be no longer serviceable to the honourable Faculty in that my former\ncapacity, yet there is one duty still in my power, and which can never\nbe dispensed with; and that is, that from the deep and most grateful\nsense which I shall always retain of your great and manifold favours, I\nshould earnestly pray to Almighty God for the honour, prosperity, and\nflourishing state of your most learned and useful society; that ye may\ncontinue a great ornament to those high courts, of which you are\nmembers; and that in them, and every where else, ye may shine forth with\nthat splendour and dignity, that unblemished character for justice and\nprobity, and the faithful discharge of all those duties your honourable\nprofession has laid upon you, for which you are so remarkable; and which\nthe superior name and rank you bear in the world, give your country just\nground to expect of you.\n\n\"This is the last best testimony and assurance I can give, of my most\nsincere gratitude, warm affection, and high regard to the honourable\nFaculty; and that I am, now, and always, my much honoured patrons and\nmasters, your most obliged, most humble, and most dutiful servant,--\n\n     Dum memor ipse mei, dum spiritus hos regit artus\n\n                                              \"T. RUDDIMAN.\"\n\n[20:1] These two distichs are taken from separate parts of the fourth\nbook of Ovid's \"Tristia.\" The first is accurate, but the second is\nevidently a variation of the following:\n\n     Sic ubi mota calent viridi mea pectora Thyrso\n     Altior humano spiritus ille malo est.\n\n[22:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 636. MS. R.S.E.\n\n[23:1] In a work by Dr. John Brown, called, \"An Estimate of the Manners\nand Principles of the Times,\" 1757, there is the following passage:--\"A\ncertain historian, of our own times, bent upon _popularity_ and _gain_,\npublished a large volume, and omitted no opportunity that offered to\ndisgrace religion. A large impression was published, and a small part\nsold. The author being asked why he had so larded his work with\nirreligion, his answer implied:--'He had done it that his book might\nsell.' It was whispered him, that he had totally mistaken the spirit of\nthe times;--that no allurements could engage the _fashionable_ infidel\nworld to travel through a large quarto; and that, as the few readers of\nquartos that yet remain lie mostly among the serious part of mankind, he\nhad offended his best customers, and ruined the sale of his book. This\ninformation had a notable effect; for a second volume, as large and\ninstructive as the first, hath appeared; not a smack of irreligion is to\nbe found in it; and an apology for the first concludes the whole.\"--P.\n57.\n\nDr. Brown's book is said to have been very popular, and to have run to a\nseventh edition in a few months. It is rather singular that the edition\nmarked as the seventh, has precisely the same matter in each page, and\nthe same number of pages as the first.\n\n[24:1] The letter does not appear to have been preserved.\n\n[25:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[25:2] Elliot had been made a Lord of the Admiralty in 1756.\n\n[27:1] Viz. of Edinburgh.\n\n[29:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[29:2] The title of the Epigoniad does not, unfortunately, convey any\nassociations to the general English reader, who requires to be told that\nit is derived from \u1f19\u03c0\u03af\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9, or descendants, in allusion to those of\nthe warriors who had been slain at the first siege of Thebes; and the\nmain incident of the poem is the subsequent sacking of that city. It is\nnot difficult for the reader of the better parts of the Epigoniad to\nimagine, that he is perusing Pope's translation of Homer. When an\napproach was thus made to a model so famous, all was supposed to have\nbeen gained; and it was thought that a work had been produced which\nwould stand beside the Iliad and the Odyssey. It is hardly necessary, at\nthe present day, to ask, whether the highest genius will produce an\nimmortal poem out of the machinery of another age and nation, and\nappealing to sentiments which have no response in the habits or feelings\nof the people to whom its author appeals? We read the great national\npoems of other countries in their own language, because we thus endow\nourselves, as far as it is possible, with the feeling and ideas of those\nto whom the poem was addressed. We read spirited translations, because\nthey are an attempt to represent to us, in our own tongue, that which is\ngrand in another language; and our interest is like that with which we\nview the portrait of a great man. We thus encounter Ulysses, Agamemnon,\nand Menelaus in the Iliad, with the interest of excited curiosity; and\nthose who cannot read the original, are content to make acquaintance\nwith persons whom a great genius has made so famous, even through a rude\ntranslation. But few cared to meet them reappearing in Wilkie's\nimitation; nor, however forcible may be his expressions, or flowing his\nversification, do we feel very vividly the horrors of Cacus' den, and\nthe destructive ire of the Cyclops, or sympathize in the torments of\nHercules, from the Centaur's poisoned robe, when they are described in\nthe Epigoniad.\n\n[31:1] The paper is reprinted from _The Critical Review_, in the\nAppendix to Ritchie's Life of Hume.\n\n[33:1] These fictions were to a considerable extent superseded by an\nact, so late as the year 1833; 3 & 4 Will. IV. c. 74.\n\n[34:1] In 1757 Adam Ferguson became tutor to the family of Lord Bute.\n\n[34:2] Minto MSS.\n\n[35:1] Warburton writes as follows to Hurd:--\"As to Hume, I had laid it\naside ever since you was here; I will now, however, finish my skeleton.\nIt will be hardly that. If, then, you think any thing can be made of it,\nand will give yourself the trouble, we may, perhaps, between us, do a\nlittle good, which, I dare say, we shall both think worth a little\npains. If I have any force in the first rude beating out of the mass,\nyou are best able to give it the elegance of form and splendour of\npolish. This will answer my purpose; to labour together in a joint work\nto do a little good. I will tell you fairly, it is no more the thing it\nshould be, and will be, if you undertake it, than the Dantzic iron at\nthe forge is the gilt and painted ware at Birmingham. It will make no\nmore than a pamphlet; but you shall take your own time, and make it your\nsummer's amusement, if you will. I propose it to bear something like\nthis title:--'_Remarks on Mr. Hume's late Essay, called The Natural\nHistory of Religion; by a Gentleman of Cambridge, in a Letter to the\nRev. Dr. W._' I propose the address should be with the dryness and\nreserve of a stranger, who likes the method of the letters on\nBolingbroke's Philosophy, and follows it here against the same sort of\nwriter, inculcating the same impiety, naturalism, and employing the same\nkind of arguments. The address will remove it from me; the author, a\ngentleman of Cambridge, from you; and the secrecy in printing from us\nboth.\"--_Letters from a late Eminent Prelate to one of his Friends_, p.\n240. In the immediately preceding letter, we find him saying, \"I will\ntrim the rogue's jacket, at least sit upon his skirts, as you will see\nwhen you come hither, and find his margins scribbled over.\"\n\nThus were concocted the \"Remarks on Mr. David Hume's Essay on the\nNatural History of Religion, addressed to the Rev. Dr. Warburton,\"\n(1757) wherein the candid author, in pursuance of his instructions,\nsays, \"Of my _person_, indeed, I must have leave to make no discovery;\nand to tell you the truth, I have taken such effectual precautions, as\nto that particular, that I will venture to say you will never know more\nof me than you do at present.\" The original notes are to be found in the\nquarto edition of Warburton's works. Hume says, in his \"own life,\" of\nthe Natural History of Religion, \"Its public entry was rather obscure,\nexcept only that Dr. Hurd wrote a pamphlet against it, with all the\nilliberal petulance, arrogance, and scurrility which distinguish the\nWarburtonian school. This pamphlet gave me some consolation for the\notherwise indifferent reception of my performance.\"\n\n[37:1] Probably \"An Essay towards a General History of Feudal Property\nin Great Britain, under several heads,\" 1757-8, by Mr. afterwards Sir\nJohn Dalrymple.\n\n[38:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[39:1] _Scots Magazine_ for 1802, p. 978.\n\n[40:1] These analogies are taken from the technicalities of Scots law.\nThe southern reader may as well be informed, that Prescription stands\nfor \"The Statute of Limitations\" in Scotland; that a summons is the writ\nby which the plaintiff brings the defendant into court; and that \"the\nlords' row,\" is the roll of cases in the Court of Session.\n\n[41:1] Original in the possession of the Cambusmore family.\n\n[43:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[43:2] The Painter. The \"Sketches and Essays on various subjects,\" were\nwritten by Armstrong.\n\n[43:3] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[45:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[45:2] It appears, however, from a letter to Smith, farther on, that an\nattempt had been made to procure a chair for Ferguson, in Edinburgh,\nwhich had failed.\n\n[46:1] John Stevenson was appointed professor of logic and metaphysics\nin 1730.\n\n[47:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[47:2] Without date.\n\n[47:3] Original in possession of Sir Henry Jardine.\n\n[48:1] Note B.\n\n[48:2] It is also remarkable, that there is not one letter from\nRobertson among the MSS. R.S.E., or in any known collection.\n\n[52:1] Perhaps this may be a mistake for M. M\u00e9rian, the name of the\nauthor of a translation of this essay, published in 1759.\n\n[52:2] See above, p. 408. See the letters of Helvetius in the Appendix.\nHe does not seem to have translated any of Hume's works, his proposed\nreciprocity treaty not having been concluded. He appears to have had\nconsiderably more at heart the being chosen a member of the Royal\nSociety of London, as a means of restoring his lost popularity at home.\n\n[55:1] A translation was published in 1764, by Besset de la Chapelle.\n\n[55:2] Theory of Moral Sentiments.\n\n[55:3] Essay on Taste.\n\n[55:4] See next page.\n\n[56:1] Stewart says this is the work subsequently published under the\ntitle of \"An Essay on the History of Civil Society.\" But this may be\ndoubted: see Hume's Remarks on it at the time of publication.\n\n[56:2] See above, p. 30.\n\n[58:1] This association of names is evidently intended as a sarcasm on\nLord Lyttelton's taste.\n\n[58:2] Stewart's Life of Smith.\n\n[59:1] Probably Mr. Wilson, type-founder, Glasgow; the father of the art\nin Scotland.\n\n[61:1] He did not consider his agreement about the Treatise of Human\nNature a \"previous\" one, as the book was written. See vol. i. p. 65.\n\n[61:2] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 665. Original MS. R.S.E.\n\n[62:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[62:2] See this gentleman, who was a professor in Glasgow, mentioned\nabove, p. 59, where his name is spelt Rouat.\n\n[65:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[65:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[65:3] An account of all the books in which the constitutional\nprinciples of the history have been ably impugned, would only be\nreminding the reader of many works with which he is probably already\nfamiliar. But among the marked productions of this series, if he desire\nto have a calm appreciation of the merits of Hume's historical\ncriticism, by those who have gone over the same ground, he will peruse\nthe historical works of Hallam, and the treatises of Dr. Allen,\nincluding his articles in _The Edinburgh Review_, and his \"Inquiry into\nthe Rise and Growth of the Royal Prerogative.\" If, however, he wish to\nhave all Hume's tergiversations sifted and exposed with forensic\nacuteness, and the zeal of an able and vigilant prosecutor,--to have\nbefore him, in short, the whole \"case\" of the British constitution\nagainst Hume, let him read Brodie's \"History of the British Empire.\" It\nwill gratify all the admirers of his book to know, that Mr. Brodie is\noccupied in the preparation of a new edition of his great work, which\nwill, no doubt, be marked by all the same qualities which distinguished\nthe first, increased by farther study and enthusiastic research. It is a\nsingular incident in literary history, that immediately after the\nappearance of the first edition, filled as it is with a prodigious array\nof notes and references, the subject was gone over by Godwin in his\n\"History of the Commonwealth,\" with but slight reference to Mr. Brodie's\nbook; but in such a manner, from the structure of his narrative and\notherwise, as to show that he had scarcely any other book before him.\n\nThis is not the place for a discussion of Mr. Brodie's charges against\nHume: they are honestly supported by references, and will stand or fall\non their own merits. But there is one instance in which Mr. Brodie's\nacuteness has led him farther than every one can follow him. Thus,\nspeaking of a particular passage of Hume, he says, \"he has given the\nvery words of Perinchief, whom he yet durst not quote; and his\npencil-marks are still at the place in the copy belonging to the\nAdvocates' Library.\" This statement, to the effect that there exists\nevidence of Hume having read passages which he has designedly avoided\nciting, is frequently repeated; and if one would absolutely assure\nhimself that Hume had read the passages, by reference to the copies of\nthe books in the Advocates' Library, he finds one or two scores drawn\nacross the margin with a pencil! The distinguished historical critic,\nwho has noticed this circumstance, must make some allowance for the\ninferior acumen of ordinary readers, if they should fail to discover why\nthis simple score must of necessity be David Hume--his mark.\n\nMr. Brodie's book is particularly valuable as a criticism on Hume's\nnotions of the old prerogative in relation to the Star Chamber, the\nCourt of High Commission, Martial Law, Impressments, and Forced Loans.\n\n[68:1] Locke gives an admirable illustration of the sceptical spirit\nworking on imperfect data, in the following anecdote. \"It happened to a\nDutch ambassador, who, entertaining the King of Siam with the\nparticularities of Holland, which he was inquisitive after, amongst\nother things, told him, that the water in his country would sometimes,\nin cold weather, be so hard, that men walked upon it, and that it would\nbear an elephant if he were there. To which the king replied, 'Hitherto\nI have believed the strange things which you have told me, because I\nlook upon you as a sober fair man: but now I am sure you lie.'\"--_On the\nUnderstanding_, book iv. chap. 15, \u00a7 5.\n\n[71:1] The forms of voting and coming to a decision in the British\nParliament have been adopted by other countries, not from any partiality\ntowards our systems, but because in this we seem to have approached\nabstract perfection; and the framers of codes, after all endeavours to\nmake forms of like excellence, are obliged to have recourse to those\nwhich have been followed for centuries in St. Stephen's. In the French\nAssemblies, ingenuity was frequently exercised in vain to devise some\nplan by which, after a series of proposals had been made, and debated\nupon, the sense of the meeting in regard to them might be ascertained\nand recorded without the record being liable to be questioned as\ninaccurate. In the English system, the matter is at once solved. Each\nproposed resolution is made and put on record before the discussion\nbegins, and however many different proposals there may be in relation to\nthe subject of debate, they must be all put in writing, and each one\nmust be singly, and without intermixture with the others, adopted or\nrejected by a vote of the house.\n\n[72:1] He seems to have afterwards soothed himself with the reflection\nthat his historical speculations were in favour of the stability of a\nfixed government, and opposed to innovating principles. In a letter to\nMadame de Boufflers, dated 23d Dec. 1768, he says:--\n\n\"Indeed, the prospect of affairs here is so strange and melancholy, as\nwould make any one desirous of withdrawing from the country at any rate.\nLicentiousness, or rather the frenzy of liberty, has taken possession of\nus, and is throwing every thing into confusion. How happy do I esteem\nit, that in all my writings I have always kept at a proper distance from\nthat tempting extreme, and have maintained a due regard to magistracy\nand established government, suitably to the character of an historian\nand a philosopher! I find, on that account, my authority growing daily;\nand indeed have now no reason to complain of the public, though your\npartiality to me made you think so formerly. Add to this, that the\nking's bounty puts me in a very opulent situation. I must, however,\nexpect that, if any great public convulsion happen, my appointments will\ncease, and reduce me to my own revenue: but this will be sufficient for\na man of letters, who surely needs less money both for his entertainment\nand credit, than other people.\"--_Private Correspondence_, p. 266.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n1760-1762. \u00c6t. 49-51.\n\n     Alterations of the History in the direction of Despotic\n     Principles--Specimens--Alterations in Style--Specimens--His\n     Elaboration--Ossian's Poems--Labours at the early part of the\n     History--Ferguson's \"Sister Peg\"--Acquaintance with Madame de\n     Boufflers--Account of that lady--First intercourse with\n     Rousseau--Rousseau's position--The exiled Earl Marishal--\n     Campbell and his Dissertation on Miracles.\n\n\nWe have seen, from various indications in Hume's letters to his friends,\nthat he employed himself occasionally in corrections and alterations of\nthe published volumes of his History. In these revisals, and especially\nin that of the \"History of the Stuarts,\" his alterations were not\nlimited to the style. He tells us, with a sort of scornful candour, in\nhis \"own life,\" \"Though I had been taught by experience that the Whig\nparty were in possession of bestowing all places, both in the state and\nin literature, I was so little inclined to yield to their senseless\nclamour, that in above a hundred alterations which farther study,\nreading, or reflection engaged me to make in the reigns of the two first\nStuarts, I have made all of them invariably to the Tory side. It is\nridiculous to consider the English constitution, before that period, as\na regular plan of liberty.\"\n\nIt was part of his nature, when popular clamour called for the adoption\nof a particular course, to turn his steps for that reason the more\ndistinctly in the opposite direction. He has not exaggerated the extent\nor character of his alterations; for an inspection of the various\neditions of his History which came under his own revision, shows him, by\nturns of expression, structure of narrative, and other gentle\nalterations, approaching closer and closer to despotic principles. The\ndemocratic opinions contained in his early essays, have already been\nalluded to; and their suppression in subsequent editions, harmonizes\nwith these variations of the opinions expressed in his History.[74:1]\n\nThere are, however, a very few alterations in an opposite spirit. Thus,\nin the following sentence relative to the proceedings of the House of\nCommons regarding the militia, the part in italics is suppressed in the\nlater editions. \"He [the king] issued proclamations against this\nmanifest usurpation; _the most precipitant and most enormous of which\nthere is any instance in the English history_.\"\n\nOn one incident of some importance in history, he was obliged materially\nto change his ground of argument, yet would not alter his original\nopinion. During the fervour of the civil wars in 1646, Lord Glamorgan\nhad in the name of Charles I. concluded a treaty with the confederated\nIrish Catholics, by which, on the condition of their aiding the king,\nbesides other concessions, the Roman Catholic religion was to be\nrestored to its old supremacy through a great part of Ireland. Ormond,\nthe lord lieutenant, charged Glamorgan with high treason: but he\nproduced two commissions from the king. The king disowned the\ncommissions: but the parliament believed in their genuineness.--It was\nin this shape that the matter appeared in the first instance before\nHume. In his first edition he accordingly maintained that the\ncommissions were forgeries; and a long note, explanatory of the grounds\nof this belief, is a remarkable instance of a plausible fabric of\nhistorical reasoning, doomed afterwards to fall to pieces by the removal\nof its foundation. Before he published his second edition, he received a\nletter from the Rev. John Douglas, afterwards Bishop of Carlisle,[78:1]\nwho was intrusted with the editing of the Clarendon Papers. In this\ncommunication, the reverend gentleman regrets that he cannot send to\nHume a letter written by Glamorgan, describing the method in which the\ncommissions were actually prepared, and its object; but he gives an\naccount of the contents of the letter.[78:2] Hume could no longer hold\nthat the commissions were not genuine: but he still maintained Charles\nto be guiltless; and though they were unknown to the lord lieutenant,\nand bore no attestation of having passed through the proper offices, he\nstill argued that Glamorgan, in treating with the Irish, though he was\nwithin the letter of his very wide powers, must have exceeded his\ninstructions; and ingeniously pointed to his work, \"The century of\nInventions,\" in connexion with which Lord Glamorgan is better known, by\nhis subsequent title of Marquis of Worcester, as the production of a man\nwho never could have been trusted with powers so extensive as those\nwhich he arrogated.\n\nBesides the variations in political opinion, there were in the\nsubsequent editions of Hume's History other alterations suggested by\nother influences. His opinions were self-formed, and he jealously\nprotected them in their formation from the influence of other minds; but\nin the cultivation of his style he sought assistance with avidity\nfrom all who could afford it. Hence he appears to have earnestly\nsolicited the aid of Lyttelton, Mallet, and others, whose experience of\nEnglish composition might enable them to detect Scotticisms.\n\n[Illustration: SPECIMEN OF THE M.S. OF HUME'S HISTORY.\n\nREIGN OF HENRY II. PUBLISHED IN 1762.]\n\nBefore they went to press, his compositions underwent a minute and\nrigorous correction. His manuscripts, as the small fac-simile engraved\nfor these volumes shows, were subjected to a painful revisal. We\nsometimes find him, after he has adopted a form of expression, scoring\nit out and substituting another; but again, on a comparison of their\nmutual merits, restoring the rejected form, and perhaps again discarding\nit when he has lighted on a happier collocation of words.[79:1] It is\nworthy of remark, that his most brilliant passages are those which bear\nthe least appearance of being amended. It is not thence to be inferred\nthat these passages sprang from his mind in their full symmetry and\nbeauty: but rather that they had been elaborated, and made ready for\ninsertion in their proper place, before they were put in writing.\n\nWe now resume the correspondence; which will be found to have reference,\namong other topics, to the preparation of the History anterior to the\naccession of the Tudors.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 22d March, 1760._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--You gave me a very sensible pleasure in informing me so\nearly of the success of 'The Siege of Aquileia'[81:1] on its first\nrepresentation. I hope it sustained its reputation after it came into\nprint. I showed Mr. Kincaid your letter; and he has published an\nedition here, of a thousand, which go off very well. As he had published\na pamphlet, this winter, which he got from you, I told him that I\nfancied you would be satisfied with the same terms, which he then agreed\nto.\n\n\"I am very busy, and am making some progress; but find that this part of\nEnglish History is a work of infinite labour and study; which, however,\nI do not grudge; for I have nothing better nor more agreeable to employ\nme. I have sent you a short catalogue of books, which either are not in\nthe Advocates' Library, or are not to be found at present. I must beg of\nyou to procure them for me, and to send them down with the first ship.\nSend me also the prices; for I shall be able to engage the curators of\nthe library to take from me such as they want at the price.\n\n\"Dr. Birch, (to whom make my compliments,) will be so good as to give\nyou his advice about buying these books; and will tell you if several of\nthem are collected in volumes, as is often the case with the old English\nhistorians.\n\n\"I hope Lord Lyttelton and Mr. Mallet are as busy as I; if so, we may\nexpect to see their history soon. Please to inform me what you hear of\nthem. We are informed that Lord Lyttelton is soon to appear. I wish very\nmuch to have the benefit of his work before I go to the press. Donaldson\ntold me, that Strahan has, at last, finished the small edition of my\nEssays, and that you have shipped his and Kincaid's number. They are\nresolved, I find, to dispose of them all in this place. I hope you have\nnot forgot to send me half a dozen of copies in sheets, the number which\nwe agreed to on any new edition.\n\n\"Your press, in London, has been somewhat barren this winter. We have\nhad nothing from you but a good pamphlet or two, and have, I think,\npaid the same in kind. Our militia pamphlet was certainly wrote with\nspirit; and has been twice reprinted, as I hear, in London.[83:1] I beg\nto be remembered to Mrs. Millar; and please tell her that I am very\nsorry we shall not have the pleasure of seeing her here this summer. I\ncould wish her just as much sickness as to make her sensible that\ntravelling is good for her. My compliments to Dr. Douglas and Strahan,\nand to Friend Cummin, who, I hope, sees now a better prospect of\novercoming all his difficulties. I am,\" &c.\n\n\nThe following letter, though it must be already familiar to many\nreaders, is so clear an exposition of the writer's views on some\nbranches of historical and biographical literature, that it ought not to\nbe omitted.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. ROBERTSON.\n\n     I have frequently thought, and talked with our common friends\n     upon the subject of your letter. There always occurred to us\n     several difficulties with regard to every subject we could\n     propose. The ancient Greek history has several\n     recommendations, particularly the good authors from which it\n     must be drawn: but this same circumstance becomes an\n     objection, when more narrowly considered; for what can you do\n     in most places with these authors but transcribe and translate\n     them? no letters or state papers from which you could correct\n     their errors, or authenticate their narration, or supply\n     their defects. Besides, Rollin is so well wrote with respect\n     to style, that with superficial people it passes for\n     sufficient. There is one Dr. Lelland, who has lately wrote the\n     life of Philip of Macedon, which is one of the best periods.\n     The book, they tell me, is perfectly well wrote; yet it has\n     had such small sale, and has so little excited the attention\n     of the public, that the author has reason to think his labour\n     thrown away. I have not read the book; but by the size, I\n     should judge it to be too particular. It is a pretty large\n     quarto. I think a book of that size sufficient for the whole\n     History of Greece till the death of Philip: and I doubt not\n     but such a work would be successful, notwithstanding all these\n     discouraging circumstances. The subject is noble, and Rollin\n     is by no means equal to it.\n\n     I own, I like still less your project of the age of Charles\n     the Fifth. That subject is disjointed; and your hero, who is\n     the sole connexion, is not very interesting. A competent\n     knowledge at least is required of the state and constitution\n     of the empire; of the several kingdoms of Spain, of Italy, of\n     the Low Countries, which it would be the work of half a life\n     to acquire; and, though some parts of the story may be\n     entertaining, there would be many dry and barren; and the\n     whole seems not to have any great charms.\n\n     But I would not willingly start objections to these schemes,\n     unless I had something to propose, which would be plausible;\n     and I shall mention to you an idea which has sometimes pleased\n     me, and which I had once entertained thoughts of\n     attempting.[84:1] You may observe that, among modern readers,\n     Plutarch is, in every translation, the chief favourite of the\n     ancients. Numberless translations and numberless editions have\n     been made of him in all languages; and no translation has been\n     so ill done as not to be successful. Though those who read the\n     originals never put him in comparison either with Thucydides\n     or Xenophon, he always attaches more the reader in the\n     translation; a proof that the idea and execution of his work\n     is, in the main, happy. Now, I would have you think of writing\n     modern lives, somewhat after that manner: not to enter into a\n     detail of the actions, but to mark the manners of the great\n     personages, by domestic stories, by remarkable sayings, and by\n     a general sketch of their lives and adventures. You see that\n     in Plutarch the life of C\u00e6sar may be read in half an hour.\n     Were you to write the life of Henry the Fourth of France after\n     that model, you might pillage all the pretty stories in Sully,\n     and speak more of his mistresses than of his battles. In\n     short, you might gather the flower of all modern history in\n     this manner: the remarkable Popes, the Kings of Sweden, the\n     great discoverers and conquerors of the New World; even the\n     eminent men of letters, might furnish you with matter, and the\n     quick despatch of every different work would encourage you to\n     begin a new one. If one volume were successful, you might\n     compose another at your leisure, and the field is\n     inexhaustible. There are persons whom you might meet with in\n     the corners of history, so to speak, who would be a subject of\n     entertainment quite unexpected; and as long as you live, you\n     might give and receive amusement by such a work; even your\n     son, if he had a talent for history, would succeed to the\n     subject, and his son to him. I shall insist no farther on this\n     idea; because, if it strikes your fancy, you will easily\n     perceive all its advantages, and, by farther thought, all its\n     difficulties.[85:1]\n\nIn 1760, Macpherson published those \"Fragments of Ancient Poetry,\ncollected in the Highlands of Scotland, and translated from the Gaelic\nor Erse language,\" which, afterwards enlarged, became the celebrated\n\"Ossian's Poems.\" Hume took an early interest in this professed\nresuscitation of early national literature. He at first doubted the\ntruth of assertions so unprecedented in literary history, as those by\nwhich the genuineness of the poems was maintained. But there was nothing\nto which his heart would have responded with a warmer enthusiasm than\nthe discovery, that his ancestors, generally reputed to be but late\naccessions to civilization, could look back upon a literature as rich\nand great as that which had crowned Greece with the literary supremacy\nof the world. Hence, he seems to have, after some time, willingly\nyielded to a belief in the genuineness of these poems. His good sense\nand sceptical spirit, however, resumed the supremacy, and he afterwards\nwrote a very searching though short \"Essay on the Authenticity of\nOssian's Poems.\" It is printed in the Appendix; and thither the whole\ncorrespondence on the subject is transferred, that the reader may peruse\nthe various pieces in a series. It is probable that the sole reason why\nHume never published this detection, was a kindly feeling to his friend\nDr. Blair, against whom he might not wish to appear in a controversy,\nwhere the critical powers of the latter would be so severely tested. And\nyet they stood on perfectly fair ground. Neither Hume nor Blair had any\nknowledge of the arch\u00e6ological merits of the question. Each of them\ndiscussed the probable genuineness of the poems on grounds as purely\ncritical as if they had been brought from Central Africa, instead of\nbeing the alleged literature of a people who are supposed to have at one\ntime occupied the ground on which Edinburgh is built; and at the time of\nthat controversy, as at the present day, might be visited on a journey\nof fifty miles. In such a state of knowledge, it required great freedom\nand decision in criticism to pronounce the poems forgeries. Then, as\nnow, every genuine Celt protested that he had heard them over and over\nagain in Gaelic with his own ears; and with this only difference from\nthe translation, that there were peculiar delicate beauties in the\nnative Gaelic, which neither Macpherson, nor any other man, was capable\nof expressing in English. In such an unequal controversy, between the\ninternal evidence of criticism, and the external evidence of broad\nassertion, it is singular that no one should have attempted to solve the\nquestion through the faint light which the chronicles of the surrounding\ntribes throw on the history of the Celts in Scotland. That knowledge has\nnow been pretty widely extended; and hence \"Ossian's Poems\" have been\nestimated at their true value, as an embossment of poetical language and\nimagery, on the surface of such barren metrical narratives as all\nuncivilized and warlike people possess; it has been found that the\nstructure of the narratives, the characteristic names, the events of\nhistory, and the manners of the times, have been treated with no more\ndeference, when an alteration was found to suit the purpose of the\n\"translator.\"[87:1]\n\nIntensely occupied with his History anterior to the accession of the\nTudors, we thus find Hume writing to Millar on 27th October:--\n\n\n\"I have been very busy ever since I came down; and if I keep my health,\nshall be able to publish the winter after the next, or at farthest in\nthe subsequent spring; which I fancy will serve your purpose well\nenough. At any rate, this is not a matter which I can hurry on faster\nthan I am able to satisfy myself in the execution.\n\n\"I am very much pleased with what you tell me, that the Clarendon Papers\nhave fallen into Dr. Douglas's hands, especially as Dr. Robertson tells\nme he intends to publish them. What my sentiments are on the question\nyou mention, you may learn from my letter to the Doctor, which I have\nsent you open, and which I beg you to take the trouble of sending; for I\ndo not know how to direct it.\"\n\n\nHume wished to amuse himself with mystifying his friends about the\npamphlet above alluded to, called Sister Peg. The circumstance which\nsuggested to him the following letter, is said to have been his being\nkept in ignorance that his friend Ferguson was the author of the piece.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CARLYLE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 3d February, 1761._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am informed that you have received a letter from London,\nby which you learn that the manuscript of Sister Peg has been traced to\nthe printer's, and has been found to be, in many places, interlined and\ncorrected in my handwriting. I could have wished that you had not\npublished this piece of intelligence before you told me of it. The truth\nis, after I had composed that trifling performance, and thought I had\nmade it as correct as I could, I gave it to a sure hand to be\ntranscribed, that in case any of the London printers had known my hand,\nthey might not be able to discover me. But as it lay by me some weeks\nafterwards, I could not forbear reviewing it; and not having my\namanuensis at hand, I was obliged in several places to correct it\nmyself, rather than allow it to go to the press with inaccuracies of\nwhich I was sensible. I little dreamed that this small want of\nprecaution would have betrayed me so soon; but as you know that I am\nvery indifferent about princes or presidents, ministers of the gospel or\nministers of state, kings or keysars, and set at defiance all powers,\nhuman or infernal, I had no other reason for concealing myself, but in\norder to try the taste of the public; whom, though I also set in some\ndegree at defiance, I cannot sometimes forbear paying a little regard\nto. I find that frivolous composition has been better received than I\nhad any reason to expect, and therefore cannot much complain of the\ninjury you have done me by revealing my secret, and obliging me to\nacknowledge it more early than I intended. The only reason of my writing\nto you is, to know the printer's name, who has so far broke his\nengagements as to show the manuscript; for the bookseller assured my\nfriend to whom I intrusted it, that we might depend upon an absolute\nsecrecy. I beg my compliments to Mrs. Carlyle, and am, dear sir,\"\n&c.[89:1]\n\n\nWe see by the date of the following letter, that Hume varied his city\nlife with an occasional residence with his brother in Berwickshire.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Ninewells, 29th June, 1761._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--As your professorship of Hebrew is vacant, I have been\napplied to in behalf of young Mr. Cummin; and you are the person with\nwhom I am supposed to have some interest. But as I imagine you will not\nput this election on the footing of interest, I shall say nothing on\nthat head; but shall speak much more to the purpose by informing you,\nthat I have known Mr. Cummin for some time, and have esteemed him a\nyoung man of exceeding good capacity, and of a turn towards literature.\nHe tells me that he has made the oriental tongues, and particularly the\nHebrew, a part of his study, and has made some proficiency in them. But\nof this fact, craving his pardon, I must be allowed to entertain some\ndoubt; for if Hebrew roots, as Cowley says, thrive best in barren\nsoil,[90:1] he has a small chance of producing any great crop of them.\nBut as you commonly regard the professorship of Hebrew as a step towards\nother professorships, in which a good capacity can better display\nitself, you will permit me to give it as my opinion, that you will find\nit difficult to pitch on a young man, who is more likely to be a credit\nto your college, by his knowledge and industry.\n\n\"I am so far on my road to London, where I hope to see you this season.\nI shall lodge in Miss Elliot's, Lisle Street, Leicester Fields; and I\nbeg it of you to let me hear from you the moment of your arrival.\"[90:2]\n\n\nIn 1761, commenced Hume's acquaintance with Madame de Boufflers. It\nafterwards ripened into a friendship, of which we cannot fully estimate\nthe nature, without looking not only at the character and position of\nthe parties, but at some conventional notions of morality, to which Hume\nhad been, previously, a stranger. Hyppolyte de Saujon, Comtesse de\nBoufflers-Rouvel, is not to be confounded with her contemporary the\nMarquise de Boufflers-R\u00e9mencourt, mother of the witty Chevalier de\nBoufflers. The prominent difference between them is but too startlingly\ncharacteristic of the moral atmosphere in which they both lived--that\nthe former was mistress of the Prince of Conti, while the latter is\nsupposed to have held the same relation to Prince Stanislaus Augustus of\nPoland, of whose court she was the great ornament and attraction. A\nfriendship between a respectable Scotsman of letters and a person in\nMadame de Boufflers' position, is apt to excite a smile or a frown,\naccording to the habits or temper of the reader. Hume himself was not\nlikely to take the most austere view of the matter; and must have felt,\nat any rate, that the scandal and even the blame of such connexions must\nbe greatly affected by the countenance they receive from the society to\nwhich the parties belong. On the vileness of this code of organized\nimmorality, it would be superfluous, at this hour, to enlarge; but there\nis a great difference between those who act up to the standard of a low\nsocial system and those who do the same acts in breach of a higher code.\nA Mahomedan who keeps a harem in Constantinople is inferior in his tone\nof morality to an English gentleman, of good domestic conduct; but he is\ninfinitely superior to an Englishman with a harem in Piccadilly.\n\nThe lady in question undoubtedly held a very high station in the best\nsociety of Paris; and at that time, and in that country, it is certain\nthat such attachments, if permanent and decorous, and in a very high\nclass of society, acquired a more than tolerated respectability. In\n1769, Madame de Boufflers speaks of her attachment as one of twenty\nyears' duration. Early in life, and soon after her marriage, she had\nbeen placed at the court of the Duchess of Orleans: but quarrelling with\nthat princess, she came under the protection of the Prince of Conti. Of\ncourse, her correspondence bears no mark of her having been subjected to\nslights, or of her dreading them; or indeed of any suspicion that there\nwas any thing in her position to prevent her from being rigid in her\nideas of virtue, and a teacher of social duties. On her visit to\nEngland, she was well received by the British aristocracy, and was even\nhonoured by a laudatory growl from Johnson. We find her exchanging\nvisits with the Marchioness of Hertford, the wife of the English\nambassador, one of the purest of that portion of the English female\naristocracy which had not suffered taint. In one of her letters to Hume,\nshe describes the death-bed of the prince's mother; speaks of her\ndisplaying the heroism of a grand-daughter of the great Cond\u00e9; and talks\nwith tearful gratitude of the early kindness of that princess to\nherself, and of her attempts to pay the debt by solacing her old age,\nand performing to her the last duties which the living receive from each\nother. It is in all its spirit the letter of a daughter-in-law.\n\nThe prince, though a generous and kind-hearted man, could not be\nprevailed on to make her his wife on her husband's death; but when he\ndied in 1776, he had raised no princess over her head. We shall find\nthat she made Hume the confidant in her griefs and disappointments, and\nthe adviser in her difficulties. There is a great air of earnestness and\nsolicitude in these appeals; and though we cannot help presuming, that a\nwoman so full in her disclosures to a foreigner, living among a people\nof totally different habits and morals, must have distributed a still\nlarger portion of her confidential revelations nearer home; yet it is\nevident that she had much reliance on Hume's counsel, and perhaps he was\nnot ill fitted for a father-confessor to such a penitent.\n\nThe letters of Hume to the countess, have already been for some time\nbefore the English reader.[92:1] On the present occasion some\ncharacteristic extracts will be interwoven with the letters which form\nthe other side of the correspondence. It is difficult for a native of\nthis country, with the fullest allowance for the redundancy of the\nFrench laudatory and amicable vocabulary, to estimate at its true value\nthe ardour of these letters, or to adjust the amount of solid truth and\nfriendliness represented by such a blaze of ardent expressions. The\ncorrespondence was of the lady's seeking and pursuing. Frequently, when\nthere is a pause, an impassioned letter from her rouses up the\nphilosopher; who starts into a sort of artificial excitement, and, when\nit is over, sinks into lethargy again. Yet it must be admitted that Hume\nacted his part pretty well, and that the fat philosopher was not far\nbehind the vivacious Frenchwoman. But with him it is visibly all acting;\nand there is a total absence of the playful ease which adorns those\nletters to his own chosen friends, with whom he was in heart and habits\nat ease. In some instances, perhaps, he studied a formal and measured\nstyle, as being more intelligible to a foreigner; and occasionally we\nfind him offering his correspondent facilities by the adoption of idioms\nmore French than English; as where he says, \"I am truly ashamed, dear\nmadam, of your having _prevented_ me in breaking our long silence; but\nyou have _prevented_ me only a few days.\"[93:1]\n\nThe letter with which the countess opens the correspondence, seems to\nhave been forwarded to Hume by Lord Elibank's brother, Alexander Murray,\nwho was then mixing with the Jacobites abroad, and who appears to have\nenjoyed a very wide and much varied circle of acquaintance in France. He\nsays, in a letter of the 18th May, 1761:--\n\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--It would appear great presumption in me to make you any\ncompliments upon your History of England, after having read the\nenclosed; which with infinite pleasure I send you, as it procures you a\ncorrespondence with the most amiable and accomplished lady of this\nkingdom, or indeed any other. If after the peace you take a trip to this\npolite and elegant country, you are sure, by the means of your new\nfemale correspondent, of being made acquainted in a very short time with\nall the wits in this part of the world. It is true your most\nincomparable productions justly entitle you to that distinction.\nHowever, being took by the hand by Madame de Boufflers, won't diminish\nyour intrinsic value, even among the most profound philosophers. In case\nI can't return to England, and you take the resolution of coming here .\n. . . . . I beg leave to assure you that I am, with as much esteem and\nveneration as human creature can be, my dear sir, your most obedient and\nmost humble servant, and avowed friend,\n\n                                                 \"A. MURRAY.\n\n\"When you answer the enclosed, I beg it may be in English, as the lady\nis quite mistress of that language.\"[94:1]\n\n\nThe letter forwarded to Hume was as follows:\n\n\nMADAME DE BOUFFLERS _to_ HUME.\n\n(_Translation._)\n\n     For a long time, sir, I have struggled with conflicting\n     sentiments. The admiration which your sublime work has\n     awakened in me, and the esteem with which it has inspired me\n     for your person, your talents, and your virtue, have often\n     aroused the desire of writing to you, that I might express\n     those sentiments towards you with which I am so deeply\n     penetrated.\n\n     On the other hand, keeping in view the little value you can\n     have for my opinion, your want of personal acquaintance with\n     me, and the reserve and privacy, even, which are suitable to\n     my sex, I fear being accused of presumption, and of making\n     myself be known, to my own disadvantage, by a man whose good\n     opinion I shall always regard as the most flattering, and the\n     most precious of benefits. Nevertheless, although the\n     reflections I have made on this subject appeared to have much\n     force, an irresistible inclination rendered them unavailing;\n     and I come to add one to the thousand other instances, to\n     justify the truth of that remark which I have read in your\n     \"History of the House of Stuart,\"--\"Men's views of things are\n     the result of their understanding alone: their conduct is\n     regulated by their understanding, their temper, and their\n     passions.\" Thus, when my reason tells me I ought to be silent,\n     my enthusiasm prevents me from regarding its voice.\n\n     Although a woman, and of no very advanced age, despite the\n     dissipation attendant on the life one leads in this country,\n     having always loved reading, there are few good books in any\n     language, or of any kind, that I have not read, either in the\n     original, or in translations; and I can assure you, sir, with\n     a sincerity which cannot be questioned, that I have found none\n     which, to my judgment, unites so many perfections as your own.\n     I know no terms capable of expressing what I felt in reading\n     this work. I was moved, transported: and the emotion which it\n     caused me is, in some measure, painful by its continuance. It\n     elevates the soul; it fills the heart with sentiments of\n     humanity and benevolence; it enlightens the intellect, by\n     showing that true happiness is closely connected with virtue;\n     and discovers, by the same light, what is the end, and the\n     sole end, of every reasonable being. In the midst of the\n     calamities which, on all sides, surrounded Charles the First,\n     we see peace and security shining in their brightness, and\n     accompanying him to the scaffold; whilst trouble and remorse,\n     the inseparable companions of crime, follow the steps of\n     Cromwell, even to the throne.\n\n     Your book also teaches how the best of things are liable to\n     abuse; and the reflections which are made on this subject\n     ought to augment our caution and distrust of ourselves. It\n     animates with a noble emulation; it inspires love of liberty;\n     and teaches, at the same time, submission to the government\n     under which we are obliged to live. In a word, it is a _terra\n     fecunda_ of morals and instruction, presented in colours so\n     bright, that we believe we see them for the first time.\n\n     The clearness, the majesty, the touching simplicity of your\n     style delight me. Its beauties are so striking, that,\n     notwithstanding my ignorance of the English language, they\n     cannot escape me. You are, sir, an admirable painter: your\n     pictures have a grace, a nature, an energy, which surpass even\n     what the imagination can portray.\n\n     But how shall I be able to express the effect produced upon me\n     by your divine impartiality? I would that I had, on this\n     occasion, your own eloquence in which to express my thought!\n     In truth, I believed I had before my eyes the work of some\n     celestial being, free from the passions of humanity, who, for\n     the benefit of the human race, has deigned to write the events\n     of these latter times.\n\n     I dare only add, that in all which issues from your pen, you\n     show yourself a perfect philosopher, a statesman, a historian\n     full of genius, an enlightened politician, a genuine patriot.\n     All these sublime qualities are so far above the understanding\n     of a woman, that it is fitting I should say little on the\n     subject; and I have already great need of your indulgence for\n     the faults I have committed against discretion and decorum, by\n     the excess of my veneration for your merit. I entreat this of\n     you, sir, and, at the same time, the greatest secrecy. The\n     step I have taken is rather extraordinary. I fear it may\n     attract blame: and I would be grieved if the sentiment which\n     has constrained me to it should be misunderstood.\n\n     I have the honour to be, sir, your very humble and very\n     obedient servant,\n\n                 HYPPOLYTE DE SAUJON, COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.\n\n     They tell me, sir, you have some idea of coming to France--to\n     Paris. I earnestly wish you would execute this resolution,\n     and that I may be able to assist in rendering your sojourn\n     agreeable.\n\n     PARIS, _15th March, 1761_.[97:1]\n\nHume must have been the more than mortal being which his new friend\ndescribes, if he had resisted such an appeal; and he thus wrote in\nanswer:--\n\n\nHUME _to the_ COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.\n\n     _Edinburgh, 15th May, 1761._\n\n     MADAM,--It is not easy for your ladyship to imagine the\n     pleasure I received from the letter, with which you have so\n     unexpectedly honoured me, nor the agreeable visions of vanity,\n     in which, upon that occasion, I indulged myself. I concluded,\n     and, as I fancied, with certainty, that a person, who could\n     write so well herself, must certainly be a good judge of\n     writing in others; and that an author, who could please a lady\n     of your distinction, educated in the court of France, and\n     familiarized with every thing elegant and polite, might\n     reasonably pretend to some degree of merit, and might presume\n     to take his rank above the middling historians. But, madam, it\n     is but fair, that I, who have pretended, in so long a work, to\n     do justice to all parties and persons, should also do some to\n     myself; and should not feed my vanity with chimeras, which, I\n     am sensible, in my cooler moments, can have no foundation in\n     reason. When I had the pleasure of passing some time in\n     France, I had the agreeable experience of the polite\n     hospitality, by which your nation is distinguished; and I now\n     find, that the same favourable indulgence has appeared in your\n     ladyship's judgment of my writings. And, perhaps, your esteem\n     for the entire impartiality which I aim at, and which, to tell\n     the truth, is so unusual in English historians, has made your\n     ladyship overlook many defects, into which the want of art or\n     genius has betrayed me.\n\n     In this particular, madam, I must own, that I am inclined to\n     take your civilities in their full latitude, and to hope that\n     I have not fallen much short of my intentions. The spirit of\n     faction, which prevails in this country, and which is a\n     natural attendant on civil liberty, carries every thing to\n     extremes on the one side, as well as on the other; and I have\n     the satisfaction to find, that my performance has alternately\n     given displeasure to both parties. I could not reasonably hope\n     to please both: such success is impossible from the nature of\n     things; and next to your ladyship's approbation, who, as a\n     foreigner, must necessarily be a candid judge, I shall always\n     regard the anger of both as the surest warrant of my\n     impartiality.\n\n     As I find that you are pleased to employ your leisure hours in\n     the perusal of history, I shall presume to recommend to your\n     ladyship a late work of this kind, wrote by my friend and\n     countryman, Dr. Robertson, which has met with the highest\n     approbation from all good judges.\n\n     It is the \"History of Scotland\" during the age of the\n     unfortunate Queen Mary; and it is wrote in an elegant,\n     agreeable, and interesting manner, and far exceeding, I shall\n     venture to say, any performance of that kind that has appeared\n     in English. The failings of that princess are not covered\n     over; but her singular catastrophe is rendered truly\n     lamentable and tragical; and the reader cannot forbear\n     shedding tears for her fate, at the same time that he blames\n     her conduct. There are few historical productions, where both\n     the subject and execution have appeared so happy.\n\n     Some prospect is now given us, that this miserable war between\n     the two nations is drawing towards a period, and that the\n     former intercourse between them will again be renewed. If this\n     happy event take place, I have entertained hopes that my\n     affairs will permit me to take a journey to Paris; and the\n     obliging offer, which you are pleased to make me, of allowing\n     me to pay my respects to you, will prove a new and very\n     powerful inducement to make me hasten the execution of my\n     purpose.\n\n     But I give your ladyship warning, that I shall, on many\n     accounts, stand in need of your indulgence. I passed a few\n     years in France during my early youth; but I lived in a\n     provincial town, where I enjoyed the advantages of leisure for\n     study, and an opportunity of learning the language: what I had\n     imperfectly learned, long disuse, I am afraid, has made me\n     forget. I have rusted amid books and study; have been little\n     engaged in the active, and not much in the pleasurable scenes\n     of life; and am more accustomed to a select society than to\n     general companies.\n\n     But all these disadvantages, and much greater, will be\n     abundantly compensated by the honour of your ladyship's\n     protection; and I hope that my profound sense of your obliging\n     favours will render me not altogether unworthy of it.\n\n     I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect, madam,\n     your ladyship's most obedient and most humble servant.[101:1]\n\nIn return, Madame De Boufflers reiterates her compliments, vouches for\nher sincerity, and if Hume should fulfil his intention of visiting\nFrance, offers him the use of apartments, saying, that if he accept the\noffer it will be an infinite obligation to her; if he refuse it, she\nwill be vexed but not offended. She will introduce him to her circle of\nfriends, and do every thing that can tend to make his visit\nagreeable.[101:2] In answer to this, Hume finds that the warlike aspect\nof affairs will preclude him, in the meantime, from enjoying the society\n\"of a person so celebrated for her accomplishments by all who have any\nknowledge of the court of France.\"[101:3]\n\nMr. Murray's praise of Madame de Boufflers' knowledge of the English\nlanguage was not misapplied; as the following short letter, and another\nof greater length, which will be found a few pages farther on, show.\nWith a few inaccuracies, they afford a very remarkable instance of\nidiomatic acquaintance with our tongue.\n\n\n\"I have received, sir, by an unknown hand, the continuation of your\nadmirable performance. Some little perhaps of the pride so common in my\nsex, but much more the desire to contract an obligation with a man of\nyour merit, and to obtain from him so valuable a favour, have persuaded\nme I was indebted to you for it. 'Tis natural to bend our thoughts\ntowards what is most advantageous for us, however elevated it may be.\nThe wrong should be only to believe we deserve it. Then, sir, I think,\nthat in wishing such a proof of your kindness, and confessing in the\nsame time I have no right to pretend to it, I prove my just opinion of\nboth. I am, sir, your humble servant.\n\n\"_Paris, May 29, 1762._\"\n\n\nOn this, Hume, after observing with ingenious courtesy, that a fairy, a\nsylph, or a good genius, who knew his inmost thoughts, must have\nanticipated him in sending the copy of his History, continues:--\"But,\nmadam, what new wonder is this which your letter presents to me? I not\nonly find a lady, who, in the bloom of beauty and height of reputation,\ncan withdraw herself from the pleasures of a gay court, and find leisure\nto cultivate the sciences; but deigns to support a correspondence with a\nman of letters in a remote country, and to reward his labours by a\nsuffrage the most agreeable of all others, to a man who has any spark of\ngenerous sentiments or taste for true glory. Besides these unusual\ncircumstances, I find a lady, who, without any other advantages than her\nown talents, has made herself mistress of a language commonly esteemed\nvery difficult to strangers, and possesses it to such a degree as might\ngive jealousy to us who have made it the business of our lives to\nacquire and cultivate it.\n\n\"I cannot but congratulate my country on this incident, which marks the\nprogress made by its literature and reputation in foreign countries.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNearly contemporary with the Comtesse de Boufflers, comes on the scene a\nperson with whom we shall hereafter have much concern, Jean Jacques\nRousseau. He had been living under the protection of the Mar\u00e9chal de\nLuxembourg, in the celebrated hermitage near the castle of Montmorency,\nwhen he published his \"Emile.\" Highly as he was supported, the wrath of\nthe clergy prevailed; and a writ of _prise de corps_ was issued for his\napprehension. It appears that in those strange times of intolerance and\ninfidelity, there would have been no cause of wonder, if the proceedings\nhad ended in a capital conviction. With the aid of his friends, the\nLuxembourgs and Choiseuls, Rousseau fled the kingdom. On this occasion\nhe seems to have been thoroughly frightened; and his conduct was\noccasioned neither by ostentation, nor perverse discontent. His first\nplace of refuge was Neufch\u00e2tel, one of the Swiss Cantons, of which the\nsovereignty was in the house of Brandenburg. Rousseau was thus for a\ntime one of the illustrious literary men under the protection of\nFrederick the Great, though distant from his philosophical capital.\n\nHe appealed, however, to a warmer heart than ever beat in the breast of\nthe conqueror of Prague. The exiled Earl Marischal of Scotland--a valued\nfriend of Hume, as of all who became acquainted with him--was then\nGovernor of Neufch\u00e2tel. Subsequently to his flight from his native\ncountry, for his concern in the rebellion of 1715, when he was a mere\nyouth, he had suffered a long series of hardships, privations, and\nuncertainties; until Frederick saw his value, and purchased his services\nat such a rate as a friendless exile might not refuse. Adversity, which\ntoo often hardens the selfishness, and debases the propensities of an\naristocracy driven from home by internal convulsions, had but taught him\nhow much men are dependent on each other, and had opened his heart to a\nwider sympathy with his fellow creatures. His opinions were as tolerant\nas his nature was kind; and the fugitive could not have sought an asylum\nwhere he would be more sincerely welcomed. The power of the king of\nPrussia's representative, was, however, not sufficient to protect him\nfrom the people,--or from himself; and from the time of his flight from\nFrance, those who believed that he sincerely desired a retreat where he\nwould be safe from all molestation, looked towards Britain. The\nfollowing letters from the forfeited earl, at a few months' interval\nfrom each other, chiefly relate to Rousseau. The earl appears to have\nbeen so thoroughly imbued with foreign habits, that he wrote English\nwith difficulty: most of his letters to Hume are in French, and when he\ncommences in English, he generally relapses into French. Though so long\nemployed by the Prussian court, he seems to have been ignorant of\nGerman. It may be observed, however, that French is the vernacular\nlanguage of Neufch\u00e2tel.\n\n\nTHE FORFEITED EARL MARISCHAL _to_ HUME.\n\n     _April 29._\n\n     In answer to your question, the Donquixotisme you mention\n     never entered into my head. I wish I could see you, to answer\n     honestly all your questions; for though I had my share of\n     folly with others, yet as my intentions were at bottom honest,\n     I should open to you my whole budget, and let you know many\n     things which are perhaps ill-represented, I mean not truly. I\n     remember to have recommended to your acquaintance Mr. Floyd,\n     son to old David Floyd, at St. Germains, as a man of good\n     sense, honour, and honesty. I fear he is dead: he would have\n     been of great service to you in a part of your History since\n     1688. Apropos of History, when you see Helvetius, tell I\n     desired you to inquire of him concerning a certain History. I\n     fancy he will answer you with his usual frankness. I do\n     believe Mr. Rousseau will find it impossible to live where he\n     finds nobody who understands a word of what he says; there\n     occurs so often occasion, even of trifling things necessary,\n     that it is a vexation not to understand the language of the\n     country. I feel it often, though I understand many words of\n     German, such as kleigh, nigh, nogh, ter migh, ter\n     Teyfel,[105:1] and others, high sounding as here pronounced,\n     and of which the Ter Tunder would, I believe, put to flight\n     the delicate ears of the whole town of Sienna.\n\n     I hear you are going to France this summer. If you will come\n     to Frankfort on Main, I will meet you there the end of July,\n     and stay with you a fortnight. Bon jour.\n\n     N.B.--You have better roads than I, you are strong as a giant,\n     and I am growing ten years older every month; so I think my\n     offer fair.\n\n\n     _Oct. 2, 1762._\n\n     Jean Jacques Rousseau, persecuted for having writ what he\n     thinks good, or rather, as some folks think, for having\n     displeased persons in great power, who attributed to him what\n     he never meant, came here to seek retreat, which I readily\n     granted; and the king of Prussia not only approved of my so\n     doing, but gave me orders to furnish him his small\n     necessaries, if he would accept them; and though that king's\n     philosophy be very different from that of Jean Jacques, yet he\n     does not think that a man of an irreproachable life is to be\n     persecuted because his sentiments are singular. He designs to\n     build him a hermitage with a little garden, which I find he\n     will not accept, nor perhaps the rest which I have not yet\n     offered to him. He is gay in company, polite, and what the\n     French call _aimable_, and gains ground daily in the opinion\n     of even the clergy here. His enemies elsewhere continue to\n     persecute him: he is pestered with anonymous letters. This is\n     not a country for him: his attachment and love to his native\n     town is a strong tie to its neighbourhood. The liberty of\n     England, and the character of my good and honoured friend, D.\n     Hume, F----i D----r, (perhaps more singular than that of J.\n     Jacques, for I take him to be the only historian impartial,)\n     draws his inclinations to be near to the F----i D----r. For my\n     part, though it be to me a very great pleasure to converse\n     with the honest savage, yet I advise him to go to England,\n     where he will enjoy\n\n          ----placidam sub libertate quietem.\n\n     He wishes to know, if he can print all his works, and make\n     some profit, merely to live, from such an edition. I entreat\n     you will let me know your thoughts on this, and if you can be\n     of use to him in finding him a bookseller to undertake the\n     work: you know he is not interested, and little will content\n     him. If he goes to Britain, he will be a treasure to you, and\n     you to him, and perhaps both to me (if I were not so old.) I\n     have offered him lodging in Keith-hall. I am ever, with the\n     greatest regard, your most obedient servant,\n\n                                                      M----.\n\nAt the same time Madame de Boufflers wrote as follows:--\n\n\nMADAME DE BOUFFLERS _to_ HUME.\n\n(_Translation._)\n\n     _Paris, 16th June, 1762._\n\n     Jean Jacques Rousseau, citizen of Geneva, and the author of\n     many works with which you are probably acquainted, has\n     composed a Treatise on Education, in four volumes, in which he\n     sets forth many principles contrary to ours, both in politics\n     and religion. As we do not enjoy here the liberty of the\n     press, the Parliament, by a decree, just, (if it is, as I\n     doubt not, conformable to the laws of the kingdom,) but\n     nevertheless rigorous, has decreed the _prise de corps_; and\n     it is said that, if he had not taken to flight, he would have\n     been condemned to death. I can scarcely think they could have\n     proceeded so far against him as a stranger; but, be that as it\n     may, it would have been imprudent in him to remain in France\n     under such circumstances. He has therefore departed, uncertain\n     what asylum he will choose. I have advised him to go to\n     England, promising him letters of recommendation to you, and\n     other friends. I fulfil my promise, and I cannot, in my\n     opinion, choose for him, in all Europe, a protector more\n     respectable by his position, and more to be commended for his\n     humanity. M. Rousseau is known to the greater part of the\n     people in this country for an eccentric man. This epithet,\n     according to its true signification, is most justly applied to\n     him; for he differs, in many respects, in his modes of acting\n     and thinking, from the men of his day. He has an upright\n     heart, a noble and disinterested soul. He dreads every\n     species of dependence, and consequently would have preferred\n     being in France, gaining his subsistence by copying music, to\n     receiving benefits even from his best friends, who are anxious\n     to make up for his misfortunes. This delicacy may appear\n     excessive, but it is not criminal, and it even augurs elevated\n     sentiments. He flies from intercourse with the world; he feels\n     pleasure only in solitude. This partiality for retirement has\n     made him enemies. The self-love of those who court him is\n     wounded by his rebuffs; but notwithstanding such apparent\n     misanthropy, I do not believe you will find any where, a man\n     more gentle, more humane, more compassionate to the sorrows of\n     others, and more patient under his own. In short, his virtue\n     appears so pure, so contented, so equal, that, until now,\n     those who hated him could find only in their own heart reasons\n     for suspecting him. As for me, with appearances so much in his\n     favour, I would rather be deceived than doubt his sincerity.\n\n     From the opinion that I have of him, sir, he has been judged\n     worthy of being known to you; and in procuring him this\n     honour, I believe I give the most marked proof of my\n     consideration for him.[107:1]\n\nTo this Hume made answer in the postscript of the letter cited above.\n\n\n\"P.S.--So far I had wrote in answer to your ladyship's of the 29th of\nMay, when I was again honoured with yours of the 14th of June. Good God!\nmadam, how much I regret my being absent from London on this occasion,\nwhich deprives me of the opportunity of showing in person my regard for\nyour recommendation, and my esteem, I had almost said veneration, for\nthe virtue and genius of M. Rousseau. I assure your ladyship there is no\nman in Europe of whom I have entertained a higher idea, and whom I would\nbe prouder to serve; and as I find his reputation very high in England,\nI hope every one will endeavour to make him sensible of it by\ncivilities, and by services, as far as he will accept of them. I revere\nhis greatness of mind, which makes him fly obligations and dependence;\nand I have the vanity to think, that through the course of my life I\nhave endeavoured to resemble him in those maxims.\n\n\"But as I have some connexions with men of rank in London, I shall\ninstantly write to them, and endeavour to make them sensible of the\nhonour M. Rousseau has done us in choosing an asylum in England. We are\nhappy at present in a king who has a taste for literature; and I hope M.\nRousseau will find the advantage of it, and that he will not disdain to\nreceive benefits from a great monarch, who is sensible of his merit. I\nam only afraid that your friend will find his abode in England not so\nagreeable as may be wished, if he does not possess the language, which I\nam afraid is the case: for I never could observe in his writings any\nmarks of his acquaintance with the English tongue.\"[109:1]\n\n\nFrom these communications, Hume derived the notion that Rousseau had\nimmediately proceeded to London. The following paragraph, in a letter\nfrom Elliot, indicates the nature of the inquiries pursued under this\nsupposition.\n\n     DEAR SIR,--As soon as I received your letter, I applied to Mr.\n     Home, who had also heard from you by the same post, and\n     desired him to make all possible inquiry after M. Rousseau. If\n     he be in London we shall certainly find him out; and I need\n     not assure you, that both on account of his own merit, and\n     your recommendation, I shall not fail to show him all the\n     attention in my power. I should doubt, from the known\n     character of the man, whether he would accept a pension if it\n     could be procured for him; and should rather apprehend that,\n     though this government will protect and tolerate the boldness\n     of his pen, yet it will hardly reward it. Rousseau is not the\n     only man of genius, the singularity of whose opinions has\n     intercepted the rewards due to the superiority of his talents.\n\nIn the supposition that he had passed over to England, Hume addressed a\nletter to Rousseau, as then in London, which was answered by the Chien\nde Diog\u00e8ne, as Voltaire called him, from his retreat in Neufch\u00e2tel, on\n19th February, 1763. He says he has just received the letter, regrets\nthat he should have made the mistake of trusting himself among his own\ncountrymen, who have treated him with insult and outrage, instead of\nseeking the hospitable shores of Britain. He does something like justice\nto the kindness of Lord Marischal, in the midst of his general mordacity\nand discontent; and he praises the wide views, the wonderful\nimpartiality, the genius of Hume, which would raise him so far above the\nrest of his kind, did not the goodness of his heart bring him nearer to\ntheir level.[110:1]\n\nThe following letter from Madame de Boufflers, written in English, had\nbeen received in the meantime.\n\n\nMADAME DE BOUFFLERS _to_ HUME.\n\n     _July 30._\n\n     How difficult it is, sir, for one very far from being\n     insensible to reputation, to refuse the praises of a man,\n     whose sincerity and admirable talents render them so valuable.\n     But in regard to veracity, and perhaps more to my true\n     interest, I am obliged to acknowledge, I stand a great\n     distance, for internal or external accomplishments, from the\n     favourable opinion you have taken of me, whether, in\n     consulting the noble sentiments which ever inspire you with\n     sublime ideas, whether in hearkening to some of your\n     countrymen, disposed to indulgence towards me, by my\n     well-known inclination for their country.\n\n     Perhaps, sir, I confess it with ingenuity, had I been doomed\n     to be never personally acquainted with you, I should not have\n     generosity enough to correct your judgment of me. But in this\n     particular occasion, as in all other, according to my humble\n     opinion, right and good are closely united. What a shame\n     indeed for me, and disappointment for you, in place of the\n     object your imagination has adorned with such shining\n     qualifications, to find a person to whom Nature has granted\n     but indifferent ones. A great part of my youth is over. Some\n     delicacy in features, mildness and decency in countenance, are\n     the only exterior advantages I can boast of; and as for\n     interior, common sense, improved a little by early good\n     reading, are all I possess. My knowledge of the English\n     language also is confined, as you can easily perceive. I have,\n     indeed, acquired without assistance that which I know of it;\n     but if I am entitled to some elegancy, I owe it to the\n     repeated readings of your admirable works.\n\n     After this true picture of myself, in which I have struggled\n     to exert the noble impartiality and candour which shine in all\n     your writings, my first care is, sir, to acknowledge the\n     infinite obligations you have conferred upon me by your kind\n     letter. I have translated the P. S. to send it to my friend.\n     The esteem of such a man must be the best balm for his wounded\n     heart. But I am afraid he will not accept the glorious support\n     you are so good as to offer him. I fear that the weight of his\n     calamities has impaired his health, and he cannot sustain the\n     fatigues of a long journey. In his last letter to me, he\n     expresses a resolution never to see England upon that account.\n     Nevertheless, I am informed since, that new persecutions may\n     possibly determine him to alter his mind. An irregular trial\n     has deprived him of the natural rights in his own country. The\n     commonwealth of Berne, from the example of Geneva and France,\n     has burnt his book, and he has been reduced to leave in a\n     hurry the asylum that a friend had proffered him there. Such\n     are the grievous misfortunes of this virtuous and unhappy man.\n     I pity, I love him, and wish earnestly to sooth the sorrows\n     under which he labours. Nevertheless, sir, I would fain also\n     vindicate the honour of my nation in the eyes of so good a\n     judge as you are. The reflection you cast upon it gives\n     uneasiness; but mistrusting greatly my capacity, I fear to\n     betray the cause I would defend by an enterprise so unequal to\n     my force. I dare only to say, that your happy country has not\n     attained in a moment the perfect constitution which gives us\n     admiration. All convenient and well-calculated laws are not\n     framed at once; and those most exceptionable, while they\n     stand, deserve obedience and respect.\n\n     Is it possible, sir, that this late unhappy event could\n     deprive of the honour of your presence, a country filled with\n     your fervent admirers, and where every one will endeavour to\n     outdo each other in expressing the veneration and regard you\n     so justly deserve? I hope you will not keep this severe\n     resolution. If we want a liberty you think an advantage, 'tis\n     a reason to pity, and not to punish us. Besides, your case and\n     that of M. Rousseau, though both foreigners in France, are\n     quite different. Few days before I received your letter, I\n     heard that it was a friend of mine who has favoured me with\n     your last performance. I am infinitely obliged to him for this\n     gracious gift, and to you, sir, for your good intention.\n\n     But what strange a creature will you think me, to venture to\n     point a mistake in a work so perfect? In several parts of the\n     first volume our countryman Godefroy of Bouillon is named\n     Godefroy de Boulogne. You have reasons, perhaps, for the\n     alteration, and I am ready to submit to them. I would only\n     express my doubts: I hope you will excuse this freedom.\n\n     Since I have gone so far, permit me, sir, to ask your opinion\n     upon the last book of M. Rousseau. I should be very glad to\n     have my judgment of it confirmed or mended by yours. Nothing\n     would be wanting to my satisfaction, if in the same letter,\n     where you could grant me the favour I wish for, I was assured\n     you had renewed the project to come here, and that you would\n     speedily execute it. I am, sir, with esteem, gratitude, and,\n     permit me to add, friendship, your most humble servant.\n\nIn answer to this letter, Hume says that he had at first regarded it as\na sort of challenge to answer it in French, but that he had given up the\nattempt as an unequal contest with \"the sole instance of a foreigner,\nnot habituated to our tongue, who has, from reading alone, become so\nentirely mistress of it.\" He then gives an account of the letter he had\nreceived from Lord Marischal, and says of Rousseau's refusal of the\nkindnesses proferred to him,--\"Rousseau, with his usual dignity, refused\nall these gratuities, though at the same time he desired my lord to\nlearn from me, whether it were possible for him to gain from the London\nbooksellers as much money as would suffice for his maintenance; and this\nrecompense, being the fruit of his own industry, he would have no\nscruple to accept of. I think this instance of conduct a kind of\nphenomenon in the republic of letters, and one very honourable for M.\nRousseau. One is only apt to wish that he could practise this virtue\nwith less hardship and difficulty; though we must also confess, that the\ndifficulty adds to the lustre of it. I have heard, that the circumstance\nwhich deterred him from coming over to England, as he first intended,\nwas a harsh reflection, which he threw out on the people in his\n'Treatise of Education:' if this was his motive, I am persuaded that he\nwould find it a vain fear, and that every one would rather have been\nanxious to show respect to his merit.\"[113:1]\n\nHe then obeys the mandate to criticise the \"Emile.\"\n\n     You deign, madam, to ask my opinion of the new performance of\n     M. Rousseau. I know that it becomes me better to form my\n     judgment upon yours; but in compliance with your commands, I\n     shall not make a secret of my sentiments. All the writings of\n     that author appear to me admirable, particularly on the head\n     of eloquence; and if I be not much mistaken, he gives to the\n     French tongue an energy, which it scarce seems to have reached\n     in any other hands. But as his enemies have objected, that\n     with this domineering force of genius there is always\n     intermingled some degree of extravagance, it is impossible for\n     his friends altogether to deny the charge; and were it not for\n     his frequent and earnest protestations to the contrary, one\n     would be apt to suspect, that he chooses his topics less from\n     persuasion, than from the pleasure of showing his invention,\n     and surprising the reader by his paradoxes. The \"Treatise of\n     Education,\" as it possesses much of the merit, seems also\n     exposed to the faults of his other performances; and as he\n     indulges his love of the marvellous even in so serious and\n     important a subject, he has given a pledge to the public that\n     he was in earnest in all his other topics. If I dared to\n     object any thing to M. Rousseau's eloquence, which is the\n     shining side of his character, I should say, that it was not\n     wholly free from the defect sometimes found in that of the\n     Roman orator; and that their great talent for expression was\n     apt to produce a prolixity in both. This last performance\n     chiefly is exposed to this objection; and I own, that though\n     it abounds in noble and shining passages, it gave me rather\n     less pleasure than his former writings. However, it carries\n     still the stamp of a great genius; and, what enhances its\n     beauty, the stamp of a very particular genius. The noble pride\n     and spleen and indignation of the author bursts out with\n     freedom in a hundred places, and serves fully to characterize\n     the lofty spirit of the man.\n\n     When I came to peruse that passage of Mons. Rousseau's\n     Treatise, which has occasioned all the persecution against\n     him, I was not in the least surprised that it gave offence.\n     He has not had the precaution to throw any veil over his\n     sentiments; and as he scorns to dissemble his contempt of\n     established opinions, he could not wonder that all the zealots\n     were in arms against him. The liberty of the press is not so\n     secured in any country, scarce even in this, as not to render\n     such an open attack of popular prejudices somewhat\n     dangerous.[115:1]\n\nIn 1761, Dr. Blair communicated to Hume the sermon by Dr. Campbell,\nwhich, when subsequently expanded, became the \"Dissertation on\nMiracles,\" already referred to.[115:2] On this occasion, Hume wrote in\nthe following terms to Dr. Blair:--\n\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I have perused the ingenious performance, which you was so\nobliging as to put into my hands, with all the attention possible;\nthough not perhaps with all the seriousness and gravity which you have\nso frequently recommended to me. But the fault lies not in the piece,\nwhich is certainly very acute; but in the subject. I know you will say,\nit lies in neither, but in myself alone. If that be so, I am sorry to\nsay that I believe it is incurable.\n\n\"I could wish that your friend had not chosen to appear as a\ncontroversial writer, but had endeavoured to establish his principles in\ngeneral, without any reference to a particular book or person; though I\nown he does me a great deal of honour, in thinking that any thing I have\nwrote deserves his attention. For besides many inconveniences which\nattend that kind of writing, I see it is almost impossible to preserve\ndecency and good manners in it. This author, for instance, says\nsometimes obliging things of me, much beyond what I can presume to\ndeserve, and I thence conclude that in general he did not mean to insult\nme; yet I meet with some other passages, more worthy of Warburton and\nhis followers, than of so ingenious an author.\n\n\"But as I am not apt to lose my temper, and would still less incline to\ndo so with a friend of yours, I shall calmly communicate to you some\nremarks on the argument, since you seem to desire it. I shall employ\nvery few words, since a hint will suffice to a gentleman of this\nauthor's penetration.\"\n\n\nThis is followed by a particular examination of some parts of Dr.\nCampbell's work, which may be perused to most advantage in conjunction\nwith the Dissertation itself, along with which the letter is generally\nprinted. He then says,--\n\n\n\"I could wish your friend had not denominated me an infidel writer, on\naccount of ten or twelve pages, which seem to him to have that tendency,\nwhile I have wrote so many volumes on history, literature, politics,\ntrade, morals, which, in that particular at least, are entirely\ninoffensive. Is a man to be called a drunkard, because he has been seen\nfuddled once in his lifetime?\"[116:1]\n\n\nThe letter terminates with a recommendation which accounts for the\nabsence of all observations on religious topics in the correspondence\nbetween Blair and Hume: while it shows that their intercourse had not\nalways excluded discussions of such a character.\n\n\n\"Having said so much to your friend, who is certainly a very ingenious\nman, though a little too zealous for a philosopher, permit me also the\nfreedom of saying a word to yourself. Whenever I have had the pleasure\nto be in your company, if the discourse turned upon any common subject\nof literature, or reasoning, I always parted from you both entertained\nand instructed. But when the conversation was diverted by you from this\nchannel towards the subject of your profession; though I doubt not but\nyour intentions were very friendly towards me, I own I never received\nthe same satisfaction: I was apt to be tired, and you to be angry. I\nwould therefore wish, for the future, whenever my good fortune throws me\nin your way, that these topics should be forborne between us. I have\nlong since done with all inquiries on such subjects, and am become\nincapable of instruction; though I own no one is more capable of\nconveying it than yourself. After having given you the liberty of\ncommunicating to your friend what part of this letter you think proper,\nI remain, sir,\" &c.\n\n\nHume afterwards wrote the following letter on the same subject:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. CAMPBELL.\n\n\"_January 7, 1762._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--It has so seldom happened that controversies in philosophy,\nmuch more in theology, have been carried on without producing a personal\nquarrel between the parties, that I must regard my present situation as\nsomewhat extraordinary, who have reason to give you thanks for the civil\nand obliging manner in which you have conducted the dispute against me,\non so interesting a subject as that of miracles. Any little symptoms of\nvehemence, of which I formerly used the freedom to complain, when you\nfavoured me with a sight of the manuscript, are either removed or\nexplained away, or atoned for by civilities, which are far beyond what I\nhave any title to pretend to. It will be natural for you to imagine,\nthat I will fall upon some shift to evade the force of your arguments,\nand to retain my former opinion in the point controverted between us;\nbut it is impossible for me not to see the ingenuity of your\nperformance, and the great learning which you have displayed against me.\n\n\"I consider myself as very much honoured in being thought worthy of an\nanswer by a person of so much merit; and as I find that the public does\nyou justice with regard to the ingenuity and good composition of your\npiece, I hope you will have no reason to repent engaging with an\nantagonist, whom, perhaps, in strictness, you might have ventured to\nneglect. I own to you, that I never felt so violent an inclination to\ndefend myself as at present, when I am thus fairly challenged by you,\nand I think I could find something specious at least to urge in my\ndefence; but as I had fixed a resolution, in the beginning of my life,\nalways to leave the public to judge between my adversaries and me,\nwithout making any reply, I must adhere inviolably to this resolution,\notherwise my silence on any future occasion would be construed an\ninability to answer, and would be matter of triumph against me.\"[119:1]\n\n\nHe then, in the passage already cited,[119:2] describes the occasion on\nwhich the \"Theory of Miracles\" was suggested to him.\n\nIn answer to this, there is a letter by Campbell, in which he endeavours\nto rival his opponent in candour, politeness, and gentlemanlike feeling.\nThe happy courtesy with which he apologizes for the occasionally\nirascible tone of his essay, shows that the retired northern divine\npossessed in no small degree the qualities that might have adorned a\nmore showy station.\n\n\nDR. CAMPBELL _to_ HUME.\n\n     _25th June, 1762._\n\n     The testimony you are pleased to give in favour of my\n     performance, is an honour of which I should be entirely\n     unworthy, were I not sensible of the uncommon generosity you\n     have shown in giving it. Ever since I was acquainted with your\n     works, your talents as a writer have, notwithstanding some\n     differences in abstract principles, extorted from me the\n     highest veneration. But I could scarce have thought that, in\n     spite of differences of a more interesting nature, even such\n     as regard morals and religion, you could ever force me to love\n     and honour you as a man. Yet no religious prejudices (as you\n     would probably term them,) can hinder me from doing justice to\n     that goodness and candour, which appear in every line of your\n     letter.\n\n     It would be in vain to dissemble the pleasure which it gives\n     me, that I am thought to have acquitted myself tolerably in a\n     dispute with an author of such acknowledged merit. At the same\n     time, it gives me real pain, that any symptoms of vehemence\n     (which are not so easily avoided in disputation as one would\n     imagine,) should give so generous an adversary the least\n     ground of complaint. You have (if I remember right, for I have\n     not the book here,) in the appendix to the third volume of\n     your \"Treatise on Human Nature,\" apologized for using\n     sometimes the expressions--'Tis certain, 'Tis evident, and the\n     like. These, you observe, were in a manner forced from you by\n     the strong, though transient light in which a particular\n     object then appeared, and are therefore not to be considered\n     as at all inconsistent with the general principles of\n     scepticism which are maintained in the Treatise. My apology is\n     somewhat similar. There is in all controversy a struggle for\n     victory, which I may say compels one to take every fair\n     advantage that either the sentiments or the words of an\n     antagonist present him with. But the appearances of asperity\n     or raillery, which one will be thereby necessarily drawn into,\n     ought not to be constructed as in the least affecting the\n     habitual good opinion, or even the high esteem, which the\n     writer may nevertheless entertain of his adversary.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[74:1] The following contrasted extracts represent some of the\nvariations above alluded to. The passages on the one side will be found\nin the first, and those in the other in the last corrected edition of\nthe \"History of the Stuarts.\"\n\n_First edition._\n\n     _Later editions._\n\n_King James_ inculcated those monarchical tenets with which he was so\nmuch infatuated. P. 54.\n\n     Inculcated those monarchical tenets which he had so strongly\n     imbibed.\n\n_Divine right._ And though these doctrines were perhaps more openly\ninculcated and more strenuously insisted on during the reign of the\nStuarts, they were not then invented. P. 120.\n\n     And though it is pretended that these doctrines were more\n     openly inculcated, and more strenuously insisted on, during\n     the reign of the Stuarts, they were not then invented.\n\n_America._ The seeds of many a noble state have been sown in climates\nkept desolate by the wild manners of the ancient inhabitants; and an\nasylum secured in that solitary world for liberty and science, if ever\nthe spreading of unlimited empire, or the inroad of barbarous nations,\nshould again extinguish them in this turbulent and restless hemisphere.\nP. 134.\n\n     Expunged.\n\n_Charles I._ However moderate his temper, the natural illusions of\nself-love, joined to his education under James, and to the flattery of\ncourtiers and churchmen, had represented his political tenets as certain\nand uncontroverted. P. 148.\n\n     However moderate his temper, the natural and unavoidable\n     prepossessions of self-love, joined to the late uniform\n     precedents in favour of prerogative, had made him regard his\n     political tenets as certain and uncontroverted.\n\nLoans were by privy seal required of several: to others the way of\nbenevolence was proposed; methods supported by precedents, condemned by\npositive laws, and always invidious even to times more submissive and\ncompliant. In the most despotic governments, such expedients would be\nregarded as irregular and disorderly. P. 159.\n\n     Of some, loans were required: to others, the way of\n     benevolence was proposed: methods supported by precedent, but\n     always invidious even in times more submissive and compliant.\n     In the most absolute governments, such expedients would be\n     regarded as irregular and unequal.\n\nThe new counsels which Charles had mentioned to the parliament, were now\nto be tried in order to supply his necessities. Had he possessed any\nmilitary force on which he could depend, 'tis likely that he had at once\ntaken off the mask, and governed without any regard to the ancient laws\nand constitution: so high an idea had he imbibed of kingly prerogative,\nand so contemptible a notion of the privileges of those popular\nassemblies, from which he thought he had met with such ill usage. But\nhis army was new levied, ill-paid, and worse disciplined; no way\nsuperior to the militia, who were much more numerous, and who were in a\ngreat measure under the influence of the country gentlemen. It behoved\nhim therefore to proceed cautiously, and to cover his enterprises under\npretext of ancient precedents. P. 158.\n\n     The new counsels which Charles had mentioned to the\n     parliament, were now to be tried, in order to supply his\n     necessities. Had he possessed any military force on which he\n     could rely, it is not improbable that he had at once taken off\n     the mask, and governed without any regard to parliamentary\n     privileges: so high an idea had he received of kingly\n     prerogative, and so contemptible a notion of the rights of\n     those popular assemblies, from which he very naturally thought\n     he had met with such ill-usage. But his army was new levied,\n     ill-paid, and worse disciplined; nowise superior to the\n     militia, who were much more numerous, and who were in a great\n     measure under the influence of the country gentlemen. It\n     behoved him therefore to proceed cautiously, and to cover his\n     enterprises under pretence of ancient precedents, which,\n     considering the great authority commonly enjoyed by his\n     predecessors, could not be wanting to himself.\n\nIn most national debates, though the reasons may not be equally\nbalanced, yet are there commonly some plausible topics, which may be\npleaded even in favour of the weaker side; so complicated are all human\naffairs, and so uncertain the consequences of every public measure. But\nit must be confessed, that in the present case, nothing of weight can be\nthrown into the opposite scale. The imposition of ship-money, is\napparently the most avowed and most dangerous invasion of national\nprivileges, not only which Charles was ever guilty of, but which the\nmost arbitrary princes in England, since any liberty had been\nascertained to the people, had ever ventured upon. P. 218.\n\n     Expunged.\n\nPerhaps the King, who dreaded above all things the House of Commons, and\nwho never sufficiently respected the constitution, thought, that, in his\npresent urgent distresses, he might be enabled to levy subsidies, by the\nauthority of the peers alone. But the employing so long a plea of\nnecessity, which was evidently false, and ill grounded, rendered it\nimpossible for him to avail himself of a necessity which was now at last\nbecome real and inevitable. P. 247.\n\n     Perhaps the King, who dreaded above all things the House of\n     Commons, and who expected no supply from them on any\n     reasonable terms, thought, that in his present distresses, he\n     might be enabled to levy supplies by the authority of the\n     peers alone. But the employing so long the plea of a\n     necessity, which appeared distant and doubtful, rendered it\n     impossible for him to avail himself of a necessity which was\n     now at last become real, urgent, and inevitable.\n\n\n_The attempt to seize the Five Members._\n\nThis strange resolution, so incompatible with the majesty of a king, so\nimproper even for the dignity of any great magistrate, was discovered to\nthe Countess of Carlisle, sister to Northumberland, a lady of great\nspirit, wit, and intrigue. P. 318.\n\n     This resolution was discovered to the Countess of Carlisle,\n     sister to Northumberland, a lady of spirit, wit, and intrigue.\n\n[78:1] In the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[78:2] See the letter itself in the Clarendon Papers, ii. 201-3.\n\n[79:1] The following are some instances of the alterations made on the\nfirst edition of his History. The collection of these instances has been\nfacilitated by the use of a copy of the first edition of the Histories\nof the Houses of Stuart and Tudor, in the possession of a friend, on\nwhich the alterations embodied in the subsequent editions are written in\nred ink.\n\n_In the first edition._\n\n     _As altered._\n\nScotch.\n\n     Scottish.\n\nSuch was the terror, respectable and rare in a monarch.\n\n     So great was the terror, respectable as well as rare, in a\n     monarch.\n\nMay be esteemed a great reflection on his memory.\n\n     May be deemed a great reflection on his memory.\n\nBetwixt.\n\n     Between.\n\nWe come now to relate.\n\n     We are now to relate.\n\nUnder pretext of a hunting match.\n\n     On pretence of a hunting match.\n\nMaking account that.\n\n     Thinking himself assured that.\n\nTheir concurrence became requisite.\n\n     Their concurrence became necessary.\n\nAlong with.\n\n     Together with.\n\nEsteemed impartial.\n\n     Deemed impartial.\n\nTo a pitch beyond what had ever been known since.\n\n     To a height beyond what had been known since.\n\nEntirely requisite for their future safety.\n\n     Absolutely necessary for their future safety.\n\nWhen the exception really occurs, even though it be not precedently\nexpected.\n\n     When the exception really occurs, even though it be not\n     previously expected.\n\nAny way displeased at the, &c.\n\n     Any-wise displeased at the, &c.\n\nMonarchical tenets with which he was so much infatuated.\n\n     Monarchical tenets which he had so strongly imbibed.\n\nGraced with ecclesiastical titles.\n\n     Endowed with ecclesiastical titles.\n\nInflicting this sentence.\n\n     Pronouncing this sentence.\n\nConfined in the Tower.\n\n     Confined to the Tower.\n\nDebarred from such sports.\n\n     Debarred such sports.\n\nRaleigh pretended not.\n\n     Raleigh did not pretend.\n\nWar with the Spaniards.\n\n     War against the Spaniards.\n\nAs to the circumstance of the narration.\n\n     As to the circumstance of the narrative.\n\nWould have had a most just cause.\n\n     Would have had a just cause.\n\nSuch as together with.\n\n     Such as along with.\n\nInterposal in the wars.\n\n     Interposition in the wars.\n\nEffectuate a marriage.\n\n     Effect a marriage.\n\nHe was utterly devoid.\n\n     He was utterly destitute.\n\nHeadlong in his passions.\n\n     Headstrong in his passions.\n\nObtained at last.\n\n     Obtained at length.\n\nA bill declarative.\n\n     A bill declaratory.\n\nForced into a breach.\n\n     Constrained to make a breach.\n\nHad sat.\n\n     Had sitten.\n\nHowever little inclined.\n\n     How little soever inclined.\n\nBesides being a most atrocious violence.\n\n     Besides its being a most atrocious act of violence.\n\nPrecedent to Strafford's trial.\n\n     Previous to Strafford's trial.\n\nAfraid that.\n\n     Afraid lest.\n\nWas ordinarily lodged in.\n\n     Was commonly lodged in.\n\nWas the person who introduced.\n\n     Was the person that introduced.\n\nDuring all the time when.\n\n     During the time that.\n\nReduced to shifts.\n\n     Reduced to extremities.\n\nThe Star Chamber, who were sitting.\n\n     The Star Chamber, which was sitting.\n\nA story which, as it marks the genius of parties, may be worth reciting.\n\n     A story which, as it discovers the genius of parties, may be\n     worth relating.\n\nContempt entertained towards.\n\n     Contempt entertained for.\n\nCould such an attempt be interpreted treason.\n\n     Could such an attempt be considered as treason.\n\nLay great weight upon.\n\n     Lay great stress upon.\n\nDevoid of temporal sanction.\n\n     Destitute of temporal sanction.\n\nParliament designed to levy war.\n\n     Parliament intended to levy war.\n\nIt would ascertain the devoted obedience.\n\n     It would ensure the devoted obedience.\n\nHis dignity was exempted from pride.\n\n     His dignity was free from pride.\n\nWhen the exception really occurs, even though it be not precedently\nexpected.\n\n     When the exception really occurs, even though it be not\n     previously expected.\n\nTo those effects which were operated.\n\n     To those effects which were wrought.\n\n[81:1] A tragedy by John Home.\n\n[83:1] The militia of England had, owing to the unpopularity of the\nforeign mercenaries in British pay, been strengthened and enlarged. A\nproposal was entertained, to extend the system to Scotland: but it was\nnot executed till many years afterwards. There were several pamphlets on\nthe subject. Probably the one here referred to is the well known\n\"History of the Proceedings in the case of Margaret, commonly called\nPeg, only lawful Sister of John Bull, Esq.;\" attributed to Adam\nFerguson, which will have to be mentioned farther on.\n\n[84:1] Hume seems to have himself commenced a translation of Plutarch.\nSee above, vol. i. p. 417.\n\n[85:1] Stewart's Life of Robertson.\n\n[87:1] It will be observed, that Hume's strongest argument from internal\ncriticism is, that the state of society and feeling exhibited in these\npoems was that of the middle ages, and involved the spirit of chivalry\npeculiar to that period.\n\n[89:1] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 155. The original is in the MSS.\nR.S.E. Mr. Mackenzie says, \"I could not read this letter without being\nconfirmed in an observation which I have often ventured to make, on the\nuncertainty of the evidence arising from _letters_, when the writers are\ndead, and the motives of their correspondence cannot be known.\"\n\n[90:1] It is not Cowley but Butler who makes this sarcasm.\n\n     For Hebrew roots although they're found\n     To flourish most in barren ground.\n\n[90:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[92:1] Private Correspondence of David Hume with several distinguished\npersons, between the years 1761 and 1776. London, 1820, 4to.\n\n[93:1] Private Correspondence, p. 269.\n\n[94:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[97:1] Depuis long-tems, Monsieur, je suis combattue par des sentimens\ncontraires. L'admiration que me cause votre sublime ouvrage, et l'estime\nqu'il m'inspire pour votre personne, vos talents, et votre vertu, m'ont\nfait na\u00eetre souvent le d\u00e9sir de vous \u00e9crire, pour vous exprimer les\nsentimens dont je suis profond\u00e9ment p\u00e9n\u00e9tr\u00e9e. D'un autre c\u00f4t\u00e9,\nconsid\u00e9rant que je vous suis inconnue, le peu de prix que doit avoir mon\nsuffrage, la r\u00e9serve et l'obscurit\u00e9 m\u00eame qui convient \u00e0 mon sexe: j'ai\ncraint d'\u00eatre accus\u00e9e de pr\u00e9somption, et de me faire conno\u00eetre \u00e0 mon\nd\u00e9savantage, d'un homme de qui je regarderai toujours la bonne opinion\ncomme le bien le plus flatteur et le plus pr\u00e9cieux. N\u00e9anmoins, puisque\nles r\u00e9flexions que j'ai faites \u00e0 cet \u00e9gard ne paroissent avoir beaucoup\nde force, un penchant irr\u00e9sistible les rend infructueuses, et je vais\najouter mon exemple \u00e0 mille autres, pour justifier la v\u00e9rit\u00e9 de cette\nremarque que j'ai lue dans votre histoire de la Maison de\nStuard,--\"Men's views of things are the result of their understanding\nalone; their conduct is regulated by their understanding, their temper,\nand their passions,\"--puisque quand ma raison me dit que je devrais me\ntenir dans le silence, l'enthousiasme, o\u00f9 je suis, m'emp\u00eache de le\npouvoir garder.\n\nQuoique femme, et dans un \u00e2ge qui n'est pas encore avanc\u00e9, et malgr\u00e9 la\ndissipation de la vie qu'on tient dans ce pays, ayant toujours aim\u00e9 la\nlecture, il est peu de bons livres, en quelque langue et en quelque\ngenre que ce soit, que je n'ai lus, ou dans l'original, ou dans les\ntraductions; et je puis vous assurer, monsieur, avec une sinc\u00e9rit\u00e9 qui\nne doit pas vous \u00eatre suspecte, que je n'ai trouv\u00e9 aucun qui r\u00e9unit \u00e0\nmon jugement, autant de perfections que le v\u00f4tre. Je ne sais point de\ntermes qui puissent vous rendre ce que j'aprouve en lisant cet ouvrage.\nJe me suis attendrie, transport\u00e9e, et l'\u00e9motion qu'il me cause est en\nquelque fa\u00e7on p\u00e9nible par sa continuit\u00e9. Il \u00e9l\u00e8ve l'\u00e2me, il remplit le\nc\u0153ur de sentimens d'humanit\u00e9 et bienfaisance. Il \u00e9claire l'esprit, et\nen lui montrant la v\u00e9ritable f\u00e9licit\u00e9 intimement li\u00e9e \u00e0 la vertu, il lui\nd\u00e9couvre par le m\u00eame rayon le seul et unique but de tout \u00eatre\nraisonnable. Au milieu des calamit\u00e9s qui environnent de toutes parts le\nRoi Charles Premier, l'on voit la paix et la s\u00e9r\u00e9nit\u00e9 briller avec \u00e9clat\net l'accompagner sur l'\u00e9chafaud; tandis que le trouble et les remords,\ncort\u00e9ge ins\u00e9parable du crime, suivent les pas de Cromwell et s'asseyent\nsur le tr\u00f4ne avec lui. Votre livre apprend encore combien l'abus est\nvoisin des meilleures choses, et les r\u00e9flexions qu'il fait faire \u00e0 ce\nsujet, doit [doivent] augmenter la vigilance et la d\u00e9fiance de soi-m\u00eame.\nIl anime d'une noble \u00e9mulation, il inspire l'amour de la libert\u00e9, et\ninstruit en m\u00eame tems \u00e0 la soumettre au gouvernement sous lequel on est\noblig\u00e9 de vivre. En un mot c'est un _terra fecunda_ de morale et\nd'instructions pr\u00e9sent\u00e9es avec des couleurs si vives qu'on croit les\nvoir pour la premi\u00e8re fois.\n\nLa clart\u00e9, la majest\u00e9, la simplicit\u00e9 touchante de votre style, me ravit.\nLes beaut\u00e9s sont si frappantes, que malgr\u00e9 mon ignorance dans la langue\nAngloise, elles n'ont pu m'\u00e9chapper. Vous \u00eates, Monsieur, un peintre\nadmirable. Vos tableaux ont une gr\u00e2ce, un naturel, une \u00e9nergie, qui\nsurpasse ce que l'imagination m\u00eame peut attendre.\n\nMais quelles expressions employerai-je pour vous faire connoitre l'effet\nque produit sur moi votre divine impartialit\u00e9? J'avois besoin en cette\noccasion de votre propre \u00e9loquence, pour bien rendre ma pens\u00e9e. En\nv\u00e9rit\u00e9 je crois avoir devant les yeux l'ouvrage de quelque substance\nc\u00e9leste, d\u00e9gag\u00e9 des passions, qui pour l'utilit\u00e9 a daign\u00e9 \u00e9crire les\n\u00e9v\u00e8nemens de ces derniers tems.\n\nJe n'ose ajouter, que dans tout ce qui sort de votre plume vous vous\nmontrez un philosophe parfait, un homme d'\u00e9tat, un historien plein de\ng\u00e9nie, un politique \u00e9clair\u00e9, un vrai patriote, toutes ces sublimes\nqualit\u00e9s sont si fort au dessus des connoissances d'une femme, qu'il me\nconvient peu d'en parler; et j'ai d\u00e9j\u00e0 grand besoin de votre indulgence\npour les fautes que j'ai commises centre la discr\u00e9tion et la biens\u00e9ance\npar l'exc\u00e8s de ma v\u00e9n\u00e9ration pour votre m\u00e9rite. Je vous la demande,\nMonsieur, et en m\u00eame tems le plus profond secret. La d\u00e9marche que je\nfais a quelque chose d'extraordinaire. Je craindrois qu'elle ne\nm'attir\u00e2t le bl\u00e2me, et je serois f\u00e2ch\u00e9e que le sentiment qui me l'a\ndict\u00e9e p\u00fbt \u00eatre inconnu. J'ai l'honneur d'\u00eatre, Monsieur, votre tr\u00e8s\nhumble et tr\u00e8s ob\u00e9issante servante,\n\nHYPPOLYTE DE SAUJON, COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.\n\nOn me dit, Monsieur, que vous avez en vue de venir en France, \u00e0 Paris.\nJe souhaite bien vivement que vous ex\u00e9cutiez cette r\u00e9solution, et\npouvoir contribuer \u00e0 vous en rendre le s\u00e9jour agr\u00e9able.\n\nCe 15 Mars, 1761. A Paris.[97:A]\n\n     [97:A] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[101:1] Private Correspondence, &c. 1-4.\n\n[101:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[101:3] Private Correspondence, 5.\n\n[105:1] It will be observed that this is an attempt to spell those\nexpressions according to the pronunciation.\n\n[107:1]\n\n_A Paris, 16 Juin, 1762._\n\nJean Jacques Rousseau, citoyen de Gen\u00e8ve, et auteur de plusieurs \u00e9crits\nqui vous sont vraisemblablement connus, vient de composer un Trait\u00e9 sur\nl'Education, en quatre volumes, o\u00f9 il expose plusieurs principes\ncontraires aux n\u00f4tres, tant sur la politique, que sur la religion. Comme\nnous ne jouissons pas ici de la libert\u00e9 de la presse, le Parlement par\nun arr\u00eat, juste, s'il est comme je n'en doute pas conforme aux lois du\nroyaume, mais n\u00e9anmoins rigoureux, l'a d\u00e9cr\u00e9t\u00e9 de prise de corps, et\nl'on pr\u00e9tend que s'il n'avoit pas pris la fuite, il auroit \u00e9t\u00e9 condamn\u00e9\n\u00e0 la mort. J'ai de la peine \u00e0 croire qu'on e\u00fbt pu aller si loin sur la\nqualit\u00e9 d'\u00e9tranger. Mais quoi qu'il en soit, il eut \u00e9t\u00e9 imprudent de\nlui, de rester en France dans de pareilles circonstances. Il est donc\nparti, incertain quel asile il choisiroit. Je lui ai conseill\u00e9 de se\nretirer en Angleterre, lui promettant des lettres de recommendation pour\nvous, Monsieur, et pour d'autres personnes de mes amis. Je m'acquitte de\nma promesse, et je ne puis pas \u00e0 mon avis lui choisir dans tout\nl'Europe, un protecteur plus respectable par ses liaisons, et plus\nrecommendable par son humanit\u00e9. M. Rousseau passe chez la plupart des\ngens en ce pays pour un homme singulier. A prendre cette \u00e9pith\u00e8te selon\nla vraie signification, elle lui est justement donn\u00e9e, car il diff\u00e8re, a\nbeaucoup d'\u00e9gards, de la fa\u00e7on d'agir et de penser des hommes du jour.\nIl a le c\u0153ur droit, l'\u00e2me noble et d\u00e9sint\u00e9ress\u00e9e. Il craint toute\nesp\u00e8ce de d\u00e9pendance, et par cette raison il a mieux aim\u00e9, \u00e9tant en\nFrance, gagner sa vie en copiant de la musique, que de recevoir les\nbienfaits de ses meilleurs amis, qui s'empressoient de r\u00e9parer sa\nmauvaise fortune. Cette d\u00e9licatesse peut paro\u00eetre excessive, mais elle\nn'a rien de criminelle, et m\u00eame elle suppose des sentimens \u00e9lev\u00e9s. Il\nfuit le commerce du monde, il ne se pla\u00eet que dans la solitude, ce go\u00fbt\npour la retraite lui a fait des ennemis. L'amour propre de ceux qui\nl'ont recherch\u00e9 s'est trouv\u00e9 bless\u00e9 de ses refus. Mais malgr\u00e9 sa\nmisanthropie apparente, je ne crois pas qu'il y ait nulle part, un homme\nplus doux, plus humain, plus comp\u00e2tissant aux peines des autres, et plus\npatient dans les siennes, en un mot, sa vertu paro\u00eet si pure, si\ncontente, si uniforme, que, jusqu'\u00e0, pr\u00e9sent, ceux qui le ha\u00efssent,\nn'ont pas trouv\u00e9 que dans leur propre coeur des raisons pour le\nsoup\u00e7onner. Pour moi, avec des apparences aussi avantageuses, j'aimerois\nmieux en \u00eatre tromp\u00e9 que de me d\u00e9fier de sa sinc\u00e9rit\u00e9.\n\nD'apr\u00e8s l'opinion que j'en ai monsieur, je l'ai jug\u00e9 digne d'\u00eatre connu\nde vous, et en lui procurant cet honneur, je crois lui donner la preuve\nla plus marqu\u00e9e du cas que je fais de lui.[107:A]\n\n     [107:A] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[109:1] Private Correspondence, &c. pp. 8, 9.\n\n[110:1] This letter is printed in the Private Correspondence, p. 58.\nThere are two duplicate originals of it among the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[113:1] Private Correspondence, &c. p. 54.\n\n[115:1] Private Correspondence, p. 54.\n\n[115:2] Vol. i. p. 283.\n\n[116:1] The following anecdote of Hume, by Lord Charlemont, seems\nappropriate to this passage. \"He never failed, in the midst of any\ncontroversy, to give its due praise to every thing tolerable that was\neither said or written against him. One day that he visited me in\nLondon, he came into my room laughing and apparently well pleased. 'What\nhas put you into this good humour, Hume?' said I. 'Why man,' replied he,\n'I have just now had the best thing said to me I ever heard. I was\ncomplaining in a company where I spent the morning, that I was very ill\ntreated by the world, and that the censures put upon me were hard and\nunreasonable. That I had written many volumes, throughout the whole of\nwhich there were but a few pages that contained any reprehensible\nmatter, and yet that for those few pages, I was abused and torn to\npieces.' 'You put me in mind,' said an honest fellow in the company,\nwhose name I did not know, 'of an acquaintance of mine, a notary public,\nwho having been condemned to be hanged for forgery, lamented the\nhardship of his case; that after having written many thousand\ninoffensive sheets, he should be hanged for one line.'\" _Hardy's Memoirs\nof Charlemont_, p. 121.\n\n[119:1] _European Magazine_, 1785, p. 250.\n\n[119:2] Vol. i. p. 57.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n1762-1763. \u00c6t. 51-52.\n\n     The Publication of the History anterior to the Accession of\n     the Tudors--Completion of the History--Inquiry how far it is a\n     complete History--Hume's Intention to write an Ecclesiastical\n     History--Opinions of Townsend and others on his History--\n     Appreciation of the Fine Arts--Hume's House in James's Court--\n     Its subsequent occupation by Boswell and Johnson--Conduct\n     of David Mallet--Hume's Projects--The Douglas Cause--\n     Correspondence with Reid.\n\n\nIn 1762 there was published, in two quarto volumes, the \"History of\nEngland, from the Invasion of Julius C\u00e6sar, to the Accession of Henry\nVII.\" The farther back we proceed from those periods of which a full\nnarrative of historical events is preserved by contemporary chroniclers,\ninto those more obscure ages when even the lines of kings are hardly\npreserved, and fragments of laws, or of long obsolete literature, and\nantiquarian relics, are the historian's only guide, the less\nsatisfactory is Hume's history, when compared with other historical\nworks. The earliest part is thus the least valuable. He had here,\nhowever, to encounter difficulties which we are only at this day able to\nestimate, in the absence of those materials which the industry of\nantiquaries has lately brought to light, to so great an extent, as\nalmost necessarily to supersede Hume's \"History of England\" during the\nearly ages, as a source of historical knowledge.[121:1]\n\nBut both in this and the other departments of his work, we are bound to\nestimate Hume, as we do great workmen in all departments of mental\nlabour, not by the state of his science at the present day, but by that\nin which he found it. To comprehend how far it may be practicable for\nany one mind to create a full and satisfactory history of the island of\nGreat Britain, without having the advantage of the previous labours of\nmany minds, occupied in elucidating the details of the various branches\nof knowledge with which he has to deal, let us cast a casual glance at\nthe prominent topics which must be fully discussed in such a History, if\nit be a satisfactory work.\n\nThe historian should be master of every scrap of information contained\nin Greek or Roman authors, about the connexion of the people of the\nancient world with our island. In the works of C\u00e6sar and Tacitus this\nwill be a simple matter; but scattered about among the productions of\nthe Panegyrists, and in other such obscure quarters, there are many\nimportant incidental notices, which will not be so easily found or so\nsatisfactorily interpreted. To this the investigator must add more\nrecondite stores of knowledge, collected from etymological\ninvestigations among the roots of languages--Celtic and Teutonic. He\nmust study Strabo, Ptolemy, and the other geographers; and interpreting\nthe information collected from them, and the incidents derived from the\nother sources above alluded to, with his etymological inquiries, he must\nendeavour to solve the vexed questions about the migration of\nraces--whether the Cimbri were pure Celts? whether the Welsh are the\ndescendants of that race? whether the Caledonii, with whom Agricola\nfought, were Celts? who and what were those mysterious people, called\nthe Picts?\n\nThere must be some criticism, however unsatisfactory it may be, on the\nworship anterior to the introduction of Christianity, and on the\nvestiges of that and of other early customs supposed to be supplied by\nthe remnants of ancient masonry and engineering, with which our island\nabounds. The historian must next be able to show what is truly known,\nand what is not, regarding the inroads of the Teutonic tribes, and must\nbe able to fathom the learning of the German antiquaries on this\ndepartment of history. Here the early literature of Ireland, of which so\nmuch has lately been printed by O'Conor and others, and the relics of\nScandinavian metrical histories, will widen the inquiry, while they\nrender it more satisfactory.\n\nHaving got these settlers from the Teutonic tribes, the Saxons as they\nare generally called, established in the island, the peculiar internal\npolicy, national character, and literature of Britain, begin to assume\na shape under the eye of the historian, and to gather round them their\ndistinctive attributes as he proceeds. He will soon have to deal with\nthe birth of laws and customs, which, modelled to the progress of an\nincreasing population and civilisation, are still in daily practice.\n\nFrom this epoch downwards, he has to watch the changes of the national\nliterature. Observing it in its purely Anglo-Saxon period, he must\nestimate the extent to which it was altered by the adoption of\nNorman-French as a court language, while Anglo-Saxon still continued to\nbe the tongue of the common people; and mark the continued existence of\nthis fundamental Teutonic speech, and its action upon the language of\nthe court, until the former became the established literary language of\nthe day, the latter merely imparting to it one of its characteristic\nfeatures. Thus tracing these elements from their respective sources down\nto the days of Chaucer, the influence of the revival of classical\nlearning upon modern language and thought must find a place, and English\nliterature must be described in its progress towards and arrival at full\nmanhood. Along with this inquiry, there should be an ancillary\ninvestigation into the causes why the language and literature of the\nScottish lowlands have so long differed from those of England, though\nboth springing from the same root.\n\nReturning to the Anglo-Saxon period, another and more laborious inquiry\nopens in the department of the laws and public institutions. There must\nbe a search after those which were peculiar to the Anglo-Saxons; and in\ndealing with authorities posterior to the conquest, the historian must\ncarefully sift them, that he may ascertain the extent to which any law\nor custom was undoubtedly Anglo-Saxon. After having ascertained how\nmuch of the spirit of feudal institutions had tinged the purely Saxon\nusages, he must next follow the progress of feudalism abroad, and fully\nexplain the effect produced on Britain by its full grown importation at\nthe era of the Conquest. In conjunction with this large inquiry, the\njurisprudence of Rome must be kept in view; first, as some relics of it\nin municipal institutions, and otherwise, may have been associated with\nthe very earliest forms of internal organization in modern Europe; and\nsecondly, after its letter had been buried for centuries, as it was\nresuscitated by the civilians and canonists, and brought in array\nagainst the common law of England, and amalgamated with the feudal\nsystem in Scotland. From these elements the history of Parliament and of\nmunicipal bodies, the prerogatives of the crown, and the rights and\nprivileges of the subject, together with the practical administration of\nthe law, ought all to be developed in their origin and growth. The state\nof knowledge and of opinion among the people at large, on political\nmatters, and particularly on the manner in which they are governed,\nshould form a part of this constitutional inquiry.\n\nThe history of religion should occupy a conspicuous place in the\nhistorian's studies. In the folios of the Bollandists, no inconsiderable\nportion of the scanty records of the civil history of the period are to\nbe found. A full and patient study of the Roman Catholic creed and\npolity in their rise and development, is necessary for the effectual\nemployment of the knowledge thus acquired; and it is needless to say how\nmany other creeds and systems must be studied by the historian of\nBritain. By observing its mere results on the outward history of a\npeople, the inquirer will never know the real influence of any system of\nreligious tenets. A brief survey shows us the outward demonstrations.\nBut to be acquainted with the character of the internal impulses of any\nreligious creed, to see how the fire glows and radiates within the bosom\nof the votary, we must study the vital elements of the creed itself with\nindustry and with zeal.\n\nThe language and literature of the country have already been alluded to.\nThe state of the arts at different times must be carefully watched and\nexplained. To accomplish this task, the historian should possess a wide\nknowledge of the principles and practice of art: not that conventional\nknowledge which teaches him how to distinguish from all that are below\nthem those efforts which are entitled to the approbation of the\nfastidious, but the catholic spirit, which enables the mind fully to\nestimate progress before perfection is reached.\n\nAll the departments of the historian's knowledge are more or less\nblended with each other. From the sixth century downwards, for several\nages, the coinage of the realm only marks the state of the arts or\nserves to adjust disputed chronologies: gradually, however, the\nhistorian feels it becoming involved with more complex elements\nconnected with the state of society, and at last the great question of\nthe currency and the monetary system of the country has to be grappled\nwith. Here the whole field of political economy is opened up. It is\nneedless to say, that the historian, especially he who treats of a\npeople in any degree civilized, must be thoroughly imbued with political\neconomy.\n\nThe state of manufactures and of the sciences should not be neglected. A\nhistory of Britain during the nineteenth century, containing no account\nof the triumphs of the steam engine, or of the progress of railway\nengineering, would give a very imperfect view of the living progress of\nthe nation. The history of the early period would be more satisfactory,\nif it informed us when the pump and the potter's wheel were first used\nin Britain. Closely akin to this subject is the progress of agriculture,\nwhich, however, is a matter simpler and more easy of attainment than\nmany of the historian's other objects of inquiry.\n\nIn truth, it may be safely said, that every circumstance that can be\ndiscovered concerning the particular country, and every thing, whether\nanimate or inanimate that is on its surface, comes within the compass of\nits history, using that word in the sense of merely civil\nhistory,--unless in so far as it belongs to what is natural history. And\nyet even from this science civil history has many lights to receive.\nHuman physiology is intimately connected with the elucidations of the\nhistorian; and it would appear that, in regard to the influence of\npolitical institutions on the physical as well as the moral state of\nraces of men, we are still only on the threshold of knowledge. Here the\nphysiologist, and the recorder of political events, who heretofore have\ntravelled on different roads, may some day or other find a common object\nof exertion, and may tell us, by their united labours, why the race that\ninhabited ancient Egypt, from being the most inventive, should have been\namong the most supine of people; why the Chinese should have passed\nthrough an epoch of active discovery, and should have thenceforth,\nunlike the rest of the world, neither forgotten nor improved the fruits\nof their original enterprise; why the Celts, once the nurses of European\nlearning, should, at a later time, have appeared as if doomed to retire\nbefore the ardent genius of the Teutonic race; and why this race, after\nbeing long inferior to other branches of the Caucasian family, should\nappear, with British enterprise and German thought, likely to absorb\nthe faculties of the rest of mankind.\n\nThe historian must not wholly neglect other natural productions. The\ninferior animals and the vegetable kingdom are intimately connected with\nthe fate of the human beings who are the immediate object of his\nlabours. With geology he may appear to have comparatively little\nconcern; yet the marble of Greece, and the coal and iron of Britain,\nhave had no little influence on the destinies of these nations.\n\nHume did so much towards the completion of that circle of knowledge with\nwhich the historian has to deal, that he was the first to add to a mere\nnarrative of events, an inquiry into the progress of the people, and of\ntheir arts, literature, manners, and general social condition. This\nattempt was so original, that, as it embodied in some measure the theory\ndeveloped in Voltaire's \"Essai sur les Moeurs,\" first published in 1756,\nwhen the first volume of the \"History of the Stuarts\" had been two years\nbefore the public, it was supposed that Hume might have borrowed the\nidea from some fragments of that work which had been surreptitiously\nprinted with the title \"Abr\u00e9g\u00e9 de l'Histoire Universelle.\" There seems\nto be no room, however, for such a supposition. Hume's own \"Political\nDiscourses\" are as close an approach to this method of inquiry as the\nwork of Voltaire; and if we look for such productions of other writers\nas may have led him into this train of thought, it would be more just to\nname Bacon and Montesquieu.[129:1] The works of such authors as Guizot\nand Hallam may teach us that much had to be added to Hume's system of\nhistorical composition, to render it perfect; but they do so in the same\nmanner as the last steam engine shows us how many improvements have been\nmade on the inventions of Watt.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe now resume the correspondence with Millar. The letter immediately\nfollowing, puts beyond a doubt, what had only been partially believed,\nthat Hume had, at one time, expressed an intention of writing an\necclesiastical history. Of the manner in which he would have executed\nsuch a task, opinions will widely vary.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 15th March, 1762._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am very glad that you are in so good a way, and that you\nthink so soon of making a new edition. I am running over both the\nancient history and the Tudors, and shall send you them up by the wagon\nas soon as they are corrected. Please tell Mr. Strahan, to keep\ncarefully this copy I send up, as well as that which I left of the\nStuarts; for if you intend to print an octavo edition next summer, it\nwill be better to do it from these copies which are corrected, than from\nthe new edition, where there will necessarily be some errors of the\npress.\n\n\"I give you full authority to contradict the report, that I am writing\nor intend to write an ecclesiastical history; I have no such intention;\nand I believe never shall. I am beginning to love peace very much, and\nresolve to be more cautious than formerly in creating myself enemies.\nBut in contradicting this report, you will be so good as not to impeach\nMr. Mallet's veracity; for 'tis certain I said to Lord Chesterfield\n(from whom Mr. Mallet first had it) that I had entertained such a\nthought; but my saying so proceeded less from any serious purpose, than\nfrom a view of trying how far such an idea would be relished by his\nlordship.\n\n\"I have not laid aside thoughts of continuing my History to the period\nafter the Revolution. It is not amiss to be idle a little time; but it\nis probable I shall tire of that kind of life: and if I then find that\nthe public desires to see more of me, and that the great will not shut\nup their papers from me, I shall set to work in earnest.\n\n\"I never thought that Lord Kames' Elements would be a popular book; but\nI hoped, that, as you engage for no copy money, it would certainly\ndefray the charge of paper and print; and on that footing alone I\nrecommended it to you. I find the author's expectations raised up to a\nvast pitch, and indeed there are some parts of the work ingenious and\ncurious; but it is too abtruse and crabbed ever to take with the public.\nAs to the advice you desire me to give him, it is certainly very\nsalutary; but I fancy neither I nor any other of his friends will ever\nventure to mention it. The admonitions, which come from you, are\ncommonly the most effectual; and if this book do not sell, I think it\nwere not amiss, that you tell him the plain truth without disguise or\ncircumlocution. I find the booksellers here have sold off all their\nshare of my Essays, and are desirous of another edition, which, however,\nI told them, I believed you was not ready for. I desire to be informed\ntwo or three months before you put it to the press: because I intend to\nmake some considerable alterations on some parts of them.\n\n\"I hope Mrs. Millar intends to pay us a visit next summer, and that you\nwill be of the party. Please make my most sincere respects to her. I am,\ndear Sir,\" &c.[132:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_8th April, 1762._\n\n\"I shall answer your story of Charles Townsend very fully, by another\nstory of the same gentleman. Three years ago, when I was in London, I\nwas told by a friend, that Mr. Townsend said, that my History of the\nStuarts (the only one then published,) was full of gross blunders in the\nfacts: he had consulted all the authentic documents, particularly the\njournals of the House of Commons, and found it so. When I made light of\nthis information, as knowing somewhat of Mr. Townsend's hasty manner of\nspeaking, my friend said, that I ought not so much to neglect the\nmatter; because Mr. Townsend had told him that Mr. Dyson, clerk to the\nHouse of Commons, a man of knowledge and solidity, had made to him the\nsame observation. I was a little surprised and alarmed at this; and I\nwent to Mr. Elliot, whom I desired to speak to Mr. Dyson, and to tell\nhim that there was nothing in the world I desired so much as to be\ninformed of my errors, and that he would oblige me extremely by pointing\nout those mistakes. Mr. Dyson replied, that he had never in his life\nspoke of the matter to Mr. Townsend; and that though he differed from me\nin my reasonings and views of the constitution, he had observed no\nblunders in facts, except one with regard to the dispensing power:\nwhich, by the bye, was the one also remarked to me by the Speaker, and\nwhich I corrected in the second edition. It was not an error with regard\nto the reign of James Second, but with regard to that of King William,\nwhich I had not sufficiently examined. I assure you there is not a\nquotation that I did not see with mine own eyes, except two or three at\nmost, which I took from Tyrrel or Brady, because I had not the books\nreferred to. That there is no mistake in such a number of references,\nwould be rash or even absurd to affirm: that the printer also has not\nsometimes made mistakes in the name of the author or in the number of\nthe page quoted, is what I dare not aver: for I only compared the sheet\nnow and then with my manuscript, and was contented to be as correct as\npossible in the text. I knew that these mistakes could neither be\nfrequent nor material. But if people, finding a few here and there,\npoint them out, and give them as a specimen of the whole, I know no\nremedy for this malice, but to allow them to go on. Men of candour will\njudge otherwise without scrutiny: and men of diligence and industry will\nfind that the case is otherwise, upon scrutiny.[133:1]\n\n\"I have heard of Charles Townsend's extolling and decrying me\nalternately, according as the humour bites; and all the world knows this\nto be his character. He is perhaps angry with me at present, because I\ndid not wait of him when I was in London. It is strange, that great men\nin England should slight and neglect men of letters when they pay court\nto them, and rail at them when they do not. I have a regard to Mr.\nTownsend as a man of parts, I believe of very great parts; but I attach\nmyself to no great man, and visit none of them but such as happen to be\nmy friends, and particular acquaintance. I wish they would consider me\nas equally independent with themselves, or more so. However, there is no\nnecessity of enraging Mr. Townsend farther by the story I told you in\nthe first paragraph; and therefore I would not have you communicate it\nto any body, except a very particular friend whom you can trust. You may\nread the second paragraph to every body.\"[134:1]\n\n\nIn the following letter to Millar, we find him professing his ignorance\nof the practical application of the fine arts in engraving. Although he\nhas written on the philosophy of taste, we find no traces in his\nwritings of what the Germans have denominated the aesthetic; no sense of\nan internal emotion arising from the contemplation of works of art. In\nhis travels, he had an opportunity of seeing many fine pictures, but he\nnever mentions one; and it does not appear, from any incident in his\nlife, or allusion in his letters, which I can remember, that he had ever\nreally admired a picture or a statue.[134:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 17th May, 1762._\n\n\"I like much better your publishing in volumes than in numbers. Though\nthis last method has been often practised, it has somewhat of a quackish\nair, which you have always avoided, as well as myself. I know not what\nto do for frontispieces; I have no manner of skill myself in designing,\nand am not able to point out the most proper subjects, nor the method of\nexecuting them. On the whole, I think it an expense which may be spared;\nbut if you continue in the resolution of having some such ornament, I\ncould write a letter to Allan Ramsay, who, I hope, would take the pains\nof directing the engraver. As to my head, I think that also a\nsuperfluous expense; and as there is no picture of me in London, I know\nnot how it can be executed: with submission to you, would it not be\nbetter to throw these charges on the paper and print? I do not imagine,\nbecause these ornaments have helped off the sale of Smollett's History,\nthat mine would be the better for them.[135:1] These arts are seldom\npractised twice with the same success.\n\n\"I do not lose view of my design to continue my History, at least for\ntwo reigns more; but I question whether party prejudices with regard to\nme, are as yet sufficiently subsided, to enable me to carry on that\nwork, without meeting with repulses and disgusts from those who have the\nmaterials in their power, which must serve for the foundation of my\nnarrative: a little farther time will, I hope, operate that\neffect.\"[135:2]\n\n\nHe concludes this letter by saying, \"I remove my house this week to\nJames's Court.\"\n\nEntering a low gateway which pierces the line of lofty houses along the\nLawnmarket, one finds oneself in a square court, surrounded by houses,\nwhich have now evidently fallen to the lot of humbler inhabitants than\nthose for whom they were erected. These spaces, walled off by the\nintervening houses from the main street, were in the Scottish\nmetropolis, like the similar edifices of the French nobility, frequently\ndesigned with the view of protecting those who dwelt within the gate\nfrom the unwelcome intrusion of either legal or illegal force. But it is\nprobable that James's Court scarcely dates back to times so lawless, and\nthat it was built early in the eighteenth century. The plan of a closed\ncourt was, perhaps, adopted as a means of enabling a small community to\nhave the civic functions of lighting and cleaning performed more\naccurately than they were then administered to the inhabitants at large.\n\nEntering one of the doors opposite the main entrance, the stranger is\nsometimes led by a friend, wishing to afford him an agreeable surprise,\ndown flight after flight of the steps of a stone staircase, and when he\nimagines he is descending so far into the bowels of the earth, he\nemerges on the edge of a cheerful crowded thoroughfare, connecting\ntogether the Old and New Town; the latter of which lies spread before\nhim, a contrast to the gloom from which he has emerged. When he looks up\nto the building containing the upright street through which he has\ndescended, he sees that vast pile of tall houses standing at the head of\nthe Mound, which creates astonishment in every visiter of Edinburgh.\nThis vast fabric is built on the declivity of a hill, and thus one\nentering on the level of the Lawnmarket, is at the height of several\nstories from the ground on the side next the New Town. In Hume's day, a\nlake lay not many yards from the base of the building; and the whole\nspace now occupied by the streets and squares of the New Town, was open\nground, covered with woodland in those places where it did not consist\nof agricultural ground or barren heath. A full view of the surrounding\ncountry must have been possessed by every floor in this mass of\nbuildings. I have ascertained that by ascending the western of the two\nstairs facing the entry of James's Court, to the height of three\nstories, we arrive at the door of David Hume's house, which, of the two\ndoors on that landing-place, is the one towards the left.[137:1]\n\nOf the first impression made on a stranger, at that period, when\nentering such a house, a vivid description is given by Sir Walter Scott\nin \"Guy Mannering;\" and in Counsellor Pleydell's library, with its\ncollection of books and the prospect from the window, we have probably\nan accurate picture of the room in which Hume spent his studious hours\nwhen he was in his own house in Edinburgh.\n\nWhen Boswell describes the veritable locality of the house in which he\ndid actually receive the illustrious Dr. Johnson, he tells us at the\nsame time that it was in James's Court. Hume had then left his house,\nand it appears that James Boswell became his tenant.[137:2] One cannot\ntherefore resist the conclusion, that the house thus consecrated, was\nthe very one which had been occupied by Hume. Would Boswell communicate\nsuch a fact, or tell what manner of man was the landlord of the\nhabitation into which he had, under the guise of hospitality, entrapped\nthe arch-intolerant?[138:1] Who shall appreciate the mental conflict\nwhich Boswell may have experienced on this occasion! On the one side he\nwould have to consider, whether it would not be more candid to let the\nappalling truth be known. But would Johnson have been able to \"sleep o'\nnights\" in such a house? The dilemma might not have been so easily\nsolved as the dinner with Wilkes.\n\nHume's house was, during his absence in France, occupied by Dr. Blair;\nso that the old flat, three stories up from the entrance in James's\nCourt, had in its day sheltered inmates of no common eminence.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 22d Nov. 1762._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--As yours of the 16th of last month did not require any\nimmediate reply, I have used the freedom to delay answering it. I am\nglad to find your two new editions so well advanced: I hope they will be\nsuccessful. Some people tell me, that, as the two volumes last published\ndo not shock any party prejudices, they have been better received than\nthe former, and procure a good reception for the whole. If I should see\nthem make any farther progress, it would be the best encouragement for\nme to proceed in writing the more recent history. I am far from losing\nsight of that project; but it is better not to begin it, till matters\nare more ripe for the execution, and till I find, that every one would\nfrankly concur in opening their cabinets, and allowing me the use of all\npapers which may be necessary for my purpose. I had a letter from Mr.\nMallet lately, by which I find, that he will no longer be an obstacle in\nmy way; for he tells me that his History of the Duke of Marlborough is\nready for the press; which is more than I or most people expected.\n\n\"Lord Marischal wrote me lately, that the celebrated Rousseau had taken\nshelter with him at Neufch\u00e2tel; but that he had thoughts of coming to\nEngland, and desired to know of me, if he could make an edition of his\nworks by which he could gain a little money for his subsistence, as he\nwas not interested. He wished also, that I could recommend him to a\nbookseller. You have told me, that you do not care to deal in French\nbooks; but if he should publish any new work, might he not have a\ntranslation of it ready to be published at the same time with the\noriginal? And would not you be willing to deal with him in that shape? I\nshould think him very fortunate, if he were in your hands. I beg my\ncompliments to Mrs. Millar, who, I hope, is at Bath, more for her\namusement than her health. I am, dear sir, yours sincerely.\n\n\"P.S.--As your edition on royal paper is not numerous, I shall only\ndesire three copies of it to be sent me, and shall reserve the other\nthree for the octavo edition. Be so good therefore as to embark three\ncopies in any parcel you send to Edinburgh. The peace will now make the\nintercourse of trade more open between us. The mention of peace reminds\nme to thank you for your assistance in making out my subscription last\nyear, which is likely to turn out so much to my advantage. The stocks\nare now very high; but I suppose will not come to their full height this\ntwelvemonth, and till then I fancy you will not think it prudent in me\nto sell out.\"[140:1]\n\n\nThat Mallet had his History of the Duke of Marlborough ready for press,\nwas, as Hume gently says, more than he or most people expected. However,\nMallet seems to have convinced him that it really was the case; and his\nsuccess in carrying conviction to the prince of sceptics, is a brilliant\ninstance of that mingled cunning and impudence by which he had made\nhimself a great man. The literary history of the life of Marlborough is\nwell known. The duchess had left \u00a31000 to Glover and Mallet, as a fee\nfor a life to be written by them jointly. Glover gave up his share of\nthe labour and its reward, and Mallet obtained the \u00a31000. The service he\ngave in return, consisted entirely in the labour of convincing the\nworld, by hints and skilfully mysterious announcements, that he had made\nconsiderable progress in the work, though he died without having\ncommenced it; and if this systematic deception had been the service for\nwhich he was paid, it would have been admitted that he had done his\nduty.[141:1] The following letter is a memorable instance of the manner\nin which Mallet conducted his operations; and it shows at the same time\nhis infinitely lofty notion of his own position. He had managed to be a\ngreat author among the aristocracy, and to be a great aristocrat among\nauthors; and the air of calm superiority which he adopts towards Hume\nis not the least remarkable feature in the production.\n\n\nDAVID MALLET _to_ HUME.[142:1]\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I have done at last, what nothing but the greatest\n     regard for the writer, and the truest friendship for the man,\n     could have made me submit to; I have gone over both your\n     volumes again, with the eye and attention of a mere\n     grammarian. The task of looking after verbal mistakes, or\n     errors against the idiom of a tongue, though not unnecessary,\n     is trivial, and disgusting in the greatest decree; but your\n     work, and you, deserved it of me: and I could not have\n     forgiven myself had I not treated yours as I hope and expect\n     you will do mine.\n\n     I have not been idle; though I give no account of my progress\n     to one in a hundred I converse with; as it contains several\n     particulars of the reigns of the two brothers, Charles and\n     James, the most interesting though the least known parts of\n     King William's, and embraces the whole of Queen Anne's reign,\n     together with some anecdotes relative to her successor,--it\n     will swell into two quarto volumes. I am resolved, too, that\n     the translation, which will be done here by an excellent hand\n     under my own eye, shall appear at the same time the original\n     does. These are some of the causes that occasion the\n     complaints I have been teased with: and there are many others,\n     that would make no figure on paper, though they are\n     unavoidable and consume much irretrievable time. But what is\n     well done is done soon; and, as I have not you in my way, I\n     should not feel the least uneasiness, if all our other\n     complete historians should write the same period twenty times\n     over. My work, both in matter and form, would still be new. If\n     you are upon the undertaking, which you desired might remain a\n     secret, I dare assure you, that besides the merit of accuracy\n     and impartiality, it will have all the charm of novelty; for\n     such a work, on a rational and philosophical plan, is a\n     thing, as Milton has it, unattempted yet in prose or rhime.\n     Adieu. I am, dear sir, most faithfully yours.\n\n                                           D. MALLET.[143:1]\n\nThe following letter is a not less curious revelation of Mallet's\nproceedings.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 21st April, 1763._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I had a letter from Mr. Mallett, in which he tells me, that\nhe has run over carefully the two volumes of my History last published,\nand has wrote all his remarks, as well on the language as matter, on the\nmargin. He said, that he would find an opportunity to send them to me. I\nreplied to him, that I was extremely obliged to him, (as I certainly\nam,) and that if he sent them to you, you would soon find an opportunity\nof conveying them to me. I wish you would speak to him on that subject,\nas you have occasion to meet with him, and would send the books\ncarefully to me by the first parcel you send to Edinburgh. I should\ndesire you also to give him a new copy in place of this which he has\nsacrificed; but if there be only a word here and there, I can efface\nthem, after transcribing them into my own copy, and can afterwards\nrestore the book as good as ever.\n\n\"In the same letter, he complains much of a report, that I was writing\nthe English History since the revolution: which he says he cannot\nbelieve, because it would be a very invidious task to him. I answered\nhim, that by his former letter I imagined his History was just ready for\nthe press; that I had not wrote a line of the History of that period;\nbut if I undertake it, one great inducement would be the hopes of\nseeing his volumes published before me; by which means, I could hope\nfor much light and great materials; that as he was near twenty years\nadvanced before me, it was ridiculous to fear that I could overtake him;\nand that I was glad of the report he mentioned, if it would prove a spur\nto his industry. I find Mr. Mallet would fain be like the dog in the\nmanger, neither eat himself nor allow others to eat. I should have a\nbreach with him, and might expect all ill offices from him, if I pursue\nmy plan; but this would be a frivolous consideration, where his anger\nwould be so ill-founded. As soon as the octavo edition of my History is\nfinished, please send me a copy of it. I should be pleased to run it\nover; and make an errata to it. I am,\" &c.[144:1]\n\n\nThe following letter to Elliot shows the zeal with which Hume carried on\nthat systematic removal from his works of all passages tending to favour\npopular rights, which has been already alluded to.\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 12th March, 1763._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--In this new edition I have corrected several mistakes and\noversights, which had chiefly proceeded from the plaguy prejudices of\nWhiggism, with which I was too much infected when I began this work. I\ncorrected some of these mistakes in a former edition; but being resolved\nto add to this edition the quotations of authorities for the reigns of\nJames I. and Charles I., I was obliged to run over again the most\nconsiderable authors who had treated of these reigns; and I happily\ndiscovered some more mistakes, which I have now corrected. As I began\nthe History with these two reigns, I now find that they, above all the\nrest, have been corrupted with Whig rancour, and that I really deserved\nthe name of a party writer, and boasted without any foundation of my\nimpartiality: but if you now do me the honour to give this part of my\nwork a second perusal, I am persuaded that you will no longer throw on\nme this reproachful epithet, and will acquit me of all propensity to\nWhiggism. If you still continue to upbraid me, I shall be obliged to\nretaliate on you, and cry, _Whig vous m\u00eame_.\n\n\"In page 33, vol. v. you will find a full justification of the\nimpositions laid on by James I. without authority of parliament: in p.\n113, 114, 389, a justification of persecuting the Puritans: in p. 180, a\njustification of Charles I. for levying tonnage and poundage without\nconsent of parliament: in p. 100, I acquit James I. of prevarication,\nwith which I had before rashly charged him. This last mistake indeed was\ninnocent, and I can easily account for it. I had read Buckingham's\nnarrative in Rushworth and Franklyn, the two opposite collectors: I saw\nwhat I thought the same paper in the Parliamentary History; but I did\nnot attend to a line at the bottom, in which it is said, that the paper\nis taken from the records more full, than in the preceding collection:\nwhen I read it lately, I found the article here quoted, so that this\nblunder proceeded not from any spirit of Whiggery.\n\n\"I now justify James II. more explicitly in his exercise of the\ndispensing power, which was intimately interwoven with the constitution\nand monarchy--see vol. vi. p. 393-394, 395-400. In vol. iv. p. 322-323,\nI mention a very remarkable vein of tyranny, or exertion of arbitrary\npower, practised in that period,[146:1] and which came to my knowledge\nsince the first publication of that volume.\n\n\"There are many other improvements and alterations throughout the whole;\nand I am glad that Millar has of himself made you an offer of this\nedition. Without flattering you I must say, that there is nobody whom I\nmore desire to see my writings as correct as I can make them; and I was\nthinking to desire Mr. Millar to make you this offer.\n\n\"But there is no end of correcting. In this new edition, vol. v. p. 205,\nI have inserted a pretty curious story of Sir George Markham, which I\ntook from Lord Lansdowne, whom I esteemed safe authority for a Whig\nstory: but I have since been shown Hobart's Reports, which is infinitely\nmore authentic than Lord Lansdowne; and the story is there told so\nentirely, as to justify the King and the Star-chamber, so that you may\nstill reproach me that the villanous leaven is not entirely purged\noff.[146:2]\n\n\"I am engaged in no work at present; but if I tire of idleness, or more\nproperly speaking, of reading for amusement, I may probably continue my\nHistory. My only discouragement is, that I cannot hope to finish this\nwork in my closet, but must apply to the great for papers and\nintelligence, a thing I mortally abhor.\n\n\"Is it not hard and tyrannical in you, more hard and tyrannical than\nany act of the Stuarts, not to allow me to publish my Dialogues? Pray,\ndo you not think that a proper dedication may atone for what is\nexceptionable in them? I am become much of my friend Corbyn Morrice's\nmind, who says, that he writes all his books for the sake of the\ndedications.\n\n\"I am very glad to hear from Lord Minto, that you intend to pass a great\npart of the ensuing summer in this country. Though you be now become a\ngreat man, I doubt not but I should receive very much satisfaction from\nyour society and conversation; that is, if I be not jostled out by\nsuitors who press in upon me.\n\n\"Meanwhile, I am, dear sir, your affectionate friend and\nservant.\"[147:1]\n\n\nHe writes to Millar, on 10th March, 1763, \"I am in a good measure idle\nat present: but if I tire of this way of life, I shall certainly\ncontinue my History, and have no thoughts of any other work. But in this\nstate of affairs, I suppose your people of rank and quality would throw\nthe door in my face, because I am a Scotsman.\"[147:2]\n\nAnd again at a later date:\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 28th March, 1763._\n\n\"I never lose view of the project of continuing my History. I may\nperhaps very soon gather silently together the books which will enable\nme to sketch out the reigns of King William and Queen Anne, and shall\nfinish them afterwards, together with that of George I., in London. But\nto tell you the truth, I have an aversion to appear in that capital\ntill I see that more justice is done to me with regard to the preceding\nvolumes. The languishing sale of this edition makes me conjecture that\nthe time is not yet come; and the general rage against the Scots is an\nadditional discouragement. I think the Scotch minister is obliged to\nmake me some compensation for this.\n\n\"I am told that Mr. Ralph is dead, who had certainly made a large\ncollection of books and pamphlets for his work. I should be glad to know\ninto whose hands they are fallen, and would purchase them if they could\nbe got at a reasonable price.\n\n\"I hear Dr. Armstrong has sent you over a most violent renunciation of\nWilkes's friendship.[148:1] Wilkes is indeed very blamable in indulging\nhimself so much in national reflections; which are low, vulgar, and\nungenerous, and come with a bad grace from him, who conversed so much\nwith our countrymen. My compliments to Mrs. Millar, who, I hope, will\nfavour me with a visit this summer. I am, dear sir, yours\nsincerely.\"[148:2]\n\n\nOn the same day he writes to Adam Smith:\n\n\"I set up a chaise in May next, which will give me the liberty of\ntravelling about; and you may be sure a journey to Glasgow will be one\nof the first I shall undertake. I intend to require, with great\nstrictness, an account how you have been employing your leisure, and I\ndesire you to be ready for that purpose. Wo be to you if the balance be\nagainst you! Your friends here will also expect that I should bring you\nwith me.\"[149:1]\n\nA few letters written at this time to his friends, on the subject of the\narrears of half-pay due for his services as judge-advocate,[149:2]\nafford the following passages of general interest. To Oswald he says, on\n3d April--\n\n\"I shall add, that it is the only thing in my life I ever asked, it is\nthe only thing I ever shall ask, and consequently, it is the only thing\nI ever shall obtain. Those who assist me in procuring it do me a great\nfavour, and I very willingly stand obliged to my friends for their good\noffices: but of the government and ministry, I ask it as my due. I\nimagined that after Lord Bute's consent was obtained, all difficulties\nhad been surmounted.\"[149:3]\n\nTo another correspondent he says,--\n\n\"To tell you the truth, dear Crawford, I made it a rule from the\nbeginning of my life never to seek a favour of any man; and this humour,\nwhich, if you be very indulgent to me, you will call modesty, if less\nso, pride, I was unwilling to relinquish, after having maintained it\nthrough my youth, and during more difficult circumstances than those in\nwhich I am at present placed.\"[149:4]\n\nHume, like every Scotsman of his day, who concerned himself with any\nthing beyond his own domestic circle, took a deep interest in the\nprogress of the Douglas cause. It is difficult, at the present day, to\nconceive the excitement which this litigation between private parties\noccasioned in the public mind. Men about to meet each other in company,\nused to lay an injunction on themselves not to open their lips on the\nsubject, so fruitful was it in debates and brawls; and yet too often\nfound that their prudence was no match for their enthusiasm. Hume\nadopted the view that the alleged children of Lady Jane Douglas were\nspurious. The Court of Session decided in favour of this opinion by a\nmajority of one; but their decision was afterwards reversed by the House\nof Lords. The reversal occasioned many severe animadversions on Lord\nMansfield, both by Hume and his friends.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 21st July, 1763._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--To-day is the grand question decided by our judges,\nwhether they will admit of any farther proof with regard to the Douglas\naffair, or whether they will rest contented with the proofs already\nproduced. Their partiality is palpable and astonishing; yet few people\nthink that they will dare to refuse inquiring into facts so remarkable\nand so strongly attested. They are at present sitting, but I hope to\ntell you the issue in a postscript. Our friend Johnstone[150:1] has\nwrote the most super-excellentest paper in the world, which he has\npromised to send to you this evening in franks. Please to deliver the\nenclosed to Colonel Barr\u00e9. I am,\" &c.[150:2]\n\n\nWe have already found one distinguished fellow-countryman of Hume\ncontroversially attacking his works. But another and greater critic was\nsoon to appear. Dr. Thomas Reid was preparing for the press his \"Inquiry\ninto the Human Mind,\" which he published in 1764. His was the greatest\nmind which set itself in opposition to Hume's system, in British\nliterature; and he was great, because he examined the works of the\nsceptical philosopher, not in the temper of a wrangler or partisan, but\nin the honest spirit of an investigator, who is bound either to believe\nin the arguments he is examining, or to set against them a system which\nwill satisfy his own mind, and the minds of other honest thinkers. Reid\nwas born in 1710, and he was exactly a year older than Hume, for the\nbirth-day of both was on the 26th of April.[151:1] The philosopher of\ncommon sense, thus brought the accumulated thought and learning of\nadvanced years to bear on a series of works which the sceptic had\ncommenced in early youth. There is something in Reid's method of laying\ndown his principles, and explaining their application, that disinclines\nthe reader to allow him the palm of original genius, and suggests the\nidea that he is a personification of the natural sagacity and useful\nindustry of his countrymen. But this feeling arises more from his hatred\nof such apparent paradoxes as Hume loved, from his courting rather than\navoiding what is familiar and intelligible, and from the titles he gave\nto his books, than from deficiency of true originality. Whether his\nmerit lay in his genius or his industry, he raised a new fabric of\nphilosophy out of part of those fragments to which the sceptic had\nreduced previous systems. The term \"common sense,\" which he used to\ncharacterize his system, had been long employed in philosophy; and if\n_bon sens_ may be held its equivalent, it is to be found in the\npreliminary dissertation of a French translation of Hume's miscellaneous\nessays, published in the same year as Reid's Inquiry.[152:1] Here, and\noccasionally by Reid, it is used in its popular sense, expressing\nphilosophical opinions derived from the general notions of mankind. In\nthis sense it is an application of induction to mental operations. It\nviews the opinions of men at large as so many experimental facts, which,\nas in the case of the physical operations of nature, may be subjected to\nthe rules of induction. Hume himself held that mental phenomena are as\nregular, and as capable of having laws of nature applied to them, as\nphysical phenomena. But even if he were right, there is a disturbing\ninfluence at force in the circumstance, that, as the operation of\ninduction is itself a phenomenon of the same class with those professed\nto be subjected to its observation, the philosopher is apt to embody in\nhis writings the intuitions, if they may be so termed, of his own mind,\ninstead of giving such an accurate transcript of the results of external\nobservation as the physical inquirer is generally enabled to present.\n\nIndeed, it is in promulgating the convictions of his own mind as a\nmetaphysical thinker, more than in his avowed project of inducting from\nthe common phenomena of the every-day world, that Reid's writings are\nmost valuable. In the one case he has told us how far Hume's philosophy\nis at variance with the general opinions of mankind; in which he is met\nby the comprehensive argument, that Hume may, nevertheless, be right,\nand the rest of mankind wrong. But in travelling beyond his avowed\nobject he certainly has anticipated many of those metaphysical\narguments, on which the basis of the sceptical philosophy has been\nattacked; and the world has, perhaps, yet to learn how far the great\nsystem of the German philosophers is under obligations to this powerful\nthinker.[153:1]\n\nBefore he put his \"Inquiry into the Human Mind,\" to press, Reid desired,\nthrough Blair's interposition, to subject the manuscript to Hume's\ninspection. Fearing that this work might too closely follow the\nWarburton school, Hume met the application with the rather petulant\nremark: \"I wish that the parsons would confine themselves to their old\noccupation of worrying one another, and leave philosophers to argue with\ntemper, moderation, and good manners.\" But, after inspecting the\nmanuscript, he thus addressed its author:\n\n     By Dr. Blair's means, I have been favoured with the perusal of\n     your performance, which I have read with great pleasure and\n     attention. It is certainly very rare that a piece so deeply\n     philosophical is wrote with so much spirit, and affords so\n     much entertainment to the reader; though I must still regret\n     the disadvantages under which I read it, as I never had the\n     whole performance at once before me, and could not be able\n     fully to compare one part with another. To this reason,\n     chiefly, I ascribed some obscurities, which, in spite of your\n     short analysis, or abstract, still seem to hang over your\n     system; for I must do you the justice to own that, when I\n     enter into your ideas, no man appears to express himself with\n     greater perspicuity than you do; a talent which, above all\n     others, is requisite in that species of literature which you\n     have cultivated. There are some objections, which I would\n     willingly propose, to the chapter \"Of sight,\" did I not\n     suspect that they proceed from my not sufficiently\n     understanding it; and I am the more confirmed in this\n     suspicion, as Dr. Blair tells me that the former objections I\n     made, had been derived chiefly from that cause. I shall\n     therefore forbear till the whole can be before me, and shall\n     not at present propose any further difficulties to your\n     reasonings. I shall only say that, if you have been able to\n     clear up these abstruse and important subjects, instead of\n     being mortified, I shall be so vain as to pretend to a share\n     of the praise; and shall think that my errors, by having at\n     least some coherence, had led you to make a more strict review\n     of my principles, which were the common ones, and to perceive\n     their futility.\n\n     As I was desirous to be of some use to you, I kept a watchful\n     eye all along over your style; but it is really so correct,\n     and so good English, that I found not any thing worth the\n     remarking. There is only one passage in this chapter, where\n     you make use of the phrase, _hinder to do_, instead of _hinder\n     from doing_, which is the English one; but I could not find\n     the passage when I sought for it. You may judge how\n     unexceptionable the whole appeared to me, when I could remark\n     so small a blemish. I beg my compliments to my friendly\n     adversaries, Dr. Campbell, and Dr. Gerard, and also to Dr.\n     Gregory, whom I suspect to be of the same disposition, though\n     he has not openly declared himself such.[154:1]\n\nThis letter called forth the following answer, valuable as an\nacknowledgment of the services which the Scottish school of philosophy\nowed to Hume.\n\n\nDR. REID _to_ HUME.\n\n     _King's College, 18th March, 1763._\n\n     SIR,--On Monday last, Mr. John Farquhar brought me your letter\n     of February 25th, enclosed in one from Dr. Blair. I thought\n     myself very happy in having the means of obtaining at\n     second-hand, through the friendship of Dr. Blair, your opinion\n     of my performance: and you have been pleased to communicate\n     it directly in so polite and friendly a manner, as merits\n     great acknowledgments on my part. Your keeping a watchful eye\n     over my style, with a view to be of use to me, is an instance\n     of candour and generosity to an antagonist, which would affect\n     me very sensibly, although I had no personal concern in it,\n     and I shall always be proud to follow so amiable an example.\n     Your judgment of the style, indeed, gives me great\n     consolation, as I was very diffident of myself in regard to\n     English, and have been indebted to Drs. Campbell and Gerard\n     for many corrections of that kind.\n\n     In attempting to throw some new light upon these abstruse\n     subjects, I wish to preserve the due mean betwixt confidence\n     and despair. But whether I have any success in this attempt or\n     not, I shall always avow myself your disciple in metaphysics.\n     I have learned more from your writings in this kind, than from\n     all others put together. Your system appears to me not only\n     coherent in all its parts, but likewise justly deduced from\n     principles commonly received among philosophers; principles\n     which I never thought of calling in question, until the\n     conclusions you draw from them in the \"Treatise of Human\n     Nature\" made me suspect them. If these principles are solid,\n     your system must stand; and whether they are or not, can\n     better be judged after you have brought to light the whole\n     system that grows out of them, than when the greater part of\n     it was wrapped up in clouds and darkness. I agree with you,\n     therefore, that if this system shall ever be demolished, you\n     have a just claim to a great share of the praise, both because\n     you have made it a distinct and determinate mark to be aimed\n     at, and have furnished proper artillery for the purpose.\n\n     When you have seen the whole of my performance, I shall take\n     it as a very great favour to have your opinion upon it, from\n     which I make no doubt of receiving light, whether I receive\n     conviction or no. Your friendly adversaries, Drs. Campbell and\n     Gerard, as well as Dr. Gregory, return their compliments to\n     you respectfully. A little philosophical society here, of\n     which all the three are members, is much indebted to you for\n     its entertainment. Your company would, although we are all\n     good Christians, be more acceptable than that of St.\n     Athanasius; and since we cannot have you upon the bench, you\n     are brought oftener than any other man to the bar, accused and\n     defended with great zeal, but without bitterness. If you write\n     no more in morals, politics, or metaphysics, I am afraid we\n     shall be at a loss for subjects. I am, respectfully, sir, your\n     most obliged humble servant.\n\n                                         THOMAS REID.[156:1]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[121:1] The works prepared by the Record Commission, whether it be true\nor not that it has failed to fulfil the services expected from so large\nan expenditure of the public money, present the sources of British\nhistory on a very different scale from that in which they appeared\nbefore Hume; and if he had lived in the present day, he would not have\nattempted to write the history of the first fourteen centuries in less\nthan three years; or, attempting it, would have palpably overlooked\nmaterials which, in his own time, he could not have found access to.\nAmong such sources may be viewed, Domesday Book, the Rotuli Hundredorum,\nthe many records of the various courts of justice, the \"Parliamentary\nwrits, or writs of military summons, together with the records and\nmuniments relating to the suit and service due and performed to the\nking's high court of parliament and the councils of the realm, as\naffording evidence of attendance given at parliaments and councils;\" the\nremains of Anglo-Saxon legislation, collected under the name of \"Ancient\nlaws and institutions of England,\" and the \"Ancient laws and institutes\nof Wales.\"\n\nTo these must be added the many antiquarian labours of private\nindividuals or societies, such as the county histories, the works\ncirculated by the numerous book clubs, and the inquiries into the early\necclesiastical history, which the controversies on church polity, for\nwhich this age is becoming peculiar, have excited. The publication of\ncharters and other documents connected with private rights has opened a\nmeans of becoming acquainted with contemporary habits and institutions,\nslow certainly but sure. Besides his labours in the Record Commission,\nSir Francis Palgrave has excavated much curious but not attractive\nmatter, of which the world will never know the value till some Hume\nshall arise to give it shape and symmetry.\n\nIt has been a usual practice to rank those who, by such critical\ninquiries, ascertain the truth regarding minute historical propositions,\nin the category of \"harmless drudges.\" But perhaps the character has\nbeen applied to the really useful workers in this field, as inaptly as\nit was appropriated by Dr. Johnson to the race of Lexicographers, in a\nmoment of bitter cynicism. Antiquarianism, arch\u00e6ology, pal\u00e6ology, or\nwhatever name it may receive, is a field in which there are many paltry\nworkers; and these are sometimes, from adventitious circumstances,\nconspicuous enough to give a tone in popular estimation to the science.\nDates are but one, and perhaps an inferior branch, of the subject; yet\nthe labours of Petau, of Antine Durand and Clemencet the authors of the\n\"Art de v\u00e9rifier les dates,\" of Newton, Hailes, and Nicolas, would be\nenough to vindicate the dignity of this species of inquiry. It is,\nindeed, an essential one to history; and where it has been vaguely or\nunscientifically applied, the foundations of historical speculation are\nrotten. The prevalent failing of antiquaries is the inability to\ndistinguish the important from the trifling; to perceive that the labour\nwhich might be necessary to fix the era of the restoration of the study\nof the civil law in Europe, would be ill bestowed on an inquiry into the\nfoundation of some inconsiderable rectorship, or the birth of some\nundistinguished landed proprietor. But there is perhaps as much\nworthless historical Speculation as trifling Antiquarianism extant in\nliterature. But it does not follow in either case, from the defects of\nthe injudicious, that the able and accomplished followers of the subject\nwere ill employed. A late and signal instance may be adduced of the\nintimate connexion of the speculative and the minute departments of\nhistory. Dr. Allen, in his \"Inquiry into the rise and progress of the\nroyal prerogative,\" maintaining that the older kings of England did not\nperform public acts until they had taken the coronation oath of fidelity\nto the people, found that there was just one exception, in the case of\nRichard II. which disconcerted his theory. It was subsequently shown by\nSir Harris Nicolas, in his \"Chronology of History,\" that in \"Rymer's\nF\u0153dera,\" and other public documents, the regnal years of that reign had\nbeen by mistake antedated a year.\n\nBut while it does not follow that the one occupation is less dignified\nthan the other, it is pretty clear that they cannot, to any great\nextent, be both followed by the same person. The limits of human\ncapacity, and the shortness of human life, seem to forbid such an union;\nfor literature has produced no one who unites the qualities of a Camden,\na Mabillon, and a Montfou\u00e7on, with those of a Hume and a Montesquieu,\nthough Gibbon and Niebuhr have perhaps come nearest to the union. Mr.\nD'Israeli says, (Curiosities of Literature, ii. 182,) \"The time has\nperhaps arrived, when antiquaries may begin to be philosophers, and\nphilosophers antiquaries. The unhappy separation of erudition from\nphilosophy, and of philosophy from erudition, has hitherto thrown\nimpediments in the progress of the human mind, and the history of man.\"\nBut unless that author has himself achieved the united title, by showing\nthat James I. was a man of great mind, and by characterizing political\neconomy as a mere \"confusion of words,\" the combination appears not to\nhave yet been accomplished; and indeed the simple physical impossibility\nof the same person who brings the fabric to perfection, having time to\nproduce the raw materials, seems to render it necessary that in all such\nhistories as that which Hume undertook, the antiquary shall precede the\nhistorian.\n\n[129:1] It does not appear that even the surreptitious fragments of\nVoltaire's work were printed earlier than the year in which the first\nvolume of the \"History of the Stuarts\" was published--1754. In the\nEssai, Voltaire thus contrasts Hume's sagacity as an historian with the\npropagators of monkish legends. \"Les moines Fr\u00e9degaire et Aimoin le\ndisent: mais ces moines, sont-ils des De Thou et des Humes?\" Edit. 1785,\nvol. i. p. 235.\n\n[132:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[133:1] It must be observed, that this method of referring to\nauthorities and collating them, is, even by Hume's account of it, one\nwhich a scrupulous investigator would call slovenly. The admission of\nany authorities at second hand is, to the extent to which it may be\ncarried, a breach of the historian's duty. To make sure that he had\nrightly estimated their meaning on a first perusal, he should have\ncollated all his references in proof.\n\n[134:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[134:2] In a letter to Millar, dated 8th October, 1763, he says, on the\noccasion of receiving a copy of a series of engravings, which have not\nyet been surpassed, \"I have been obliged to Mr. Strange for a present of\nall his prints. He is a very worthy man, whom I value much, and\ntherefore I desire you would send him a copy of this new edition of my\nHistory.\"\n\n[135:1] In a letter to Millar, of 6th April, 1758, (MS. R.S.E.) he thus\nalludes to Smollett's work: \"I am afraid the extraordinary run upon Dr.\nSmollett, has a little hurt your sales; but these things are only\ntemporary.\"\n\n[135:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[137:1] Information communicated by Joseph Grant, Esq.\n\n[137:2] This is shown by a paper of no great importance in itself, among\nthe MSS. R.S.E. It is simply a document of instructions for defending an\naction against Hume, by a builder for repairs. It is in his own hand,\nand begins,--\n\n\"At Whitsunday last, Mr. Boswell, advocate, left Mr. Hume's house in\nJames's Court; and Lady Wallace, dowager, came to it. Mrs. Boswell at\nthat time sent for Adam Gillies, mason, to repair some plaister which\nwas broken. Having by this means got access to the house, he went about\nand teased Lady Wallace, by telling her that many other things needed\nrepairs. She frequently bid him let her alone, for she saw no occasion\nto trouble the landlord for any thing. Notwithstanding this, he came to\nMr. Hume, and told him that the stone pavement in the kitchen, under the\ncoal bunker, was all shattered, and must be repaired; and that he was\nsent by Lady Wallace to tell him so. Mr. Hume having entire trust in\nLady Wallace's discretion, gave him orders to repair that pavement of\nthe bunker. Gillies brought him in an account for many other repairs on\nthe pavement of the kitchen. Mr. Hume told him that he had exceeded his\norders; and that he would not pay him till he should see Lady Wallace,\nwho was at that time in the country. When she came to town, she told Mr.\nHume the fact, and that Gillies had come to him, not only without her\norders but contrary to them. At the same time, Mrs. Boswell, who had\nlived two years in the house, told him, that when she left it, she saw\nnothing in the kitchen pavement which needed repairs. Mr. Hume therefore\nrefused to pay Gillies for any thing, except for the plaister, and also\nfor whitening the kitchen, for which he had orders. This is the cause\nbefore the court.\"\n\n[138:1] It is supposed to have been of Hume that, when some one, in Mrs.\nPiozzi's presence, observed, that he had the _lumi\u00e8res_, Johnson said,\n\"Just enough to light him to hell.\" Boswell mentions his having uttered\na remark about Hume, too gross to be committed to paper. It is said\nthat, when in Hume's presence, a mutual friend offered to make Johnson\nacquainted with him, the author of the \"Rambler\" roared out, \"No, sir.\"\n\n[140:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[141:1] It is pretty well known, that he managed to persuade Garrick\nthat a niche would be found, in the life of the first commander of his\nday, for the first dramatist of the succeeding generation. The manager\nimmediately asked if Mallet had given up writing for the stage:\nfortunately he discovered that he had not; he had a manuscript play in\nhis pocket.\n\nWith Mrs. Mallet, who was in all respects worthy of her husband, Hume\nhad some acquaintance; but he does not appear to have had much respect\nfor her. Lord Charlemont says, \"I never saw him so much displeased, or\nso much disconcerted, as by the petulance of Mrs. Mallet, the conceited\nwife of Bolingbroke's editor. This lady, who was not acquainted with\nHume, meeting him one night at an assembly, boldly accosted him in these\nwords, 'Mr. Hume, give me leave to introduce myself to you; we Deists\nought to know each other.' 'Madam,' replied he, 'I am no Deist; I do not\nstyle myself so, neither do I desire to be known by that\nappellation.'\"--_Hardy's Memoir of Charlemont_, p. 122.\n\n[142:1] This letter is not dated. It may be questioned whether it be\neither the one referred to in the preceding, or in the following letter\nby Hume.\n\n[143:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[144:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[146:1] The alteration of the customs duties by the authority of the\ncrown.\n\n[146:2] The case of Sir George Markham, who was fined \u00a310,000 in the\nStar-chamber, for rudeness to a peer, is not stated in the first\nedition. In the latest editions, the case is stated as it had been set\ndown on Lansdowne's authority, and there is merely a note mentioning\nthat Hobart gives a different account of it. See Hobart, p. 120.\n\n[147:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[147:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[148:1] The quarrel between Wilkes and Armstrong excited much interest.\nThey had been close friends, and Wilkes had advanced money to Armstrong\nin his need. The latter had ventured to pass a slight sarcasm on\nChurchill, who returned it ten-fold, taking Wilkes to his assistance,\nwho abused Armstrong among the other Scots, in some letters in _The\nPublic Advertiser_. A very amusing and dramatic dialogue between them\nwill be found in _The Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1782.\n\n[148:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[149:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[149:2] See Vol. I. p. 221.\n\n[149:3] Memorials of Oswald, p. 79.\n\n[149:4] Scroll MS. R.S.E.\n\n[150:1] William Johnstone of Westerhall, afterwards Sir William\nPulteney.\n\n[150:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[151:1] Stewart's Life of Reid. It is not stated whether the date is\nestimated by the old or the new style. Hume's birth-day is old style.\n\n[152:1] Oeuvres Philosophiques de M. D. Hume, &c., 4 vols. 12mo, 1764.\n\n[153:1] When are the public to be in possession of Sir William\nHamilton's edition of Reid? I have had the privilege of seeing the proof\nsheets of this work, so far as it had proceeded, before ill health had,\nfor a time, interrupted the labours of the professor of logic. The\nquantity of learning and deep thought concentrated in the commentary, is\nsuch as, perhaps, but one man in this country could have brought\ntogether; and the natural feeling suggested on the perusal was, regret\nthat so much of these qualities had been expended in notes and\nillustrative essays, instead of being published in a separate work.\n\n[154:1] Stewart's Life of Reid.\n\n[156:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n1763-1764. \u00c6t. 52-53.\n\n     Lord Hertford's appointment to the French Embassy, and\n     invitation to Hume to accompany him--Correspondence on the\n     occasion--Residence in London, and remarks on the Political\n     Movements of 1763--State of his reputation in France--His\n     Arrival--Letters to friends at home about his flattering\n     reception--The young French princes--Observations on eminent\n     French people--His recommendations to a Clergyman--\n     Introductions of Fellow Countrymen.\n\n\nOn the conclusion of the treaty of 1763, the Marquis of Hertford was\nappointed ambassador to the court of France. He invited Hume to attend\nhim as secretary; and there is no reason to believe that the selection\nwas owing to any other motive than the desire to place an able and\nhonest man in office. The Marquis was a man of high moral character, and\nhis religious opinions appear to have been considered by some of his\ncontemporaries as too zealous and exclusive. The intercourse thus\noccasioned, was the commencement of a lasting friendship, in which the\nEnglish Marquis and the Scottish philosopher, however separated by\nnominal difference of rank, had too genuine a respect for each other to\nbe affected by such inequalities. The intimacy extended to General\nSeymour Conway, the brother of the Marquis; and Hume's intercourse with\nthem both, tends to confirm the impression which the portraits of the\ntwo brothers convey to the present generation, of dispositions open,\nkind, and artless. In reference to this event, Hume says, in his \"own\nlife,\" \"I retired to my native country of Scotland, determined never\nmore to set my foot out of it; and retaining the satisfaction of never\nhaving preferred a request to one great man, or even making advances of\nfriendship to any of them. As I was now turned of fifty, I thought of\npassing all the rest of my life in this philosophical manner, when I\nreceived, in 1763, an invitation from the Earl of Hertford, with whom I\nwas not in the least acquainted, to attend him on his embassy to Paris,\nwith a near prospect of being appointed secretary to the embassy, and,\nin the meanwhile, of performing the functions of that office. This\noffer, however inviting, I at first declined, both because I was\nreluctant to begin connexions with the great, and because I was afraid\nthat the civilities and gay company of Paris, would prove disagreeable\nto a person of my age and humour: but on his lordship's repeating the\ninvitation, I accepted of it. I have every reason, both of pleasure and\ninterest, to think myself happy in my connexions with that nobleman, as\nwell as afterwards with his brother, General Conway.\"\n\nWe have, in his familiar correspondence, a fuller account of his\nfeelings on the occasion.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 9th August, 1763._\n\n\"MY DEAR FRIEND,--I have got an invitation, accompanied with great\nprospects and expectations, from Lord Hertford, if I would accompany\nhim, though at first without any character, in his embassy to Paris. I\nhesitated much on the acceptance of this offer, though in appearance\nvery inviting: and I thought it ridiculous at my years, to be entering\non a new scene, and to put myself in the lists as a candidate of\nfortune. But I reflected that I had in a manner abjured all literary\noccupations; that I resolved to give up my future life entirely to\namusements; that there could not be a better pastime than such a\njourney, especially with a man of Lord Hertford's character; and that it\nwould be easy to prevent my acceptance from having the least appearance\nof dependance. For these reasons, and by the advice of every friend whom\nI consulted, I at last agreed to accompany his lordship, and I set out\nto-morrow for London. I am a little hurried in my preparations; but I\ncould not depart without bidding you adieu, my good friend, and without\nacquainting you with the reasons of so sudden a movement. I have not\ngreat expectations of revisiting this country soon; but I hope it will\nnot be impossible but we may meet abroad, which will be a great\nsatisfaction to me. I am,\" &c.[158:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ BARON MURE.\n\n\"_Lisle St. 1st Sept. 1763._\n\n\"MY DEAR BARON,--As I am not sure where you are, nor whether this\ndirection be right, I am obliged to speak to you with reserve, both of\npublic affairs and of my own. Of the latter, I shall only say, that\nnotwithstanding of my first reluctance, I am entirely reconciled to my\npresent situation, and have a great prepossession, or rather, indeed, a\ngreat esteem and affection for the person and family whom I am to\naccompany to France. The prospect of my being secretary to the embassy\nis neither very distant nor is it immediate; but Lord Hertford will\ncertainly, before our departure, obtain a settlement for me for life;\nwhich at any events will improve my fortune, and is a great pledge of\nhis friendship and regard.\n\n\"I have insulted [consulted] Elliot, Sir Harry, Oswald, and all our\nfriends of that administration. The former said to me, that my situation\nwas, taking all its circumstances, the most wonderful event in the\nworld. I was now a person clean and white as the driven snow; and that\nwere I to be proposed for the see of Lambeth, no objection could\nhenceforth be made to me. What makes the matter more extraordinary, is,\nthat the idea first came into my patron's head, without the suggestion\nof any one mortal.[159:1]\n\n\"You must have heard of the late most astonishing events with regard to\npublic affairs.[159:2] Yesterday Lord Bute had a pretty large company\ndining with him, to whom he gave an account of the whole transactions,\nand desired them to publish it.\n\n\"One of them, a friend of mine, as soon as he went home, took it down in\nwriting, of which he gave me a copy, and which I transmit to you. He is\na military man, and his style is not elegant; but I am sure, from\nanother certain authority, that the account is in the main just; only I\nhave reason to think that Lord Halifax was proscribed along with the\nrest; at least he said so yesterday to a friend of mine. I wish this\nhigh spirit of his M. may be supported. But _femme qui \u00e9coute et ville\nqui parle sont bient\u00f4t rendues_. Lord Bute goes abroad very soon. Some\npretend that the present administration is more enraged against him than\nis the opposition, on account of his taking this important step without\nconsulting them. Never in any history was there so curious a scene; nor\nwas there ever so formidable a demagogue as this man. Lord Sandwich, it\nis said, will be secretary for some weeks; our friend Wood is so at\npresent. Many of the leading men in the opposition were left out on Mr.\nPitt's plan; which, it is thought, will breed dissensions among them.\n\n\"I dined yesterday with Lord Chesterfield, along with Colonel Irvine.\nThe Colonel made an apology for our arriving so late, on account of his\nbeing detained at court. 'At court?' said my lord: 'I should be glad to\nknow what place that is.' Dear Mure, yours.\"[160:1]\n\n\nIn an earlier part of this work, we have found Hume narrating events of\ncontemporary military history. In the following, as in the preceding\nletter, he gives his version of a celebrated ministerial revolution, of\nwhich the public is as yet possessed of no account which is not liable\nto doubt.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Lisle St. 13th Sept. 1763._\n\n\"MY DEAR SMITH,--The settlement which I had made in Scotland was so much\nto my mind, I had indeed struck root so heartily, that it was with the\nutmost reluctance I could think of transplanting myself, and I began to\napproach towards that age in which these experiments became no longer\npracticable with safety. I own that, on my arrival in London, I found\nevery circumstance more inviting than I had reason to expect;\nparticularly the characters of Lord and Lady Hertford, who are allowed\nto be the two persons the most unexceptionable among all the English\nnobility. Even that circumstance of Lord Hertford's character, his great\npiety, ought to make my connexions with him more agreeable, both because\nit is not attended with any thing sour and rigid, and because I draw the\nmore honour from his choice, while he overlooked so many seeming\nobjections which lay against me on that head. My fortune also receives a\ngreat addition during life from this connexion; besides many openings to\nambition, were I so simple as to be exposed to temptation from that\npassion.\n\n\"But, notwithstanding all these considerations, shall I tell you the\ntruth? I repine at my loss of ease and leisure, and retirement and\nindependence; and it is not without a sigh I look backwards, nor without\nreluctance that I cast my eye forwards. Is this sentiment an instinct\nwhich admonishes me of the situation most proper and suitable to me? Or\nis it a momentary disgust, the effect of low spirits, which company and\namusement, and a better state of health, will soon dissipate and remove?\nI must wait with patience till I see the decision of this question.\n\n\"I find that one view of Lord Hertford in engaging me to go along with\nhim is, that he thinks I may be useful to Lord Beauchamp in his studies.\nThat young nobleman is generally spoke of as very amiable and very\npromising; but I remember, though faintly, to have heard from you\nsomething to the contrary, which you had heard from that severe critic,\nMr. Herbert: I should be obliged to you for informing me of it. I have\nnot yet seen my Lord Beauchamp, who is at this time in Paris. We shall\nnot leave London these three weeks.\n\n\"You have, no doubt, heard of the strange jumble among our ministers,\nand of the negotiation opened with Mr. Pitt. Never story was told with\nsuch contrary circumstances as that of his secret conference with the\nking, and of the terms demanded by that popular leader. The general\noutlines of the whole story seem to be these:\n\n\"Lord Bute, disgusted with the ministers, who had almost universally\nconspired to neglect him, and suspecting their bottom to be too narrow,\nhad, before Lord Egremont's death, opened a negotiation with Mr. Pitt,\nby means of Lord Shelburne, who employed Calcraft the agent. Mr. Pitt\nsays, that he always declared it highly improper that he should be\nbrought to the king, before all terms were settled on such a footing as\nto render it impossible for them to separate without agreeing. He\naccordingly thought they were settled. His first conference with the\nking confirmed him in that opinion, and he wrote to the Duke of\nDevonshire to come to town, in order to place himself at the head of the\ntreasury. The Duke of Newcastle said, at his table on Sunday was a\nfortnight, that the ministry was settled. But when Mr. Pitt came to the\nking that afternoon, he found him entirely changed, and every thing was\nretracted that had been agreed on. This is his story. The other party\nsays, that he rose in his terms, and wanted to impose the most\nexorbitant conditions on his sovereign. I suppose that the first\nconference passed chiefly in generals, and that Mr. Pitt would then be\nextremely humble, and submissive, and polite, and dutiful in his\nexpressions. But when he came to particulars, they did not seem to\ncorrespond with these appearances. At least, this is the best account I\ncan devise of the matter, consistent with the honour of both parties.\n\n\"You would see the present ministry by the papers. It is pretended that\nthey are enraged against Lord Bute, for negotiating without their\nknowledge or consent; and that the other party are no less displeased\nwith him for not finishing the treaty with them. That nobleman declared\nhis resolution of going abroad a week or two ago. Now he is determined\nto pass the winter in London. Our countrymen are visibly hurt in this\njustle of parties, which I believe to be far from the intentions of Lord\nBute. Lord Shelburne resigned, because he found himself obnoxious on\naccount of his share in the negotiation. I see you are much displeased\nwith that nobleman, but he always speaks of you with regard. I hear that\nyour pupil, Mr. Fitzmaurice, makes a very good figure at Paris.\n\n\"It is generally thought that Mr. Pitt has gained credit and force by\nthis negotiation. It turns the eyes of the public towards him. It shows\nthat the king can overlook personal resentment against him and Lord\nTemple. It gains him the confidence of his own party, who see that he\nwas negotiating for the whole of them; and puts people in mind of the\nFrench rhyme,--_ville qui parle et femme qui \u00e9coute_.\n\n\"You would hear that the case of the Douglas is now made clear, even in\nthe eyes the most blinded and most prejudiced, which I am glad of on\naccount of our friends. I am,\" &c.[163:1]\n\n\nThe following notice, by one who has unfortunately left nothing behind\nto show posterity the grounds on which his reputation rested, the Rev.\nDr. Carlyle, will be read with interest.\n\n     Robertson has managed with great address: he is principal,\n     chaplain, minister, historiographer, and historian; that is to\n     say, he has \u00a350 a-year and a house, certain, besides what he\n     can make by his books. It was taken for granted that he was to\n     resign his charge on being appointed historiographer with \u00a3200\n     salary; but that he will do at his leisure. It is also\n     supposed by his patrons, that he is to write the History of\n     Britain in ten volumes quarto; that also, I presume, (dreadful\n     task,) he will execute at his leisure.\n\n     Honest David Home, [Hume,] with the heart of all others that\n     rejoices most at the prosperity of his friends, was certainly\n     a little hurt with this last honour conferred on Robertson. A\n     lucky accident has given him relief. The Earl of Hertford is\n     appointed ambassador to France: not very capable himself, they\n     have loaded him with an insignificant secretary, one Charles\n     Bunbury, who, for the sake of pleasure, more than the thousand\n     a-year, solicited for the office. Hertford knew David, and\n     some good genius prompted him to ask him to go along and\n     manage the business. It is an honourable character: he will\n     see his friends in France. If he tires, he can return when he\n     pleases. Bunbury will probably tire first, and then David will\n     become secretary.[164:1]\n\nThe following letter, without address, appears to have been written to\nDr. Carlyle.\n\n\n\"_Lisle Street, 15th Sept. 1763._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--The case of poor Blacklock gives me great distress; and\nso much the more, as I am afraid it is not in the power of any human\nbeing to relieve him.[165:1] His unhappiness seems to proceed from the\ninfirmity of his body, and the delicacy, not to say weakness, of his\nmind. He has wrote to me letters full of the bitterest anguish, on\naccount of the treatment he meets with from his parishioners. I believe\nit is not good; but it is impossible not to think it exaggerated by his\nimagination: and I am of your opinion that the same persecution, partly\nreal, partly imaginary, would follow him in every other settlement. I\nhad concerted with Baron Mure a very likely scheme for his removal; but\nto what purpose would this serve, if the same complaints must return in\nhis new situation? I agree with you, that a small pension, could it be\nobtained, might bestow on him some degree of tranquillity; but how to\nobtain it I profess I do not know, as I suppose you will readily\nbelieve. That door was never very wide for men of letters; and is become\nstill narrower than ever.\"\n\n\nHe proceeds, in terms similar to those already recorded, to state his\nsatisfaction in the connexion with Lord Hertford, and continues:--\n\n\n\"I go to a place of the world which I have always admired the most; and\nit is not easy to imagine a reception better than I have reason to\nexpect. What, then, can be wanting to my happiness? I hope, nothing; or\nif any thing, it will only be an age and temper better adapted to vanity\nand dissipation. I beg of you to embrace Mrs. Carlisle in my name, and\nto assure her of my sincere respects.\n\n\"I write no politics, having now become a politician. Please address\nyourself to John Hume for information on that head. Let him explain to\nyou his patron's situation!!!! Pray, is there any body such an idiot at\npresent as to be a partisan of the Douglas?\"\n\n\nTo obtain literary distinction in France at that time, was to be\nreceived at court. The star of Germany had not yet risen in the horizon\nof literature, and the great monarch and warrior of the Teutonic tribes\ntreated his native tongue as the speech of boors, tried to distinguish\nhimself in French literature, and was ambitious of being received into\nequal companionship with the popular authors of France. Britain,\nnotwithstanding her series of illustrious names, had not yet quite\nshaken off an air of provincialism. Shakspere was a strange wild genius,\nfull of barbarisms and abominable galimatias: Voltaire had said it, and\nit was a judgment, not an opinion. Some discontented Frerons or Arnauds,\nmight cavil against it: but this was rebellion, not controversy. The\ngreatness of our masters in science and philosophy was fully admitted;\nbut they were viewed as citizens of the great world of letters,\naccidentally born in one of its more barren districts; and they were\nscarcely more closely identified with the national literature of their\ncountry, than Linn\u00e6us might be with that of Sweden, or Tycho Brahe with\nthat of Denmark. In truth, the apparent interregnum, following the\ndecline of the Latin as the literary language of the world, appeared\nlikely to end in the establishment of the French as its successor. Such\nexpectations gave to the literature of France a metropolitan air, with\nwhich no other could cope; and communicated to those natives of other\nplaces, whose name was honoured in the French circles of letters, a\ncorresponding elevation.[167:1] Hume would have been impervious to the\nmost conclusive evidence on the subject, if he had failed to know how\ngreatly he was honoured among all the literary circles of the continent,\nand particularly in those of the metropolis of literature. Lord Elibank,\nwriting from Paris, on 11th May, 1763, says to him, \"No author ever yet\nattained to that degree of reputation in his own lifetime that you are\nnow in possession of at Paris;\"[167:2] and the extent of his fame was\nabundantly attested by others.[167:3]\n\nHume arrived in France on the 14th day of October, 1763. Of his\nreception, his own letters will give the best account.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Fontainbleau, 26th Oct. 1763._\n\n\"MY DEAR SMITH,--I have been three days at Paris, and two at\nFontainbleau, and have every where met with the most extraordinary\nhonours, which the most exorbitant vanity could wish or desire. The\ncompliments of dukes and marischals of France, and foreign ambassadors,\ngo for nothing with me at present: I retain a relish for no kind of\nflattery but that which comes from the ladies. All the courtiers, who\nstood around when I was introduced to Madame de Pompadour, assured me\nthat she was never heard to say so much to any man; and her brother, to\nwhom she introduced me,----[169:1] But I forget already, that I am to\nscorn all the civilities of men. However, even Madame Pompadour's\ncivilities were, if possible, exceeded by those of the Duchesse de\nChoiseul, the wife of the favourite and Prime Minister, and one of the\nladies of the most distinguished merit in France. Not contented with the\nmany obliging things she said to me on my first introduction, she sent\nto call me from the other end of the room, in order to repeat them, and\nto enter into a short conversation with me: and not contented with that,\nshe sent the Danish ambassador after me, to assure me, that what she\nsaid was not from politeness, but that she seriously desired to be in\nfriendship and correspondence with me. There is not a courtier in\nFrance, who would not have been transported with joy, to have had the\nhalf of these obliging things said to him by either of these great\nladies; but what may appear more extraordinary, both of them, as far as\nI could conjecture, have read with some care all my writings that have\nbeen translated into French,--that is, almost all my writings. The king\nsaid nothing particular to me, when I was introduced to him; and (can\nyou imagine it) I was become so silly, as to be a little mortified by\nit, till they told me, that he never says any thing to any body the\nfirst time he sees them. The Dauphin, as I am told from all hands,\ndeclares himself on every occasion very strongly in my favour; and many\npeople assure me, that I have reason to be proud of his judgment, even\nwere he an individual. I have scarce seen any of the geniuses of Paris,\nwho, I think, have in general great merit, as men of letters. But every\nbody is forward to tell me the high panegyrics I receive from them; and\nyou may believe that ----[170:1] approbation which has procured me all\nthese civilities from the courtiers.\n\n\"I know you are ready to ask me, my dear friend, if all this does not\nmake me very happy: No, I feel little or no difference. As this is the\nfirst letter I write to my friends at home, I have amused myself, (and I\nhope I have amused you,) by giving you a very abridged account of these\ntransactions. But can I ever forget, that it is the very same species,\nthat would scarce show me common civilities a very few years ago at\nEdinburgh, who now receive me with such applauses at Paris? I assure\nyou, I reap more internal satisfaction from the very amiable manners\nand character of the family in which I live, (I mean Lord and Lady\nHertford, and Lord Beauchamp,) than from all these external vanities;\nand it is that domestic enjoyment which must be considered as the\nagreeable circumstance in my situation. During the two last days, in\nparticular, that I have been at Fontainbleau I have _suffered_ (the\nexpression is not improper) as much flattery as almost any man has ever\ndone in the same time. But there are few days in my life, when I have\nbeen in good health, that I would not rather pass over again. Mr.\nNeville, our minister, an honest, worthy English gentleman, who carried\nme about, was astonished at the civilities I met with; and has assured\nme, that on his return, he will not fail to inform the king of England\nand the English ministry of all these particulars. But enough of all\nthese follies. You see I trust to your friendship, that you will forgive\nme; and to your discretion, that you will keep my secret.\n\n\"I had almost forgot, in these effusions, shall I say of my misanthropy\nor my vanity, to mention the subject which first put my pen in my hand.\nThe Baron d'Holbach, whom I saw at Paris, told me, that there was one\nunder his eye that was translating your 'Theory of Moral Sentiments;'\nand desired me to inform you of it.[171:1] Mr. Fitzmaurice, your old\nfriend, interests himself strongly in this undertaking. Both of them\nwish to know, if you propose to make any alterations on the work, and\ndesire you to inform me of your intentions in that particular. Please\ndirect to me under cover to the Earl of Hertford at Northumberland\nHouse, London. Letters so directed will be sent to us at Paris. I desire\nmy compliments to all friends. I am, my dear Smith, yours\nsincerely.\"[172:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ PROFESSOR FERGUSON.\n\n\"_Fontainbleau, 9th Nov. 1763._\n\n\"DEAR FERGUSON,--I have now passed four days at Paris, and about a\nfortnight in the court at Fontainbleau, amidst a people who, from the\nroyal family downwards, seem to have it much at heart to persuade me, by\nevery expression of esteem, that they consider me as one of the greatest\ngeniuses in the world. I am convinced that Louis XIV. never, in any\nthree weeks of his life, suffered so much flattery: I say suffered, for\nit really confounds and embarrasses me, and makes me look sheepish. Lord\nHertford has told them they will chase me out of France, _\u00e0 coup de\ncomplimens et de louanges_. Our friend, General Clerk, came to this\nplace after I had passed a week in it; and the first thing he said to me\nwas, that he was sure I had never passed so many days with so little\nsatisfaction. I asked him how he had happened to guess so well. He said,\nbecause he knew me, and knew the French. I really wish often for the\nplain roughness of the _Poker_,[172:2] and particularly the sharpness of\nDr. Jardine, to correct and qualify so much lusciousness. However, I\nmeet sometimes with incidents that please me, because they contain no\nmixture of French complaisance or exaggeration. Yesterday I dined at the\nDuc de Praslin's, the secretary of state. After we had risen from\ndinner, I went into a corner to converse with somebody; when I saw\nenter the room, a tall gentleman, a little elderly, with a riband and\nstar, who immediately called out to the Duchesse de Praslin, 'H\u00e9, Madame\nla Duchesse, que je suis content, j'ai vu Monsieur Hume \u00e0 la cour\naujourd'hui.' Upon inquiry, I was told he was a man of quality, esteemed\none of the cleverest and most sensible about the court.\n\n\"In two or three days we return to Paris, where I hope to live more at\nmy ease, and shall pass my time with really great men; for there are\nsuch at present amongst the literati of France. Certainly there is\nsomething perverse, either in the structure of our mind, or in the\nincidents of life. My present situation ought naturally to appear an\nobject of envy; for besides those circumstances of an universal good\nreception from all ranks of people, nothing can be more amiable than the\ncharacter of the family with whom I live, and nothing can be more\nfriendly than their behaviour to me. My fortune has already received a\nconsiderable increase by a pension procured me by Lord Hertford, and\nsettled as they tell me for life. Mr. Bunbury has been told that he must\nnot go to Paris, which my lord considers as a sure prelude to my being\nsoon secretary to the embassy; an office which will expose me to little\nexpense, and bring me a thousand a-year increase of revenue, and puts me\nin the road to all the great foreign employments. Yet I am sensible that\nI set out too late, and that I am misplaced; and I wish, twice or thrice\na-day, for my easy chair and my retreat in James's Court! Never think,\ndear Ferguson, that as long as you are master of your own fireside and\nyour own time, you can be unhappy, or that any other circumstance can\nmake an addition to your enjoyment.\n\n\"When I think of my own house, you may believe I often reflect on\nJosey, who I am afraid will be more a loser by my absence, than ever I\nshall be a gainer by it; I mean in point of his education. I beg of you\nto have some inspection over him, and as often as my sister shall send\nto you to ask your advice, that you will be sure to give it. I am afraid\nthat there occurs a difficulty at present about entering him to the\nGreek. He is too far advanced by his learning for the class in the High\nSchool to which he is put, and yet he is too young to go to the college:\nfor this reason I thought that he might learn something of the Greek\nbefore he finished his Latin course, as is the practice in England; and,\naccordingly, Murray in Musselburgh gave him some lessons in that\nlanguage. I propose that he should continue on the same footing in\nEdinburgh; but I am at a loss how it may be done. A master to himself\nalone, would not give him any emulation; and were he put to any other\nschool for this purpose, the hours would interfere with those of the\nHigh School. Be so good as speak to Mathison, and then give your opinion\nto my sister.\n\n\"Please remember me to Mr. and Mrs. Adams.[174:1] I saw Willie a moment\nat Fontainbleau: he had arrived a quarter of an hour after Jemmy left\nit, whom I did not see. These two brothers have been hunting one another\nin vain through all France; but I hope they have met at last in Paris.\n\n\"When you favour me with a letter, put it under cover to the Earl of\nHertford, and direct it to him at Northumberland House, in the Strand;\nletters so directed come to us with the greatest safety. Make my\ncompliments to Baron Mure, and Mrs. Mure, and all that family. I shall\nwrite to the Baron soon. Tell Dr. Blair that I have conversed here twice\nor thrice with the Duchesse D'Aiguillon, who has been amusing herself\nwith translating passages of Ossian; and I have assured her that the\nauthenticity of those poems is to be proved soon beyond all\ncontradiction. Andrew Stuart is here at present: I meet with nobody here\nthat doubts of the justice of his cause. I hope your fine judges will at\nlast be ashamed of their scandalous partiality. I should be glad to hear\nof all friends. I am, dear Ferguson, with great sincerity and without\nflattery, your affectionate friend and servant.\n\n\"P.S.--I beg you to keep the follies of the above letter to yourself. I\nhad a letter from Lord Marischal to-day, who tells me that he is to pass\nthe winter at Edinburgh. Wait often on him; you will like him extremely:\ncarry all our friends to him, and endeavour to make him pass his time as\nagreeably as possible.\"[175:1]\n\n\nWe shall have farther opportunities of observing the affectionate\nanxiety with which Hume watched over the education of his nephews. Adam\nFerguson appears to have undertaken the task of noticing the progress of\nJoseph, the elder nephew, during Hume's absence, to whom he writes, in\nanswer to the above:--\n\n     _Edinburgh, 26th Nov. 1763._\n\n     At present his journal, as he tells me, begins with getting up\n     at eight, taking his breakfast and going to school, where he\n     remains to eleven. Then to the High School Yard to play at\n     Englishman and Scotsman, or the hare and the dogs; of which I\n     take the merit, as I saved him from the writing-school at that\n     hour. He returns to school at twelve, and continues till two:\n     goes to writing between three and four; and spends his\n     evenings, as he tells me, in getting his school tasks, or in\n     reading amusing books,--such as his uncle's history. In short,\n     he is a very amiable boy, with quick parts, in my opinion as\n     well as yours; and there is no doubt but he will do well. I am\n     very glad of every thing that gives you pleasure,--even of\n     some things that give you pain. From all accounts, both before\n     and since you went to Paris, it might be foreseen that your\n     reception, even from sincere as well as affected admirers,\n     would amount to a degree of teasing. But all for the best, as\n     my fellow philosopher, Pangloss, says. I don't care if you are\n     \"chass\u00e9 de France \u00e0 coups de complimens, et accabl\u00e9 en\n     Angleterre \u00e0 coups de richesse,\" so as not to find any rest to\n     the soles of your feet out of Scotland. I would fain consider\n     every accession to your fortune as so many dishes added to the\n     future dinners in James's Court; and your eclat in France, as\n     the forerunner of much variety of chosen and excellent wines\n     from every quarter of that great kingdom. Meantime, though I\n     like to lounge at firesides in practice, I have not, in\n     speculation, that opinion you mention. I know nothing that is\n     necessary to happiness but cordiality and the talent of\n     finding diversion in all places. I remember, somewhere, a\n     man's being told that he was too nice, because he could not\n     dine on a ragout, and must have cold mutton. But I should not,\n     perhaps, contradict you so flatly, nor rub so hard,\n     considering how tender your sensibility will be grown after so\n     many lenient applications.[176:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. ROBERTSON.\n\n     _Paris, Dec. 1, 1763._\n\n     DEAR ROBERTSON,--Among other agreeable circumstances which\n     attend me at Paris, I must mention that of having a lady for a\n     translator; a woman of merit, the widow of an advocate.[176:2]\n     She was, before, very poor, and known but to few; but this\n     work has got her reputation, and procured her a pension from\n     the court, which sets her at ease. She tells me that she has\n     got a habit of industry; and would continue, if I could point\n     out to her any other English book she could undertake, without\n     running the risk of being anticipated by any other translator.\n     Your \"History of Scotland\" is translated, and is in the press;\n     but I recommended to her your \"History of Charles V.,\" and\n     promised to write to you, in order to know when it would be\n     printed, and to desire you to send over the sheets from\n     London, as they come from the press; I should put them into\n     her hands, and she would, by that means, have the start of\n     every other translator.[177:1] My two volumes last published,\n     are, at present, in the press. She has a very easy natural\n     style: sometimes she mistakes the sense; but I now correct her\n     manuscript, and should be happy to render you the same\n     service, if my leisure permit me, as I hope it will.\n\n     Do you ask me about my course of life? I can only say, that I\n     eat nothing but ambrosia, drink nothing but nectar, breathe\n     nothing but incense, and tread on nothing but flowers! Every\n     man I meet, and, still more, every lady, would think they were\n     wanting in the most indispensable duty, if they did not make a\n     long and elaborate harangue in my praise. What happened last\n     week, when I had the honour of being presented to the D----n's\n     children, at Versailles, is one of the most curious scenes I\n     have yet passed through. The Duc de B., the eldest, a boy of\n     ten years old, stepped forth, and told me how many friends\n     and admirers I had in this country, and that he reckoned\n     himself in the number, from the pleasure he had received from\n     the reading of many passages in my works. When he had\n     finished, his brother, the Count de P., who is two years\n     younger, began his discourse, and informed me, that I had been\n     long and impatiently expected in France; and that he himself\n     expected soon to have great satisfaction from the reading of\n     my fine History. But what is more curious; when I was carried\n     thence to the Count D'A., who is but four years of age, I\n     heard him mumble something which, though he had forgot in the\n     way, I conjectured, from some scattered words, to have been\n     also a panegyric dictated to him. Nothing could more surprise\n     my friends, the Parisian philosophers, than this incident.\n\n            *       *       *       *       *\n\n     It is conjectured that this honour was paid me by express\n     order from the D.[178:1], who, indeed, is not on any occasion\n     sparing in my praise.\n\n     All this attention and panegyric was at first oppressive to\n     me; but now it sits more easy. I have recovered, in some\n     measure, the use of the language, and am falling into\n     friendships which are very agreeable; much more so than silly,\n     distant admiration. They now begin to banter me, and tell\n     droll stories of me, which they have either observed\n     themselves, or have heard from others; so that you see I am\n     beginning to be at home. It is probable that this place will\n     be long my home. I feel little inclination to the factious\n     barbarians of London; and have ever desired to remain in the\n     place where I am planted. How much more so, when it is the\n     best place in the world? I could here live in great abundance\n     on the half of my income; for there is no place where money is\n     so little requisite to a man who is distinguished, either by\n     his birth or by personal qualities. I could run out, you see,\n     in a panegyric on the people; but you would suspect that this\n     was a mutual convention between us. However, I cannot forbear\n     observing on what a different footing learning and the learned\n     are here, from what they are among the factious barbarians\n     abovementioned.\n\n     I have here met with a prodigious historical curiosity, the\n     \"Memoirs of King James II.\" in fourteen volumes, all wrote\n     with his own hand, and kept in the Scots College. I have\n     looked into it; and have made great discoveries.[179:1] It\n     will be all communicated to me: and I have had an offer of\n     access to the Secretary of State's office, if I want to know\n     the despatches of any French minister that resided in London.\n     But these matters are much out of my head. I beg of you to\n     visit Lord Marischal, who will be pleased with your company. I\n     have little paper remaining, and less time; and therefore\n     conclude abruptly by assuring you that I am, dear Doctor,\n     yours sincerely, &c.[179:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n     _Paris, 1st Dec. 1763._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I have here fallen upon a great treasure, as I\n     believe, of historical knowledge; which is, fifteen volumes of\n     the late King James's Memoirs, wrote all with his own hand. I\n     shall be able to make use of them for improving and\n     correcting many passages of my History, in case of a new\n     edition; which, however, I fancy will not be soon. I am glad\n     to see public affairs likely to settle in favour of\n     government. Nobody ever led a more dissipated life than I do\n     here. Please send to Mr. Stewart, in Buckingham Street, six\n     copies of the new edition of my History; and two of the last\n     large paper quarto, all in sheets. Make them carefully up in a\n     parcel: he is to send them to me. I shall be your debtor for\n     the quartos. I should be glad to hear from you. My direction\n     is at the English ambassador's. Excuse my hurry. I beg my\n     compliments to Mrs. Millar. I am, very sincerely, dear sir,\n     your most humble servant.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.[180:1]\n\n     DEAR DOCTOR,--I write every thing in haste, except on public\n     affairs, which are the only serious matters I have leisure to\n     mind: so, excuse this letter, if it prove a scrawl. I approve\n     very much of your plan for ascertaining the authenticity of\n     Ossian's Poems; and I doubt not of your success. I do not\n     think you can publish all the letters you receive, which\n     nobody would read: a summary of them will do better; but\n     endeavour to be as particular as you can with regard to names\n     of persons and passages: for the force of your argument will\n     be there. I have met here with enthusiasts for Ossian's\n     poetry; but there are also several critics who are of my\n     opinion, that, though great beauties, they are also great\n     curiosities, and that they are a little tedious by reason of\n     their uniformity.\n\n     You desire to know the particulars of my reception here, and\n     my course of life. I own I write little upon this subject, and\n     always with some degree of secrecy, both because I wish to\n     have such intelligence conveyed by others rather than myself,\n     and because I am somewhat indifferent whether it be conveyed\n     or not. However, I wrote some circumstances to Robertson,\n     which I allow him to communicate to you. I suppose this, like\n     all other violent modes, will pass; and, in the meanwhile, the\n     hurry and dissipation attending it, gives me more pain than\n     pleasure. Never was there a stronger instance of the vanity\n     of human wishes. But this embarrassment proceeds chiefly from\n     my own fault, and from a vain anxiety to give no offence nor\n     displeasure to any body.\n\n     The men of letters here are really very agreeable: all of them\n     men of the world, living in entire, or almost entire harmony\n     among themselves, and quite irreproachable in their morals. It\n     would give you, and Jardine, and Robertson, great satisfaction\n     to find that there is not a single deist among them. Those\n     whose persons and conversation I like best, are D'Alembert,\n     Buffon, Marmontel, Diderot, Duclos, Helvetius, and old\n     President Henault, who, though now decaying, retains that\n     amiable character which made him once the delight of all\n     France. He had always the best cook and the best company in\n     Paris. But though I know you will laugh at me, as they do, I\n     must confess that I am more carried away from their society\n     than I should be, by the great ladies, with whom I became\n     acquainted at my first introduction to court, and whom my\n     connexions with the English ambassador will not allow me\n     entirely to drop.\n\n     Nothing can be more easy and agreeable than my situation with\n     Lord Hertford, who is a man of strict honour, an amiable\n     temper, a good understanding, and an elegant person and\n     behaviour. He takes very much in this place. He has got an\n     opinion very well founded, that the more acquaintance I make,\n     and the greater intimacies I form with the French, the more I\n     am enabled to be of service to him: so he exacts no attendance\n     from me; and is well pleased to find me carried into all kinds\n     of company. He tells me, that if he did not meet me by chance\n     in third places, we should go out of acquaintance. Thus you\n     see my present plan of life sketched out; but it is unsuitable\n     to my age and temper; and I am determined to retrench and to\n     abandon the fine folks, before they abandon me.[181:1]\n\nDuring his absence, Hume's house was let to Blair. In this letter he\ngives pretty minute instructions as to the most advantageous\ndistribution of the occupation of the apartments, which incidentally\nillustrate his own domestic habits. Thus--\n\n     Never put a fire in the south room with the red paper. It is\n     so warm of itself, that all last winter, which was a very\n     severe one, I lay with a single blanket; and frequently upon\n     coming in at midnight, starving with cold, have sat down and\n     read for an hour, as if I had had a stove in the room.\n\n     You think it inconvenient to take the house only for an\n     interval. Alas! my prospects of being home are very distant\n     and very uncertain: I am afraid I might say worse. My\n     connexions with Lord Hertford must probably last for some\n     years; after which, I shall be rich enough to live in Paris or\n     London as I please, or to retire to a provincial town in\n     France, or to Bath, or God knows whither. I like to keep my\n     house in case of accidents, and therefore neither choose to\n     sell it, nor let a lease of it; but there is no great chance\n     of your being disturbed in it for some time. I am, &c.\n\n     P.S.--Pray, do you not all pay court to the Lord\n     Marischal?[182:1] Do you imagine that you ever saw so\n     excellent a man? or that you have any chance for seeing his\n     equal if he were gone?\n\n\nHUME _to_ COLONEL EDMONDSTOUNE.\n\n     _Paris, 9th January, 1764._\n\n     DEAR EDMONDSTOUNE,--I was fully settled, and, as I thought,\n     for life at Edinburgh; had bought a very pretty little house,\n     which I had repaired and furnished to my fancy; had purchased\n     a chaise, and fixed every thing about my family on such a\n     footing as to continue there the rest of my days. But while I\n     was in this situation, which was far from disagreeable, I\n     received a letter from my friend Mr. Wood, wrote by directions\n     from Lord Hertford, by which I was invited to attend his\n     lordship in his embassy to Paris, and to perform the\n     functions of secretary to the embassy. I had never seen Lord\n     Hertford, though I had heard an excellent character of him;\n     but as I thought myself too old to enter on a new scene of\n     life, and found myself settled to my mind, I at first refused\n     the invitation; but on its being urged more home to me, I came\n     up to London, where I found that Mr. Bunbury, a gentleman of\n     considerable fortune, and married to the Duke of Richmond's\n     sister, had already been appointed secretary; but was so\n     disagreeable to the ambassador, that he was resolved never to\n     see, or do business with his secretary, and therefore desired\n     I should attend him, in order to perform the functions. He\n     also thought himself certain that Bunbury could not possibly\n     continue in the situation; but in order to make me more\n     secure, he procured me a pension of \u00a3200 a-year for life, from\n     the king. As I became every day better acquainted with my\n     lord, I liked him every day better; and I do not believe there\n     is in the world a man of more probity or humanity, endowed\n     with a very good understanding, and adorned with very elegant\n     manners and behaviour. My lady is also a person of great\n     merit; and nothing can be more amiable than my Lord Beauchamp:\n     so that you see I have every domestic means of happiness; and\n     the good reception I have met with at Paris, particularly, as\n     you observe, by the ladies, renders my present course of life,\n     though somewhat too hurried and dissipated, as amusing as I\n     could wish. My lord appears zealously my friend, and has urged\n     the matter so home, in my favour, to the king and the\n     ministers, that he has obtained a promise, that I shall soon\n     have the appointments and commission of secretary to the\n     embassy, which is about \u00a31000 a-year, added to what I already\n     possess: so that you see, dear Edmondstoune, I am in the high\n     road to riches; and as there is no instance of a secretary to\n     the embassy at Paris, that has not been advanced to the most\n     considerable employments, I am at the same time in the high\n     road to dignities. You must know, that Lord Hertford has so\n     high a character for piety, that his taking me by the hand is\n     a kind of regeneration to me, and all past offences are now\n     wiped off. But all these views are trifling to one of my age\n     and temper. The material point is (if any thing can be\n     material,) that I keep my health and humour as entire as I\n     possessed them at five and-twenty. I am sorry to hear, dear\n     Edmondstoune, that the case is not the same with you, at least\n     with regard to the former; and perhaps somewhat with regard to\n     the latter. Your situation is no doubt tiresome, and somewhat\n     disagreeable. What is the fancy of sending one of the first\n     noblemen in the kingdom to pass years in a country\n     town?[184:1] why do you not go forward to Italy, or back to\n     Paris? When I arrived here, all M. Voltaire's friends told me\n     of the regard he always expressed for me; that some advances\n     on my part were due to his age, and would be well taken. I\n     accordingly wrote him a letter, in which I expressed the\n     esteem which are[184:2] undoubtedly due to his talents; and\n     among other things I said, that if I were not confined to\n     Paris by public business, I should have a great ambition to\n     pay him a visit at Geneva. This is the foundation of the\n     report you mention; but I am absolutely confined to Paris and\n     the court, and cannot on any account leave them so much as for\n     three days.\n\nSome advice, given at this time by Hume to a young man who, though in\nholy orders, had a tendency to scepticism, has already been before the\npublic, and has been severely criticised. His view, that there are\ncertain secrets which may be circulated among the learned in published\nbooks, without any risk that the vulgar, to whom a knowledge of them\nwould be dangerous, should ever become acquainted with them, is one of\nthe most incomprehensible features of his character.[184:3] The\napplication of his own ethical system to the circumstances, might have\ntaught him that no good thing can connect itself with a lie; and that,\nindependently of all more sacred considerations, nothing can be more\ndesolating to human morality, than the discovery, that those who are\nprofessing to teach solemn truths, do not themselves believe in the\nopinions they promulgate. If, on the other hand, his counsel be a\nlegitimate deduction from his ethical principles, it is right that the\nworld should possess this test of their nature.\n\nThe following is the correspondence on both sides. For obvious reasons\nthe name of the young clergyman is suppressed. It may be observed, that\nHume's letter has been made a ground for attributing infidel opinions to\nthe ministers of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. But justice\nrequires it to be kept in view, that it appears from the immediately\nensuing letter, that this individual belonged to the Church of\n_England_.\n\n\nCOLONEL EDMONDSTOUNE _to_ HUME.\n\n     _Geneva, 26th March._\n\n     MY DEAR SECRETARY,--I have delayed for some time answering\n     your letter, in expectation of being able to tell you what is\n     to become of me; whether I am to return home, or remain abroad\n     some years longer. Though I believe the latter will happen, I\n     cannot speak of it with certainty, as I left it to Lord B. to\n     determine for me; and he has not, as yet, given me any answer.\n     I write to you at present to consult you about an acquaintance\n     of yours, Mr. V----, who is here with Lord Abingdon, and who\n     thinks of returning to England, May next. You'll be so good as\n     to determine for him what character he is to assume on his\n     arrival, whether that of a clergyman or a layman. I suppose\n     you know he is in orders, but he is very very low church. To\n     speak plain language, I believe him to be a sort of disciple\n     of your own; and, though he does not carry matters quite so\n     far as you, yet you have given him notions not very consistent\n     with his priestly character; so that you see you are somewhat\n     bound to give him your best advice. V---- is a very\n     good-natured, sensible, honest follow, without any fortune. My\n     young man has a great liking for him, and has all the\n     inclination in the world to serve him; but he neither knows\n     what to ask for him, and is not sure if his father would ask\n     any thing at present. We are as much in the dark as to what\n     passes in England, as if we lived in Siberia. As you know\n     probably something of the matter, without entering into\n     politics, you may give us some hints to direct us in what\n     manner to act, and whether we may not be of more use to our\n     friend in acting as auxiliaries than principals. You'll\n     determine whether a man of probity can accept of a living, a\n     bishoprick, that does not believe all the Thirty-nine\n     Articles; for you only can fix him: he has been hitherto\n     irresolute. If [I am not] mistaken, he seems rather inclined\n     not to be a clergyman; but you know as well, and better than I\n     do, how difficult it is to get any tolerable civil employment.\n     I mean any patent place; while as soon as you can\n     conveniently, and if you should determine for his being a\n     clergyman, throw in something consolatory on his being obliged\n     to renounce white stockings the rest of his life. I wait with\n     impatience to hear of your being made secretary to the\n     embassy. Shall a descendant of Gospatrick, Earl of\n     Northumberland, remain in the character of under-secretary? I\n     hope not; though I am afraid our cursed politics at home will\n     occasion some delay. Lord Mount Stuart offers his compliments\n     to you, and thanks you for the pleasure your History gave him.\n     You scrub, do you think we have so little taste or curiosity\n     as not to have your History complete? We have two copies, one\n     to lend, and another for our own use; they were sent us\n     immediately on the publication; it is almost the only book he\n     takes pleasure in reading. He has read it once, and has got\n     through four volumes the second time. By the bye, what is this\n     M{c}Caulay history? I saw in the newspapers an extract of a\n     preface that seemed to me to be the rhapsody of a crazy head.\n     I hear it is in opposition to your History. We have her sister\n     here, who seems to be a good sort of woman, a Mrs. Buckingham.\n     I wish your time would allow you to come here: you have a\n     great many friends; among the rest a Madame Tronchin, wife to\n     the procureur-general, a virtuous, generous, charitable, good\n     woman. She has learned English since I have been here, and can\n     read your History with as much ease as her own language. Her\n     husband is a man of merit, a man of genius; but knows you only\n     by the translations of your works. Mallet, Professor\n     Bertrand, and many others, even ministers, are your friends;\n     even the Christians acknowledge your merit as an historian.\n     The Christians here are the friends of Rousseau: those that\n     are not, have been his persecutors; but it was not for his\n     religious principles. They were afraid of his breeding\n     disturbance in their state. I wish you could do something for\n     Rousseau without his knowing it. Print his works in England\n     for his benefit. You did not, I suppose, receive my letter on\n     that subject. I never received that from you, which you say\n     you enclosed to Sir Harry Erskine. Adieu, yours,\n\n                                                J. E.[187:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ COLONEL EDMONDSTOUNE.\n\n\"DEAR EDMONDSTOUNE,--I was just projecting to write a long letter to\nyou, and another to Mr. V----, when your last obliging epistle came to\nhand. I immediately put pen to paper, to assure you that the report is\nentirely groundless, and that I have not lost, nor ever could have lost,\na shilling by Fairholm's bankruptcy. Poor John Adams is very deeply\nengaged with him; but I had a letter last post from Dr. Blair, which\ninforms me that he will yet be able to save fifteen or sixteen thousand\npounds. I am glad to give you also this piece of intelligence.\n\n\"What! do you know that Lord Bute is again all-powerful, or rather that\nhe was always so, but is now acknowledged for such by all the world? Let\nthis be a new motive for Mr. V---- to adhere to the ecclesiastical\nprofession, in which he may have so good a patron; for civil employments\nfor men of letters can scarcely be found: all is occupied by men of\nbusiness, or by parliamentary interest.[187:2]\n\n\"It is putting too great a respect on the vulgar, and on their\nsuperstitions, to pique one's self on sincerity with regard to them.\nDid ever one make it a point of honour to speak truth to children or\nmadmen. If the thing were worthy being treated gravely, I should tell\nhim, that the Pythian oracle, with the approbation of Xenophon, advised\nevery one to worship the gods--\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03c9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03b5\u03c9\u03c2. I wish it were still in my\npower to be a hypocrite in this particular. The common duties of society\nusually require it; and the ecclesiastical profession only adds a little\nmore to an innocent dissimulation, or rather simulation, without which\nit is impossible to pass through the world. Am I a liar, because I order\nmy servant to say, I am not at home, when I do not desire to see\ncompany?\n\n\"How could you imagine that I was under-secretary to Lord Hertford, or\nthat I could ever be prevailed on to accept of such a character? I am\nnot secretary at all, but do the business of secretary to the embassy\nwithout any character. Bunbury has the commission and appointments: a\nyoung man of three or four and twenty, somewhat vain and ignorant, whom\nLord Hertford refused to accept of, as thinking he would be of no use to\nhim. The king gave me a pension of \u00a3200 a-year for life, to engage me to\nattend his lordship. My lord is very impatient to have me secretary to\nthe embassy; and writes very earnest letters to that purpose to the\nministers, and, among the rest, to Lord Bute. He engaged me, somewhat\nagainst my will, to write also to such of my friends as had credit with\nthat favourite, Oswald, Elliot, Sir Harry, and John Hume. The king has\npromised that my Lord Hertford shall soon be satisfied in this\nparticular; and yet, I know not how, I suspect that some obstacle will\nyet interpose; though nothing can be more scandalous, than for a man to\nenjoy the revenue of an office, which is exercised by another. Mr.\nBunbury has great interest, being married to a sister of the Duke of\nRichmond, and sister-in-law to Lord Holland. The appointments of this\noffice are above \u00a31000 a-year, and the expense attending it nothing; and\nit leads to all the great employments. I wait the issue with patience,\nand even with indifference. At my years, and with my fortune, a man with\na little common sense, without philosophy, may be indifferent about what\nhappens. I am, dear Edmondstoune, yours sincerely.\"[189:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Paris, 27th March, 1764._\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--I believe I need not inform you how little I have been\ninclined to solicit the great, or even my own friends, for any thing\nthat regards my own fortune. I may venture to say, that, hitherto, I\nhave never once made any application of this nature: and you may wonder\nthat now, at my years, when the greatest part of life is past, and I may\nesteem myself, in other respects, pretty much at my ease, I should\nsubmit to prefer requests which I declined at an age when ambition ought\nnaturally to be stronger, and when my circumstances much more powerfully\ncalled for assistance. But the step I take at present is at Lord\nHertford's desire; who, being determined to make it a point that I\nshould have the credentials and appointments of secretary to the\nembassy, expressed his wish that I should apply to all my own friends on\nthe same subject. My obligations to him are so great, that, even were I\nmore reluctant, I could not have declined compliance; and surely I can\nhave but small reluctance to apply to you, one of my best friends, with\nwhom I have long lived in a course of intimacy and good correspondence.\n\n\"I remember that the last time I had the pleasure of seeing you, you\nsaid, that I no doubt wondered how it happened, that while the prime\nminister and favourite, who inclined to be a M\u00e6cenas, and who bore me no\nill will, was surrounded by all my most particular friends, I should\nnever have experienced any good effects from their credit. I own that I\nnever was surprised; not from any diffidence in them, but from some\nobvious objections. Now all these objections are removed by Lord\nHertford's friendship. Nobody, henceforth, need be afraid to patronize\nme, either as a Scotchman or a Deist. This circumstance encourages me in\nmy present application to my friends.\n\n\"Surely it is impossible to give them a juster and more plausible cause\nto support than mine. I do the functions here of secretary to the\nembassy: Is it not scandalous that another should live in London and\ndraw the salary?\n\n\"Is it for the credit of government, that such abuses should appear to\nforeign nations? Is it good policy to send an ambassador to the most\nimportant of all foreign employments, and yet declare that he has so\nlittle credit at home, as not to have the choice of his own secretary.\n\n\"I shall not say that the partiality I meet with here will make these\nabuses more remarked, than if another person, less known, were\nconcerned. But surely the government puts me in a situation which ought\nto render me entirely useless to my Lord Hertford, by refusing me a\ncharacter which should have appeared necessary, in order to gain me\nadmittance into company.\n\n\"Allow me to inform you of another circumstance, which renders my\nprevailing on this point the most material step to my future fortune.\nWhen I came to London, and found, contrary to Lord Hertford's opinion,\nthat Mr. Bunbury was likely to keep his appointments, I declined going\nabroad, unless something certain was fixed in my favour. My lord said,\nthat he would obtain me, from the public, a settlement of \u00a3200 a-year\nfor life, or would give me as much from his private fortune. He applied\nto the king, who agreed; to Mr. Grenville, who also consented, two days\nbefore we came off. My pension was fixed on the most precarious footing\nof all pensions, by a simple order from the treasury to their secretary.\nYet Mr. Grenville told my lord, that this was equivalent to a settlement\nfor life. My lord believes so still; though I said nothing, perhaps from\na foolish delicacy, as the time of our departure so near approached, and\nit was difficult then to correct the blunder. Were I to return to\nEngland, on my present footing, I should regard this pension as\nabsolutely insignificant--not worth two years' purchase; and never could\nform any plan on the supposition of its duration. But had I obtained the\nrank and character of secretary to the embassy, there are certain\npensions annexed, by custom, to certain employments; and I believe I\nmight more depend upon it.\n\n\"You see how materially my interests are concerned. I have wrote to\nothers of my friends, Sir Harry, Oswald, and John Hume, in the same\nstyle, that an effort may be made, all at once, in my favour. I own\nthat, notwithstanding all the plausible appearances, my hopes of success\nare but moderate. I have been accustomed to meet with nothing but\ninsults and indignities from my native country; but if it continue so,\n'ingrata patria, ne ossa quidem habebis.' I am, my dear sir, yours\nsincerely.\"[192:1]\n\n\nWhen the fame of Hume's reception in Paris had reached Scotland, some of\nhis countrymen, who had not previously been very solicitous to court his\nnotice, discovered that an introduction to him would be a valuable\nacquisition. The correspondence shows that the expectations of such\npersons were very large, and that if their names connected them with the\naristocracy of Scotland, it could not fail that they should be at once\nput at their ease in the midst of the brilliant circle in which Hume was\nmoving. The following may be taken as an instance of these attempts. On\nthe 6th April, 1764, Blair writes:\n\n\"This letter will be presented to you by Colonel L----, brother to the\nEarl of L----; who, going on a trip to Paris, is very ambitious of being\nintroduced to your acquaintance. You will find him a very honourable,\ngood-natured, well-behaved young man, of an amiable disposition and\ncharacter. As I have been much connected with the L---- family, who were\nmy first patrons in the ecclesiastical way, I was very glad to have it\nin my power to do them this favour at their desire; and will reckon\nmyself much obliged to you for any civilities you show the\nColonel.\"[192:2]\n\nBlair was not the sole medium through whom this gentleman was\nrecommended. Wallace writes, on 3d April, with all due ceremony: \"The\noccasion of my writing at present this short letter, is a desire from\nthe friends of the family of L---- here, asking me to write you by this\nnight's post, and acquaint you that the Honourable Alexander L----,\nEsquire, son to the late Earl of L----, lieutenant-colonel of Colonel\nCarey's regiment of foot, is going to Paris, and will probably be in it\nbefore this reaches you, and wishes you may be acquainted, before he\ncomes, who he is.\" Taking the effect of these imposing denominations for\ngranted, Mr. Wallace continues:--\"I dare say you will introduce him to\nthe good company where you are, and will be ready to put him on the best\nmethods of enjoying and improving himself at Paris.\"\n\nIn Hume's answer to this application, we may trace some desire to\nreprove any notion that he was a person so insignificant as to feel\nhighly honoured by an acquaintance with an Honourable, and bound as a\nmatter of simple etiquette to receive his proffers with grateful\neagerness.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_Paris, 26th April, 1764._\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--Before I was favoured with yours, I had seen Colonel\nL----, who waited on me, as is usual with the British who come to Paris.\nI returned his visit, and introduced him to the ambassador, who asked\nhim to dinner among seven or eight of his countrymen. You will be\nsurprised, perhaps, when I tell you that this is the utmost of the\ncivilities which it will ever be possible for me to show Mr. L----. For\nas to the ridiculous idea of foreigners, that I might introduce him to\nthe good company of Paris, nothing can be more impracticable. I know not\none family to which I could present such a man, silent, grave, awkward,\nspeaking ill the language, not distinguished by any exploit, or science,\nor art. Were the French houses open to such people as these, they would\nbe very little agreeable, considering the immense concourse of strangers\nto this place. But it is quite otherwise. The people are more scrupulous\nof receiving persons unknown, and I should soon lose all credit with\nthem, were I to prostitute my recommendations of this nature. Your\nrecommendations have great weight with me; but if I am not mistaken, I\nhave often seen Colonel L----'s face in Edinburgh. It is a little late\nhe has bethought himself of being _ambitious_, as you say, of being\nintroduced to my acquaintance. The only favour I can do him, is to\nadvise him, as soon as he has seen Paris, to go to a provincial town\nwhere people are less shy of admitting new acquaintance, and are less\ndelicate judges of behaviour. It is almost out of the memory of man,\nthat any British has been here on a footing of familiarity with the good\ncompany except my Lord Holderness, who had a good stock of acquaintance\nto begin with, speaks the language like a native, has very insinuating\nmanners, was presented under the character of an old secretary of state,\nand spent, as is said, \u00a310,000 this winter, to obtain that object of\nvanity. Him, indeed, I met every where in the best company: but as to\nothers--lords, earls, marquises, and dukes--they went about to plays,\noperas, and ----. Nobody minded them; they kept company with one\nanother; and it would have been ridiculous to think of bringing them\ninto French company. I may add General Clarke, who was liked and\nesteemed by several people of merit, which he owed to his great\ncleverness and ingenuity, and to his surprising courage in introducing\nhimself. I enter into this detail with you, that people with whom I am\nmuch more connected than with the L. family, may not, at any time, be\nsurprised that I am able to do so little for them in this way, and may\nnot form false ideas of the hospitality of the French nation. But I\nfancy there will not arrive at Paris many people who will have great\nclaims of past civilities to plead with me.\n\n\"What you tell me of John Adams gives me great consolation. I had heard\nof the alarming news of his connexions with Fairholm, and things were\nput in the worst light. I was just ready to write to Ferguson to get\nfrom him a just state of the case; but if he has \u00a315,000, or \u00a318,000\nremaining, his industry will recover him, and he may go on in his usual\nway of beneficence and generosity. That family is one of the few to\nwhose civilities I have been much beholden, and I retain a lively sense\nof them.\n\n\"Our friend, I mean your friend, Lord Kames, had much provoked Voltaire,\nwho never forgives, and never thinks any enemy below his notice. He has\naccordingly sent to the _Gazette Literaire_, an article with regard to\nthe 'Elements of Criticism,' which turns that book extremely into\nridicule, with a good deal of wit.[195:1] I tried to have it suppressed\nbefore it was printed; but the authors of that Gazette told me, that\nthey durst neither suppress nor alter any thing that came from Voltaire.\nI suppose his lordship holds that satiric wit as cheap, as he does all\nthe rest of the human race; and will not be in the least mortified by\nhis censure.\n\n\"The taste for literature is neither decayed nor depraved here, as with\nthe barbarians who inhabit the banks of the Thames. Some people, who had\nread your dissertation, affirmed to me, that it was the finest piece of\ncriticism, incomparably, to be found in the English tongue. I know not\nif you have read the 'Poetique de Marmontel:' it is worth your perusal.\nVoltaire has published an edition of Corneille, and his notes and\ndissertations contain many fine things. There is a book published in\nHolland, in two volumes octavo, called 'De la Nature.' It is prolix, and\nin many parts whimsical; but contains some of the boldest reasonings to\nbe found in print. There is a miscellany in three volumes duodecimo\npublished here, where there are many good pieces. It is perhaps more\namusing to me, than it will be to you; as there is scarce a poem in it\nwhose author I do not know, or the person to whom it is addressed.\n\n\"It is very silly to form distant schemes: but I am fixed at Paris for\nsome time, and, to judge by probabilities, for life. My income would\nsuffice me to live at ease, and a younger brother of the best family\nwould not think himself ill provided for, if he had such a revenue.\nLodgings, a coach, and clothes, are all I need; and though I have\nentered late into this scene of life, I am almost as much at my ease, as\nif I had been educated in it from my infancy. However, sickness, or the\ninfirmities of age, which I may soon expect, may probably make me think\nof a retreat: But whether that will be better found in Paris or\nelsewhere, time must determine. I forbid myself all resolution on that\nhead.\n\n\"I shall indulge myself in a folly, which I hope you will make a\ndiscreet use of: it is the telling you of an incident which may appear\nsilly, but which gave more pleasure than perhaps any other I had ever\nmet with. I was carried, about six weeks ago, to a masquerade, by Lord\nHertford. We went both unmasked; and we had scarce entered the room when\na lady, in mask, came up to me and exclaimed:--'_Ha! Monsr. Hume, vous\nfaites bien de venir ici a visage d\u00e9couvert. Que vous serez bien combl\u00e9\nce soir d'honn\u00eatet\u00e9s et de politesses! Vous verrez, par des preuves peu\n\u00e9quivoques, jusqu'\u00e0 quel point vous \u00eates ch\u00e9ri en France._' This\nprologue was not a little encouraging; but, as we advanced through the\nhall, it is difficult to imagine the caresses, civilities, and\npanegyrics which poured on me from all sides. You would have thought\nthat every one had taken advantage of his mask to speak his mind with\nimpunity. I could observe that the ladies were rather the most liberal\non this occasion. But what gave me chief pleasure was to find that most\nof the eulogiums bestowed on me, turned on my personal character, my\nna\u00efv\u00e9te, and simplicity of manners, the candour and mildness of my\ndisposition, &c.--_Non sunt mihi cornea fibra._ I shall not deny that my\nheart felt a sensible satisfaction from this general effusion of good\nwill; and Lord Hertford was much pleased, and even surprised, though he\nsaid, he thought that he had known before upon what footing I stood with\nthe good company of Paris.\n\n\"I allow you to communicate this story to Dr. Jardine. I hope it will\nrefute all his idle notions that I have no turn for gallantry and\ngaiety,[197:1]--that I am on a bad footing with the ladies,--that my\nturn of conversation can never be agreeable to them,--that I never can\nhave any pretensions to their favours, &c. &c. &c. A man in vogue will\nalways have something to pretend to with the fair sex.\n\n\"Do you not think it happy for me to retain such a taste for idleness\nand follies at my years; especially since I have come into a country\nwhere the follies are so much more agreeable than elsewhere? I could\nonly wish that some of my old friends were to participate with me of\nthese amusements; though I know none of them that can, on occasion, be\nso thoroughly idle as myself.\n\n\"I am persuaded you will find great comfort in my house, which, in every\nrespect, is agreeable. I beg of you and Mrs. Blair, (to whom I desire my\ncompliments,) that you would sometimes pay some attention to my sister,\nwho is the person that suffers most by my absence. I am, dear sir, yours\nvery sincerely.\"[198:1]\n\n\nBlair writes, on the 15th November, assuring Hume that he is fully\nconscious of the unreasonableness of expecting him to introduce those\nwho are accredited to him, to the good company of Paris. He says, that\nhis own friend expressed himself as \"very well satisfied\" with Hume's\nbehaviour towards him; and perhaps he had a better reception than the\nletter to Blair might seem to indicate. At all events, Blair seems not\nto have been discouraged, for he immediately introduced the son of the\nprovost of Glasgow, travelling for his health, and Arthur Masson, a\nteacher of languages, recommending them to such good offices as Hume\nfinds himself at liberty to bestow on them. It is clear, in short, that\nhe had not been successful in frightening his friends from requesting\nhim to perform offices of kindness and courtesy, or from trusting that\nhe would perform them. The following passage, in Blair's letter, is\nevidence of the popularity of the Literary classes of the university of\nEdinburgh, during the middle of last century.\n\n     My class was, last season, in such reputation that I gave a\n     second course in summer, at the desire of a body of the\n     medical students. I am just about to open for this\n     winter--with what success I cannot tell; for I tremble for it\n     every season. Against next season I intend to print a synopsis\n     of my lectures. In the medical school, a revolution is at a\n     crisis, which is important to us. Dr. Rutherford wants to\n     demit in favour of Frank Hume; a measure pushed by Lord\n     Milton, Baron Mure, and John Home; the coalition of three\n     formidable powers: but which we college people dread as boding\n     us no good; and are much more inclined to another scheme, of\n     placing Cullen in Rutherford's chair, and bringing Dr. Black,\n     from Glasgow, into the chair of chemistry, which would greatly\n     promote the reputation of our college, and which has all the\n     popularity on its side at present.\n\n     How unimportant these things seem to you now? I hear much,\n     from time to time, of your continuing, nay, increasing\n     celebrity and fame. You are just the high mode, they tell\n     us--the very delice of all the good company at Paris.\n\nIn a letter to Millar, chiefly in reference to some English law books,\nwhich Hume had engaged to obtain for a French lawyer, he recurs to the\nMemoirs of King James. He seems to have indolently adopted the notion\nthat there were few chances of his having an opportunity of making\nadditions to his History of the Stuarts. He did live, however, to see\nmore than one new edition of it: but the references in them to the\ntreasure he had discovered at Paris, are extremely meagre. Another\nletter immediately follows, in which we find that his anticipations of\nnew editions are already outrun by the demands: and we find in his, as\nin many other cases, where permanent fame has been reached, that the\nexcitement of expectant authorship has declined long before its visions\nare realized; and that their fulfilment comes at last on minds sobered\ndown to indifference.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Paris, 18th March, 1764._\n\n\"I have lived such a life of dissipation as not to be able to think of\nany serious occupation. But I begin to tire of that course of life. I\nhave, however, run over King James's Memoirs, and have picked up some\ncurious passages, which it is needless to speak of till we have occasion\nfor a new edition, which I suppose is very distant.\"\n\n\n\"_Paris, 18th April, 1764._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--All the discoveries I made in King James's Memoirs, make\nagainst himself and his brother; and he is surely a good enough witness\non that side: but I believe him also a man of veracity, and I should\nhave put trust in any matter of fact that he told from his own\nknowledge. But this it is needless for us to talk any more about; since,\nI suppose, you have got copies enough of my History, already printed, to\nlast for your lifetime and mine. I shall certainly never think of adding\nanother line to it. I am too much your friend to think of it. . . . I\nbeg my sincere compliments to Mrs. Millar. I saw a few days ago Mrs.\nMallet, who seems to be going upon a strange project, of living alone,\nin a hermitage, in the midst of the forest of Fontainbleau. I pass my\ntime very agreeably here; though somewhat too much dissipated for one of\nmy years and humour.\"[201:1]\n\n\n\"_Paris, 23d April, 1764._\n\n\"I was very much surprised with what you tell me, that you had made a\nnew edition in quarto, of my History of the Tudors, and might probably\ndo the same with that of the Stuarts. I imagined that the octavo edition\nwould for a long time supersede the necessity of any quarto edition; and\nI wonder that of the ancient history did not first become requisite. You\nwere in the wrong to make any edition without informing me; because I\nleft in Scotland a copy very fully corrected, with a few alterations,\nwhich ought to have been followed. I shall write to my sister to send it\nyou, and I desire you may follow it in all future editions, if there be\nany such. I shall send you from here the alterations, which my perusal\nof King James's Memoirs has occasioned; they are not many, but some of\nthem, one in particular, is of importance. I have some scruple of\ninserting it, on your account, till the sale of the other editions be\npretty considerably advanced. You have not yet informed me how many you\nmay have upon hand. I suppose a very considerable number. Father Gordon\nof the Scots College, who has an exact memory of King James's Memoirs,\nwas so kind as to peruse anew my History during the Commonwealth, and\nthe reigns of the two brothers; and he marked all the passages of fact,\nwhere they differed from the Memoirs. They were surprisingly few; which\ngave me some satisfaction; because as I told you, I take that prince's\nauthority for a plain fact to be very good.\n\n\"I never see Mr. Wilkes here but at chapel, where he is a most regular,\nand devout, and edifying, and pious attendant; I take him to be entirely\nregenerate. He told me last Sunday, that you had given him a copy of my\nDissertations, with the two which I had suppressed;[202:1] and that he,\nforeseeing danger, from the sale of his library, had wrote to you to\nfind out that copy, and to tear out the two obnoxious dissertations.\nPray how stands that fact? It was imprudent in you to intrust him with\nthat copy: it was very prudent in him to use that precaution. Yet I do\nnot naturally suspect you of imprudence, nor him of prudence. I must\nhear a little farther before I pronounce.\"[202:2]\n\n\nMillar, writing on 5th June, gives the following account of his conduct\nas to the suppressed dissertations.\n\n     \"I take Mr. Wilkes to be the same man he was,--acting a part.\n     He has forgot the story of the _two_ dissertations. The fact\n     is, upon importunity, I lent to him the only copy I preserved,\n     and for years never could recollect he had it, till his books\n     came to be sold; upon this I went immediately to the gentleman\n     that directed the sale, told him the fact, and reclaimed the\n     two dissertations which were my property. Mr. Coates, who was\n     the person, immediately delivered me the volume; and so soon\n     as I got home, I tore them out and burnt them, that I might\n     not lend them to any for the future. Two days after, Mr.\n     Coates sent me a note for the volume, as Mr. Wilkes had\n     desired it should be sent to him to Paris; I returned the\n     volume, but told him the two dissertations, I had torn out of\n     the volume and burnt, being my property. This is the truth of\n     the matter, and nothing but the truth. It was certainly\n     imprudent for me to lend them to him.\"\n\nThe interest taken by Hume, as by all his contemporary\nfellow-countrymen, in the Douglas cause, has already been noticed. As\nthe inquiry which had taken place in France had not been long concluded,\nand was the object of discussion in the Court of Session, the adherents\nof the exiled royal house, and other Scottish families residing in\nParis, naturally took such a deep interest in the proceedings, as the\nfollowing letter explains.\n\n\nHUME _to_ BARON MURE.\n\n\"_Paris, 22d June, 1764._\n\n\"MY DEAR BARON,--A few days ago I dined with the Duchess of Perth, which\nwas the first time I had seen that venerable old lady, who is really a\nvery sensible woman. Part of our conversation was upon the Douglas\naffair.\n\n\"That lady, as well as all the company, as well as every body of common\nsense here, shows her entire conviction of that imposture; and there was\npresent a gentleman, an old friend of yours, a person of very good\nunderstanding and of undoubted honour, who laid open to us a scene of\nsuch deliberate dishonesty on the part of her grace of Douglas and her\npartisans, as was somewhat new and surprising. I suppose it is all known\nto poor Andrew,[203:1] whom I heartily love and pity. 'Tis certain, that\nthe imposture is as well known to her grace and her friends, as to any\nbody; and Hay, the Pretender's old secretary, the only man of common\nhonesty among them, confessed to this gentleman, that he has frequently\nbeen shocked with their practices, and has run away from them to keep\nout of the way of such infamy; though he had afterwards the weakness to\nyield to their solicitations. Carnegy knows the roguery as well as the\nrest; though I did not hear any thing of his scruples. Lord Beauchamp\nand Dr. Trail, our chaplain, passed four months last summer at Rheims,\nwhere this affair was much the subject of conversation. Except one\ncurate, they did not meet with a person, that was not convinced of the\nimposture. Mons. de Puysieuls,[204:1] whose country seat is in the\nneighbourhood, told me the same thing. Can any thing be more scandalous\nand more extraordinary than Frank Garden's behaviour?[204:2] Can any\nthing be more scandalous and more ordinary than Burnet's. I am afraid,\nthat notwithstanding the palpable justice of your cause, it is yet\nuncertain whether you will prevail.\n\n\"I continue to live here in a manner amusing enough, and which gives me\nno time to be tired of any scene. What between public business, the\ncompany of the learned and that of the great, especially of the ladies,\nI find all my time filled up, and have no time to open a book, except it\nbe some books newly published, which may be the subject of conversation.\nI am well enough pleased with this change of life, and a satiety of\nstudy had beforehand prepared the way for it: however, time runs off in\none course of life as well as another, and all things appear so much\nalike, that I am afraid of falling into total Stoicism and indifference\nabout every thing. For instance, I am every moment to be touching on the\ntime when I am to receive my credential letters of secretary to the\nembassy, with a thousand a-year of appointments. The king has promised\nit, all the members have promised it; Lord Hertford earnestly solicits\nit; the plainest common sense and justice seem to require [it]: yet have\nI been in this condition above six months; and I never trouble my head\nabout the matter, and have rather laid my account that there is to be no\nsuch thing.\n\n\"Please to express my most profound respects to Mrs. Mure, and my sense\nof the honour she did me. If I have leisure before the carrier goes off,\nI shall write her, and give her some account of my adventures; but I\nwould not show her so little mark of my attention as to write her only\nin a postscript. I am, dear Baron,\" &c.[205:1]\n\n\nThe correspondence with Madame de Boufflers was occasionally resumed,\nwhen Hume or she was absent from Paris. How well the philosopher could\nupon occasion accommodate himself to the taste of a French lady of the\ncourt, the following may suffice to show.\n\n\nHUME _to the_ COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.\n\n     _Compiegne, 6th July, 1764._\n\n     We live in a kind of solitude and retirement at Compiegne; at\n     least I do, who, having nothing but a few general acquaintance\n     at court, and not caring to make more, have given myself up\n     almost entirely to study and retreat. You cannot imagine,\n     madam, with what pleasure I return as it were to my natural\n     element, and what satisfaction I enjoy in reading, and musing,\n     and sauntering, amid the agreeable scenes that surround me.\n     But yes, you can easily enough imagine it; you have yourself\n     formed the same resolution; you are determined this summer to\n     tie the broken thread of your studies and literary amusements.\n     If you have been so happy as to execute your purpose, you are\n     almost in the same state as myself, and are at present\n     wandering along the banks of the same beautiful river, perhaps\n     with the same books in your hand, a Racine, I suppose, or a\n     Virgil, and despise all other pleasure and amusement. Alas!\n     why am I not so near you, that I could see you for half an\n     hour a day, and confer with you on these subjects?\n\n     But this ejaculation, methinks, does not lead me directly in\n     my purposed road, of forgetting you. It is a short digression,\n     which is soon over: and that I may return to the right path, I\n     shall give you some account of the state of the court; I mean\n     the exterior face of it; for I know no more; and if I did, I\n     am become so great a politician, that nothing should make me\n     reveal it. The king divides his evenings every week after the\n     following manner: one he gives to the public, when he sups at\n     the grand convent;[206:1] two he passes with his own family;\n     two in a society of men; and, to make himself amends, two he\n     passes with ladies, Madame de Grammont, usually, Madame de\n     Mirepoix, and Madame de Beauveau. This last princess passed\n     three evenings in this manner at the Hermitage immediately\n     before her departure, which was on Monday last. I think her\n     absence a great loss to that society; I am so presumptuous as\n     to think it one to myself. I found her as obliging and as\n     friendly as if she had never conversed with kings, and never\n     were a politician. I really doubt much of her talent for\n     politics. Pray what is your opinion? Is she qualified,\n     otherwise than by having great sense and an agreeable\n     conversation, to make progress in the road to favour? and are\n     not these qualities rather an encumbrance to her? I have met\n     her once or twice, with another lady, in whose favour I am\n     much prepossessed; she seems agreeable, well behaved,\n     judicious, a great reader; speaks as if she had sentiment, and\n     was superior to the vulgar train of amusements. I should have\n     been willing, notwithstanding my present love of solitude, to\n     have cultivated an acquaintance with her, but she did not say\n     any thing so obliging to me as to give me encouragement. Would\n     you conjecture that I mean the Countess of Tess\u00e9? I know not\n     whether you are acquainted with that lady. But I shall never\n     have done with this idle train of conversation; and therefore,\n     to cut things short, I kiss your hands most humbly and\n     devoutly, and bid you adieu.[207:1]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[158:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[159:1] Walpole says, \"The decorum and piety of Lord Hertford occasioned\nmen to wonder, when, in the room of Bunbury, he chose for his secretary\nthe celebrated freethinker, David Hume, totally unknown to him; but this\nwas the effect of recommendations from other Scots, who had much weight\nwith Lord and Lady Hertford.\" _Walpole's Memoirs of George III._ i. 264.\n\n[159:2] The change of ministry on which Lord Bute ceased to be minister,\nand negotiations were held with Pitt. Hume does not appear to have had\nany intercourse with Lord Bute while he was in office. In a letter to\nBlair, of 6th October, which will be found in the Appendix on the\n\"Ossian Controversy,\" he says, \"John Hume [Home] went to the country\nyesterday with Lord Bute. I was introduced the other day to that noble\nlord at his desire. I believe him a very good man; a better man than a\npolitician.\"\n\n[160:1] Copy R.S.E. The original is in possession of Colonel Mure.\n\n[163:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[164:1] Extract of a letter from Dr. Carlyle to the Rev. Thomas Hepburn,\ndated 5th September, 1763, in Thorpe's Catalogue of Autographs, for\n1833. It would be vain to inquire whither the original has now found its\nway.\n\n[165:1] In 1762, Blacklock had received a presentation, as minister to\nthe parish of Kirkcudbright. His induction was opposed on the ground of\nhis blindness; and a bitter litigation ensued in the church courts,\nwhile the parishioners, having taken up the matter as vital in a\nreligious view, persecuted him with all the savage and relentless\ncruelty of fanaticism. \"No liberal and cultivated mind,\" he says, in\nreference to this dispute, \"can entertain the least hesitation in\nconcluding that there is nothing, either in the nature of things, or\neven in the positive institutions of genuine religion, repugnant to the\nidea of a blind clergyman. But the novelty of the phenomenon, while it\nastonishes vulgar and contracted understandings, inflames their zeal to\nrage and madness.\"\n\n[167:1] Blair, writing to Hume on 29th September, says, \"Horace need not\nmake you at all blush in your present expedition. If I mistake him not\nvery much, he paid more court to M\u00e6cenas than ever you would have done\nto any great man. His _principibus placuisse viris_ was a favourite\npassion. Besides that, Horace understood human life too well to refuse\nsuch an opening into high amusement as is now before you: and most\ncertainly, as you well observe, the farther we advance in life, we need\nmore to have the scene varied.\"--(MS. R.S.E.)\n\n[167:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[167:3] As a specimen of the flattering testimonials which Hume\noccasionally received from France, the following letter from M. Trudaine\nde Montigny, a young Frenchman who attained to considerable distinction,\nis given:\n\n\n(_Translation._)\n\n     \"_Paris, 16th May, 1759._\n\n     \"I pass my time, both in town and country, in a circle of\n     gentlemen, of whom some are acquainted with English, others\n     not. They had been highly pleased with some portions of your\n     works, which had been translated; and among others with your\n     'Political Discourses,' where they found the practical views\n     of a citizen, united with the profound reflections of a\n     politician, and the perspicacity of a philosopher. To put the\n     whole circle in a position to judge for themselves of the\n     merit of these works, I undertook, in the course of a country\n     jaunt which we took all together, to translate your 'Natural\n     History of Religion.' I chose this piece because it appeared\n     to me to contain a complete exposition of philosophy on this\n     subject. I was well rewarded for my pains, by the pleasure I\n     found I gave to all the world. Madame Dupr\u00e9 de St. Maur, who\n     has honoured me with the kindest friendship from my infancy,\n     told me she wished much that you were made acquainted with\n     this feeble effort. M. Steward, whom I met with M. Helvetius,\n     and who wished much to hear the perusal, promised to send it\n     to you.\"\n\nMadame Dupr\u00e9 de St. Maur writes, on 16th May, 1759, that Montigny had\nreceived Hume's acknowledgment, which produced more effect on him than\nany piece of good fortune he had hitherto experienced. \"I partook,\" she\nsays, \"of his joy the more sensibly, as I had in a great measure\ninspired him with confidence to send you his translation, in the\npersuasion that great men are the most indulgent.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\nWe find the tone of this letter frequently responded to in the\ncorrespondence of Grimm with his German patrons, though the Baron does\nnot always coincide in the praises he has to record. Andrew Stuart,\nknown by his letters to Lord Mansfield, who before 1763 was much\nemployed in France in connexion with the Douglas cause, and appears to\nhave been admitted into the best company there, writes to Sir William\nJohnstone on 16th December, 1762: \"When you have occasion to see our\nfriend, David Hume, tell him that he is so much worshipped here, that he\nmust be void of all passions, if he does not immediately take post for\nParis. In most houses where I am acquainted here, one of the first\nquestions is, Do you know Mons{r}. Hume, whom we all admire so much?\nI dined yesterday at Helvetius's, where this same Mons{r}. Hume\ninterrupted our conversation very much.\"--(MS. R.S.E.)\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe following note, from the impetuous Alexander Murray, responds to the\nsame strain:--\n\n     \"MY DEAR HUME,--The great desire that several French gentlemen\n     of my acquaintance have of being known to you, which happiness\n     I have promised to procure them, makes me ardently beg the\n     favour of you to do me the honour to dine with me any day next\n     week (Monday excepted,) that you please to appoint. Your\n     rencounters with the men, my dear friend, give me no sort of\n     pain; but I freely own to you I am under some uneasiness how\n     you will acquit yourself with the fair sex, whose impatience\n     of knowing you is not to be expressed. The day you dine with\n     me you will meet some folks who admire your productions as\n     much as any of your own countrymen, and perhaps comprehend\n     your sublime ideas as well as they do. I beg leave to assure\n     you that no body loves and admires you more than your most\n     sincere friend and humble servant.\"--(MS. R.S.E.)\n\n     \"_Saturday Morning._\"\n\n[169:1] Some words obliterated.\n\n[170:1] A word or two obliterated.\n\n[171:1] A translation was published in 1764, by M. A. Eidous; there was\nanother in 1774, by Blavet.\n\n[172:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 648. Corrected from the original\nMS. R.S.E.\n\n[172:2] The Poker Club, which had then existed for some time, and was\ncontinued for some years after Hume's death. Its name is supposed to\nhave been bestowed on it, on account of its services in stirring the\nintellectual energies of the members.\n\n[174:1] The name Adam used to be thus altered in the Scottish\nvernacular. The person here alluded to is evidently John Adam the\narchitect, and the \"Willie,\" his son William, who became Lord Chief\nCommissioner of the Jury Court in Scotland, and died in 1839.\n\n[175:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1828, p. 683.\n\n[176:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[176:2] Madame Belot, whose translation of the \"History of the House of\nTudor,\" was published in 1763, as \"Histoire de la Maison de Tudor, &c.\npar Madam B * * *.\" She published a translation of the earlier period of\nthe History, in 1765. Grimm charges Madame Belot with preposterous\nblunders as a translator; and gives, as an instance, her rendering\nHume's allusion to the _Polish aristocracy_, by the words, _une\naristocratie polie_. Of this lady, a curious periodical work, called\n\"M\u00e9moires Secrets, pour servir a l'Histoire de la R\u00e9publique des lettres\nen France,\" says, of date 26th May, 1764, that, after having lived a\nlife of wretched poverty, scantily supported by the produce of her\ntranslations from the English, she was then living with the President\nMesnieres, whose taste is considered singular as \"cette dame est peu\njeune: elle est laide, seche et d'un esprit triste et m\u00e9lancolique.\"\nSuch were then the rewards of female authorship in France!\n\n[177:1] This hint was not adopted. Robertson's work was translated by\nSuard.\n\n[178:1] There can have been no reason for this abbreviation of the title\nof the Dauphin and his children, but the circumstance that the letter\nwas liable to be seen in France, and a full statement might be\nconsidered disrespectful. The first-named was the Duc de Berri,\nafterwards Louis XVI.; he was then nine years old. The Count de P. was\nthe Comte de Provence, afterwards Louis XVIII., born in 1755. The Count\nD'A, was the Comte d'Artois, afterwards Charles X., who died in 1836.\nHume has underrated his age, which was six; he was born in 1757. Thus\nwere these children, who made their little speeches to the historian of\nCharles I., all destined to be, successively, kings of France, and to\nexperience a too intimate acquaintance with such scenes as they found\ndepicted in his \"fine history!\"\n\n[179:1] These volumes were lost during the French Revolution. It is said\nthat an attempt was made to convey them to St. Omers; but having to be\ncommitted, for some time, to the care of a Frenchman, his wife became\nalarmed lest the regal emblems on the binding might expose the family to\ndanger from the Terrorists. The narrative proceeds to say, that she\nfirst cut off the binding and buried the manuscripts, but that being\nstill haunted by fears, she exhumed and burned them. See the\nintroduction by Dr. Staniers Clarke, to \"The Life of James II.\" believed\nto be an abridgment of these manuscripts. Hume is not consistent as to\nthe number of volumes.\n\n[179:2] Stewart's Life of Robertson.\n\n[180:1] This letter is not dated.\n\n[181:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[182:1] Lord Marischal's attainder having been reversed, he had visited\nScotland, for the purpose of purchasing one of his estates. He thus\ncommunicates the result to Hume in a letter of 23d February.\n\n\"I thank you for forwarding my cousin's letter. I wish, now that I am\nLaird of Inverury, that he were my son, and of my name. I bought my\nestate farthest north. There was no bidder against any one; and great\napplause of the spectators.\" MS. R.S.E.\n\n[184:1] Edmondstoune appears to have been residing at Geneva, as\nguardian to Lord Mount-Stuart, Lord Bute's son.\n\n[184:2] Sic in MS.\n\n[184:3] See it noticed in vol. i. p. 405, in connexion with the right of\nresistance.\n\n[187:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[187:2] Sic in MS.\n\n[189:1] Original in possession of the Cambusmore family.\n\n[192:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[192:2] The letter proceeds to say, \"Our little society here continues\nmuch on the footing you left it; only that we find frequent occasions of\nregretting the blank you make amongst us. In our college we are making a\ngreat improvement. In consequence of a bargain made with J. Russel,\nBruce, the Professor of the Law of Nature and Nations, goes out; Balfour\nof Pilrig moves into his place; Ferguson into the chair of Moral\nPhilosophy; and Russel into that of Natural. Is not this clever?\" He\nthen states, that \"The taste for French literature grows more and more\namongst us,\" and hopes he will send any new publication which has merit.\nHe concludes with mentioning the bankruptcy of the Fairholms, and the\ncircumstance of Mr. Adam's involvement in it.\n\n[195:1] See Tytler's Life of Kames, vol. ii. p. 148.\n\n[197:1] See Vol. I. p. 232.\n\n[198:1] MS. R.S.E. The latter part of the letter is printed in the\n_Literary Gazette_ for 1822, p. 712.\n\n[201:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[202:1] See above, p. 14.\n\n[202:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[203:1] Andrew Stuart, see above, p. 168.\n\n[204:1] Puisieux?\n\n[204:2] Francis Garden, afterwards a judge of the Court of Session, with\nthe title of Lord Gardenstone. He was senior, and James Burnet,\nafterwards Lord Monboddo, was junior Scottish counsel for Mr. Douglas in\nthe Tournelle process in France.\n\n[205:1] Copy in R.S.E. The original is in possession of Colonel Mure.\n\n[206:1] Perhaps an error in transcribing _au grand couvert_?\n\n[207:1] Private Correspondence, p. 83-85.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n1764-1765. \u00c6t. 53-54.\n\n     The French and English Society of Hume's day--Reasons of his\n     warm reception in France--Society in which he moved--Mixture\n     of lettered men with the Aristocracy--Madame Geoffrin--Madame\n     Du Page de Boccage--Madame Du Deffand--Mademoiselle De\n     L'Espinasse--D'Alembert--Turgot--The Prince of Conti--Notices\n     of Hume among the Parisians--Walpole in Paris--Resumption of\n     the Correspondence--Hume undertakes the management of Elliot's\n     sons--Reminiscences of home--Mrs. Cockburn--Adam Smith--Madame\n     De Boufflers and the Prince of Conti--Correspondence with Lord\n     Elibank.\n\n\nThere were many things to make the social position he obtained in France\ninfinitely gratifying to Hume. Even his good birth was no claim to\nadmission on a position of liberal familiarity with the higher\naristocracy of England. His descent from a line of Scottish lairds would\nbe insufficient in the eyes of the Walpoles, Russels, and Seymours, to\ndistinguish him from the common herd of men who could put on a laced\nwaistcoat and powdered wig, and command decent treatment from the\nlackeys in their ante-chambers. His claims rested on his Literary rank;\nand the extent to which such claims might be admitted was fixed by\nHereditary rank at its own discretion. It might cordially receive them\none day, and repel them with cold disdain on another. In this doubtful\nand partial recognition, Hume would find himself in the motley crowd of\nthose who force themselves, or are partly welcomed, into these high\nplaces--dissipated men of genius, underbred men of riches, hardworking,\npertinacious politicians; persons with whom his finely trained mind, his\nreserve, and his habit of mixing in a refined though small society of\nScotsmen, would not easily harmonize.\n\nIn France matters were widely different; there he was at once warmly and\naffectionately received into the bosom of a society to which many of the\nsupercilious English aristocracy would have sought for admission in\nvain. In England no distinct palpable barrier surrounded the\ndistinguished group. The multitude clamorously asserted an equality. In\ndefault of other qualities, impudence and perseverance were sometimes\nsufficient to force admission. In these circumstances, each member of\nthe privileged classes guarded his own portion of the arena as well as\nhe might, and the intruder had to fight battle after battle, and contest\nevery inch of ground he gained.\n\nIt seems as if in France the very rigidness with which the select circle\nwas fortified was the reason why those admitted within it were placed so\nthoroughly at their ease. The aristocracy could open the door, look\nabout them, and invite an individual to enter, without fearing to\nencounter a general rush for admission. There was much evil of every\nkind in that circle; we have not to deal here with its inward morality,\nbut its outward form, and it certainly deserves to be remembered as one\nof the most memorable instances in which, on any large scale, the\naristocracy of rank and wealth has met the aristocracy of letters\nwithout restraint. The quality of shining in conversation was not to be\ndespised by the greatest in wealth, or the highest in the peerage; and\ntheir efforts were measured with those of the first wits of the time. To\nan aristocracy which could thus amuse itself, it was a great luxury to\nbe surrounded by men of thought and learning. The courtier who could\nopen his salon to the wits and philosophers of Paris, was far more\ndependant on their presence than they were on the privilege of\nadmission. If a Barth\u00e9lemi, a Marmontel, a Condillac, saw cause to\ndesert the suppers of D'Holbach, they would be received at those of the\nDuc de Praslin or de Choiseul, the Prince of Conti, and Madame du\nDeffand; but how were such departed stars to be replaced?[209:1]\n\nThere is perhaps no more striking type of the character and condition\nof the Parisian coteries than one of Hume's most intimate friends,\nMadame Geoffrin. In this country, were an uneducated woman to frame and\nlead a social party, including the first in rank and in talent of the\nday, to which no one under royalty was too great not to deem admission a\nprivilege; were she to be absolute in her admissions and exclusions,\nbold in her sarcasms, free and blunt often to rudeness in her\nobservations and opinions, and severe or kind to all by turns as her own\nchoice or caprice suggested, it would be at once pronounced that the\nreddest blood and the highest rank could alone produce such an anomaly.\nA very small number of eminent duchesses have perhaps occupied such a\nposition in this country. Yet Madame Geoffrin, who acted this part to\nthe full among the fastidious aristocracy of France before the\nrevolution, was the daughter of a valet-de-chambre and the widow of a\nglass manufacturer. The foundation of her influence was her success in\nmaking herself the centre of a circle of artists and men of letters. She\nwas much in the confidence of Madame De Tencin, and on that lady's death\nsucceeded in transferring to herself what remained of her distinguished\nsociety, dimmed as it was by the departure of Montesquieu and\nFontenelle. Madame Geoffrin by activity and energy widened the circle.\nShe never made visits herself, and those who had the privilege of\nentering her dining-room on her public days, found there assembled\nD'Alembert, Helv\u00e9tius, Raynal, Marmontel, Caraccioli, Holbach, Galliani,\nand the artist Vanloo. During the British embassy, David Hume, the great\nphilosopher from the far North, might there be met; and when all other\nattempts had perhaps failed, some chance of encountering such an erratic\nmeteor as Rousseau still remained in attending Madame Geoffrin's\nWednesday dinner. Having once, by her signal wit and wisdom, gained her\nposition, no obtrusive rivals from her own deserted class could push\nnear enough to drive her from it. It is not the least admirable feature\nof this remarkable woman, that far from assuming the subdued and\ncautious tone of one of her own rank, who must be more wary than a\ndenizen of committing breaches of the social rules of her new cast, a\nsimplicity and freedom seems to have accompanied all her actions and\nideas; a courageous adoption of what seemed good to her in place of what\nmight be fit. Her letters, in their severe diction, give some notion of\nthe writer's character, but cannot convey so full an impression as when\nthey are presented in the bold, irregular, and most \"unlady-like\" hand\nin which they are scribbled.[211:1]\n\nThe pleasant retailers of the literary chit-chat of that time,\nMarmontel, Grimm, Bauchemont, and others, are full of details of Madame\nGeoffrin, who, if she was not quite as formally approached as Boufflers,\nor Deffand, was as much respected, loved, and feared. The author of the\n\"Contes Moraux,\" tells us some of the weaknesses of this gifted lady;\nand, according to his account, she had been actually convicted, living\nas she was outwardly in the freest society in the world, of a turn for\nsecret devotion! \"Elle avait un apartement dans un couvent de\nreligieuses et une tribune \u00e0 l'Eglise des Capucins,--mais avec autant de\nmyst\u00e8re que les femmes galantes de ce temps-l\u00e0 avaient des petites\nmaisons.\" The picture would be sufficiently ludicrous, were it not for\nthe darker features presented by a state of society, where no one should\nventure to be pious except under pain of being exterminated with\nridicule.\n\nThere was one matter as to which Madame Geoffrin was timid and cautious;\nshe never meddled with matters of state or unsafe political opinions,\nand was induced to discountenance those who did so. Surrounded by\nrestless and inquiring spirits, she often dreaded being compromised by\ntheir conduct; and was especially uneasy at any time when the Bastille\nsheltered a more than usual number of those whose wit was wont to flash\nround her board. But her guests have recorded, that if there was a\nlittle saddened and earnest gravity in her deportment, when she received\nthem after such naughty affairs, she abated nothing of her old kindness.\nHer good heart indeed was after all her noblest quality. She was one of\nthose who held the simple notion, that were it not for the judicious\ndistribution of favours by the rich, the poor, including artisans and\nproducers of all kinds, must necessarily die of starvation. She was thus\nin the midst of an extensive distribution of charities, actively\noccupied in the _encouragement_ of those who lived by the sweat of their\nbrow; and if she believed that she accomplished much more than she\nactually did, it was a satisfaction not to be grudged to one who\noccupied herself with the fortunes of the poor, in the midst of the\nstony indifference of the French aristocracy of that day.\n\nAnother lady, a friend and correspondent of Hume, Madame le Page du\nBoccage, endeavoured to rival Madame Geoffrin as a centre of attraction;\nbut though she possessed, along with wealth, both rank and beauty, she\nwas unsuccessful, on account of the presence of a third\nquality--authorship. The wits must praise her bad poetry if they\nfrequented her house, and where so many other doors were open without\nsuch a condition, they abandoned it. \"Elle \u00e9tait d'une figure aimable,\"\nsays Grimm, \"elle est bonne femme; elle est riche; elle pouvait fixer\nchez elle les gens d'esprit et de bonne compagnie, sans les mettre dans\nl'embarras de lui parler avec peu de sinc\u00e9rit\u00e9 de sa _Colombiade_ ou de\nses _Amazones_.\"[213:1]\n\nPerhaps of all these eminent women, while Madame de Boufflers had the\ngreatest amount of elegance and accomplishment, Madame du Deffand had\nthe sharpest and most searching wit. She was the author of that\nproverbial _bon mot_ about St. Denis carrying his head under his arm,\n_il n'y a que le premier pas qui co\u00fbte_; a saying sufficient to make a\nreputation in France. Madame du Deffand does not appear to have been a\ncorrespondent of Hume, nor, though they occasionally met, does much\ncordiality seem to have subsisted between them.[214:1] The aveugle\nclairvoyante, as Voltaire aptly called her, in allusion to her blindness\nand her wit, thought that she discovered in Hume a worshipper at another\nshrine. She wrote to Walpole expressing her disgust of those who paid\ncourt to Madame de Boufflers, at the same time, only just not stating,\nin express terms, how much they were mistaken in not transferring their\nobsequiousness to herself.[214:2] She, certainly an object of pity from\nher blindness, was still more so in her own discontented spirit. The\ndays which tranquil ease and the attentions of kind friends might have\nsoothed, were disturbed by restless vanity, an intense desire to\ninterfere with the doings of that world which she could not see,\ndissipation, and literary wrangles.\n\nOne remarkable person, an offshoot of Madame du Deffand's circle, and\ndriven forth from it to raise an empire of her own, was Mademoiselle de\nL'Espinasse. Hume and she met frequently in Paris, and they subsequently\ncorresponded together. She was an illegitimate child, who, having been\nwell educated, had been adopted by Madame du Deffand as her companion,\nand the minister for supplying, as far as possible, her lost sense of\nsight. Mademoiselle had to be present at those displays of intellect\nwhich illuminated the table of her mistress. It soon began to transpire\nthat the humble drudge possessed a soul of fire; and taking part in the\nconversation, her remarks rose as she acquired confidence and ease, into\nan originality of thought, fulness of judgment, and rich eloquence of\nlanguage, which fascinated the senses of those veteran champions in the\narena of intellect. Thus many of those who went to offer their incense\nto a woman old and blind, were constrained to bestow some of it on one\n\"young in years, but in sage counsel old,\" who had little more outward\nclaim on their admiration; for Mademoiselle de L'Espinasse was naturally\nplain, and was deeply marked with smallpox. The patroness did not\npresent herself till six o'clock in the evening; to her who knew no\ndifference between light and darkness it was morning. She often found\nthat her prot\u00e9g\u00e9e had been entertaining the guests for an hour, and that\nthey had come early to enjoy her conversation. This was treason--an\novert tampering with the allegiance of the followers; and the\nsubordinate was driven forth with contumely.\n\nIt is not easy to decide which party, if either, was in the right;\nthough the memoir writers in general take the part of Mademoiselle de\nL'Espinasse. Far from being made a homeless wanderer by the dismissal,\nshe was immediately supplied with a house and furniture by her friends,\nwho obtained for her a pension from the crown. On these means she\nfounded a rival establishment of her own; and surrounded herself with an\nintellectual circle, which seems to have more than rivalled in\nbrilliancy that from which she was dismissed. D'Alembert was told that\nif he countenanced the new idol, he must bid farewell to his former\npatroness. He at once joined the party of the young aspirant. He became\ndangerously ill, and Mademoiselle de L'Espinasse nursed him with the\nuntiring affection of a wife or a daughter. The philosopher, whose\nhumble dwelling was found to be on too sordid a scale to be consistent\nwith health, thenceforth took up his abode with his young friend. Hume\nmust have witnessed the rise of this new connexion, for it was during\nhis residence in Paris that D'Alembert's illness took place, and it is\nthe object of occasional anxious allusion by his Parisian\nacquaintance.[216:1]\n\nThough the circumstances in which he passed his earlier days were not\nlikely to nourish such a taste, no man seems to have been more dependant\non the presence of an educated and intellectual female than the\nsecretary of the Academy. There is little doubt that the new attachment\nwas of a Platonic character; but it boded evil to both parties. The\nlady, if she had some portion of the purer affections of the soul to\nbestow upon the sage, had warmer feelings for likelier objects; and her\nframe sunk before the consuming fires of more than one passion.[218:1]\nShe was carried to an early grave, and the mortifications, caused by her\nalienation, followed by grief for her death, broke the spirit, and\nimbittered and enfeebled the latter days of the philosopher. Hume seems\nto have established a closer friendship with D'Alembert than with any of\nhis other contemporaries in France; and he left a memorial of his regard\nfor the encyclopediast in his will. Unlike, in many respects, they had\nsome features in common. D'Alembert's personal character, and the habits\nof his life, had, like his philosophy, the dignity of simplicity. His\nfigure, and still more his voice, were the objects of much malicious\nsarcasm; but cruel jests could not make his fragile body less the\ntenement of a noble spirit; or his shrill puny voice less the instrument\nof great and bold thoughts. His mind stands forth in strong relief from\nthe frippery of that age; while his writings contain no marks of that\nreckless infidelity which distinguishes the productions of his fellow\nlabourers. In some of those follies, so prevalent that a man utterly\nfree of them, must have courted the charge of eccentricity, if not of\ninsanity, he partook; but moderately and reluctantly, as one suited for\na better time and a nobler sphere of exertion. In the quarrel with\nRousseau, he adopted the cause of Hume with honest zeal. He wrote many\nletters to Hume, which are still preserved. They perhaps, in some\nmeasure, exhibit the least amiable feature of his character--his\nbitterness, it might be almost termed hatred, towards Madame du Deffand,\non account of her conduct to his own friend.\n\nIt is unnecessary to discourse, at any length, on the distinguished\nmen--including the names of Buffon, Malesherbes, Diderot, Cr\u00e9billon,\nMorellet, Helv\u00e9tius, Holbach, H\u00e9nault, Raynal, Suard, La Condamine, and\nDe Brosses, who courted Hume's company in France. Next to D'Alembert,\nhis closest friendship seems to have been with the honest and thoughtful\nstatesman, Turgot; who, in the midst of that reckless whirl of vanity,\nwas already looking far into the future, and predicting, from the\ndisorganized and menacing condition of the elements of French society,\nthe storm that was to come. He wrote many letters to Hume, containing\nremarks on matters of statesmanship and political economy, which are of\ngreat interest in a historical and economical view, especially in one\ninstance, where he notices the want of any common principle of\nsympathies and interests connecting the aristocracy with the people, and\nreflects on the dangerous consequences of such a state of matters to the\npeace of Europe.\n\nThere are many circumstances showing that much as he loved the social\nease, combined with learning and wit, for which his Parisian circle was\nconspicuous, he disliked one prominent feature of that social\nsystem--the scornful infidelity, the almost intolerance of any thing\nlike earnest belief, so often exhibited, both in speech and conduct. Sir\nSamuel Romilly has preserved the following curious statement by\nDiderot:--\"He spoke of his acquaintance with Hume. 'Je vous dirai un\ntrait de lui, mais il vous sera un peu scandaleux peut-\u00eatre, car vous\nAnglais vous croyez _un peu_ en Dieu; pour nous autres nous n'y croyons\ngu\u00e8res. Hume d\u00eena avec une grande compagnie chez le Baron D'Holbach. Il\n\u00e9tait assis \u00e0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 du Baron; on parla de la religion naturelle: 'Pour\nles Ath\u00e9es,' disait Hume, 'je ne crois pas qu'il en existe; je n'en ai\njamais vu.' 'Vous avez \u00e9t\u00e9 un peu malheureux,' r\u00e9pondit l'autre, 'vous\nvoici \u00e0 table avec dix-sept pour la premi\u00e8re fois.'\"[220:1]\n\nThe secretary's residence in the metropolis was occasionally varied by\nofficial sojourns to Fontainbleau, or Compi\u00e8gne, a visit to the Duchesse\nde Barbantane at Villers Cotterets, or an excursion with Madame de\nBoufflers and the Prince of Conti to L'Ile-Adam. That rural seat of\nprincely magnificence and hospitality is a familiar name in the memoirs\nof the times; and particularly in those of Madame de Genlis. It is\nsingular, indeed, that this lady never mentions Hume, though she appears\nto have been living in the castle at the time when he visited it. The\nPrince of Conti was in every way possessed of the external\nqualifications which, in the eyes of his countrymen, were then the\nproper ornaments of his high station. He was brave, a distinguished\nmilitary leader, generous, extravagant, gallant, and a lover of\nliterature and the arts.[221:1] There was probably little in such a\ncharacter to rival a Turgot, or a D'Alembert in Hume's esteem; but\nhis intercourse with this prince, as with De Rohan, De Choiseul, and\nothers, would be of a more limited and formal character.[221:2] His\ninfluence with courtiers and statesmen, however, appears to have been\nconsiderable. In the letters addressed to him there are several\ninstances where French people solicit his interposition with the great:\nthus, Madame Helv\u00e9tius desires his good offices to procure an abbaye for\nher friend and neighbour the Abb\u00e9 \"Macdonalt,\" of an illustrious Irish\nfamily.[222:1] One lady, seeking ecclesiastical patronage, tells him\nthat the clergy will have more pleasure in doing him a favour than in\nperforming the functions of their office!\n\nHume has thus recorded in his \"own life\" the impression left on him by\nhis reception in Paris:--\"Those who have not seen the strange effects of\nmodes, will never imagine the reception I met with at Paris, from men\nand women of all ranks and stations. The more I resiled from their\nexcessive civilities, the more I was loaded with them. There is,\nhowever, a real satisfaction in living at Paris; from the great number\nof sensible, knowing, and polite company with which that city abounds\nabove all places in the universe. I thought once of settling there for\nlife.\" If he thought that he could have taken up his residence in Paris,\nand preserved for the remainder of his days the fresh bloom of his\nreputation, he was undoubtedly mistaken; but, dazzled as he in some\nmeasure was, we can see in his correspondence that he estimated the\nsensation he made pretty nearly at its just value. In the circle of\ntoys, seized and discarded, by a giddy fashionable crowd, philosophy\nwill have its turn, as well as poodles, parrots, tulips, monkeys, caf\u00e9s,\nand black pages. It had been so a century earlier, when the most\nabstruse works of Des Cartes had been the ornament of every fashionable\nlady's toilette; and now the wheel had revolved and philosophy was again\nin vogue.\n\nA second time we have Lord Charlemont affording us a passing sketch of\nHume. Having had an opportunity of witnessing the philosopher's\nreception in France, he says:--\n\n     \"From what has been already said of him, it is apparent that\n     his conversation to strangers, and particularly to Frenchmen,\n     could be little delightful, and still more particularly, one\n     would suppose, to French women: and yet no lady's toilette was\n     complete without Hume's attendance. At the opera his broad\n     unmeaning face was usually seen _entre deux jolis minois_. The\n     ladies in France gave the ton, and the ton was deism: a\n     species of philosophy ill suited to the softer sex, in whose\n     delicate frame weakness is interesting, and timidity a\n     charm. . . . . How my friend Hume was able to endure the\n     encounter of these French female Titans, I know not. In\n     England, either his philosophic pride or his conviction that\n     infidelity was ill suited to women, made him perfectly averse\n     from the initiation of ladies into the mysteries of his\n     doctrine.\"[223:1]\n\nThe same characteristics are recorded by Grimm.[223:2] We have his\nposition still more vividly painted by Madame d'Epinay, according to\nwhom he must have undergone not a small portion of the martyrdom of\nlionism. One of the \"rages\" of the day was the holding of caf\u00e9s, or\ngiving entertainments in private houses, according to the arrangements\nand etiquette of a public caf\u00e9. Among the amusements of the evening were\npantomimes, and acted tableaux. In these it was necessary that Hume\nshould take a _r\u00f4le_, and as he was always willing to conform to\nestablished regulations, we find him seated as a sultan between two\nobdurate beauties, intending to strike his bosom, but aiming the blows\nat _le ventre_, and accompanying his acting with characteristic\nexclamations.[224:1]\n\nHume's popularity in Paris appears to have somewhat disturbed Horace\nWalpole's equanimity. He was too good an artist to be very angry, or to\nexpress himself in terms of aggravated bitterness; but it is clear from\noccasional notices, that, notwithstanding his professed admiration of\nScotsmen, it displeased him to find Hume the Scotsman sitting at the\nking's gate. Writing to Lady Hervey on 14th Sept. 1765, he says, \"Mr.\nHume, that is _the mode_, asked much about your ladyship.\"[225:1] Then\nto Montague, on the 22d of the same month, and in allusion to the\nconversation of the dinner-table in Paris:\n\n     For literature, it is very amusing when one has nothing else\n     to do. I think it rather pedantic in society: tiresome when\n     displayed professedly; and, besides, in this country, one is\n     sure it is only the fashion of the day. Their taste in it is\n     the worst of all; could one believe, that when they read our\n     authors, Richardson and Mr. Hume should be their favourites?\n     The latter is treated here with perfect veneration. His\n     History, so falsified in many points, so partial in as many,\n     so very unequal in its parts, is thought the standard of\n     writing.[225:2]\n\nThus, and in the like strain, do the French suffer in his good opinion,\nfor their offence in making an idol of Hume. So, on the 3d October, when\nwriting to Mr. Chute,--\n\n     Their authors, who by the way are every where, are worse than\n     their own writings, which I don't mean as a compliment to\n     either. In general, the style of conversation is solemn,\n     pedantic, and seldom animated, but by a dispute. I was\n     expressing my aversion to disputes: Mr. Hume, who very\n     gratefully admires the tone of Paris, having never known any\n     other tone, said with great surprise, \"Why, what do you like,\n     if you hate both disputes and whisk?\"[225:3]\n\nThen, on the 19th of the same month, to Mr. Brand:\n\n     I assure you, you may come hither very safely, and be in no\n     danger from mirth. Laughing is as much out of fashion as\n     pantins and bilboquets. Good folks, they have no time to\n     laugh. There is God and the king to be pulled down first; and\n     men and women, one and all, are devoutly employed in the\n     demolition. They think me quite profane for having any belief\n     left. But this is not my only crime; I have told them, and am\n     undone by it, that they have taken from us to admire the two\n     dullest things we had--Whisk and Richardson. It is very true\n     that they want nothing but George Grenville to make their\n     conversations, or rather dissertations, the most tiresome upon\n     earth. For Lord Lyttelton, if he would come hither, and turn\n     freethinker once more, he would be reckoned the most agreeable\n     man in France,--next to Mr. Hume, who is the only thing in the\n     world that they believe implicitly, which they must do, for I\n     defy them to understand any language that he speaks.[226:1]\n\nAt this time Adam Smith was travelling in France, with his pupil, the\nyoung Duke of Buccleuch. On 5th July, 1764, he writes from Toulouse,\nrequesting Hume to give him and his pupil introductions to distinguished\nFrenchmen, the Duc de Richelieu, the Marquis de Lorges, &c. He says,\nthat Mr. Townsend had assured him of these and other introductions, from\nthe Duc de Choiseul, but that none had made their appearance in that\nquarter. Smith seems to have been heartily tired of the glittering\nbondage of his tutorship, and to have sighed for the academic\nconviviality he had left behind him at Glasgow. He says:--\n\n\"The Duke is acquainted with no Frenchman whatever. I cannot cultivate\nthe acquaintance of the few with whom I am acquainted, as I cannot bring\nthem to our house, and am not always at liberty to go to theirs. The\nlife which I led at Glasgow, was a pleasureable dissipated life in\ncomparison of that which I lead here at present. I have begun to write a\nbook, in order to pass away the time. You may believe I have very little\nto do. If Sir James would come and spend a month with us in his travels,\nit would not only be a great satisfaction to me, but he might, by his\ninfluence and example, be of great service to the Duke.\"[228:1]\n\nThere is little doubt that the book he had begun to write, was the\n\"Wealth of Nations:\" and we have here probably the earliest announcement\nof his employing himself in that work. On the 21st of October, he writes\nfrom Toulouse, stating that the letters of introduction had reached\nhim, and that his noble pupil was well received. He says, \"Our\nexpedition to Bourdeaux, and another we have made since to Bagneres, has\nmade a great change upon the Duke. He begins now to familiarize himself\nto French company; and I flatter myself I shall spend the rest of the\ntime we are to live together, not only in peace and contentment, but in\ngreat amusement.\"\n\nAmidst the multiplied attractions of Paris, Hume's thoughts were often\nturned to his native city, and the circle of kind friends and admirers\nhe had there left behind him. Such reminiscences of home doings as are\ncontained in the following letters, would doubtless ensure his warm\nattention. On 1st July, Blair writes:\n\n     Robertson has, of late, had worse health than usual, which has\n     somewhat interrupted his studies. He talked once of a trip to\n     France this season; but his want of the language is so\n     discouraging, as seems to have made him lay aside thoughts of\n     it for the present. It will be a twelvemonth more, I suppose,\n     before his Charles V. shall see the light.\n\n     I dined this day with Sir James Macdonald, on whose praises I\n     need not expatiate to you. Much conversation we had about you;\n     and a great deal I heard of your flourishing state. You write\n     concerning it yourself, like a philosopher and a man of sense.\n     The first splendour and eclat of such situations soon loses\n     its lustre, and often, as you found it, is burdensome. Ease\n     and agreeable society are the only things that last and\n     remain; and these, now that you are quite naturalized, and\n     have formed habits of life, I imagine you enjoy in a very\n     comfortable degree. The society at Paris, to one who has all\n     your advantages for enjoying it in its perfection, is, I am\n     fully convinced, from all that I have heard, the most\n     agreeable in the whole world.\n\n     Our education here is at present in high reputation. The\n     Englishes are crowding down upon us every season, and I wish\n     may not come to hurt us at the last.[229:1]\n\nJardine writes, on 1st August:--\n\n     I have attempted, four or five times, to write to you but this\n     poor church has, for some time past, been in such danger, that\n     I could never find time for it. She has employed all my\n     thoughts and care for these twelve months past. The enemy had\n     kindled such a flame, that the old burning bush was like to\n     have been consumed altogether. I know it will give you\n     pleasure to hear that my endeavours to preserve her have been\n     crowned with success. She begins to shine forth with her\n     ancient lustre; and will very soon be, not only fair as the\n     sun, but, to all her enemies, terrible as an army with\n     banners.[230:1]\n\nIt is pleasing to find one whose name has been so much associated with\nthe later school of our national literature, as Mrs. Cockburn, the early\nfriend of Scott, enjoying the intimacy of the sages of the philosophical\nage of Scottish letters. This accomplished lady, well known as the\nauthoress of one of the versions of \"The Flowers of the Forest,\" was a\ncorrespondent of Hume. A few of her letters have been preserved; and the\nfollowing are her free and animated remarks on Hume's flattering\nreception in France,--remarks written in the full assurance that neither\nadulation nor prosperity would diminish the regard of that simple manly\nheart, for the chosen friends he had left in his native soil.\n\n     From the bleak hills of the north, from the uncultured\n     daughter of Caledon, will the adored sage of France deign to\n     receive a few lines: they come from the _heart_ of a friend,\n     and will be delivered by the _hand_ of an enemy. Which, O man\n     of mode, is most indifferent to thee? Insensible thou art\n     alike to gratitude or resentment; fit for the country that\n     worships thee. Thou art equally insensible to love or hate. A\n     momentary applause, ill begot, and worse brought up,--an\n     abortion, a fame not founded on truth,--have bewitched thee,\n     and thou hast forgot those who, overlooking thy errors, saved\n     thy worth. Idol of Gaul, I worship thee not. The very cloven\n     foot, for which thou art worshipped, I despise: yet I remember\n     _thee_ with affection. I remember that, in spite of vain\n     philosophy, of dark doubts, of toilsome learning, God had\n     stamped his image of benignity so strong upon thy _heart_,\n     that not all the labours of thy head could efface it. Idol of\n     a foolish people, be not puffed up; it is easy to overturn the\n     faith of a multitude that is ready to do evil: an apostle of\n     less sense might bring to that giddy nation--libertinism;\n     liberty they are not born to. This will be sent to you by your\n     good friend, Mr. Burnet; who goes much such an errand as you\n     have given yourself through life, viz., in search of truth;\n     and I believe both are equally impartial in the search;\n     though, indeed, he has more visible interests for darkening it\n     than ever you had.\n\n     _Castlehill, Baird's Close, Aug. 20th, 1764._[231:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Paris, 3d September, 1764._\n\n\"It is certain that nothing could be a greater inducement to me to\ncontinue my History, than your desiring so earnestly I should do so. I\nhave so great reason to be satisfied with your conduct towards me, that\nI wish very much to gratify you in every thing that is practicable; and\nthere want not other motives to make me embrace that resolution. For,\nthough I think I have reason to complain of the blindness of party,\nwhich has made the public do justice to me very slowly, and with great\nreluctance, yet I find that I obtain support from many impartial people;\nand hope that I shall every day have more reason to be satisfied in that\nparticular. But, in my present situation, it is impossible for me to\nundertake such a work; and I cannot break off from Lord Hertford, as\nlong as he is pleased to think me useful to him. I shall not, however,\nlose sight of this object; and any materials that cast up, in this\ncountry, shall be carefully collected by me.\n\n\"I am glad you are satisfied with the publication of the new edition of\nmy Essays. I shall be obliged to you if you will inform yourself exactly\nhow many copies are now sold, both of that edition and of the octavo\nedition of my History. I think both these editions very correct. I did\nlittle more than see your friends, Mr. Buchanan and Mr. Wilson, at\nParis, and present them to Lord Hertford. We returned not from Compiegne\ntill a few days before they left Paris. . . . . . I think the Duchess of\nDouglas has chosen well in making Mallet one of her commissioners. I\nhave no good opinion of that cause. Mrs. Mallet has retired into the\nforest of Fontainbleau with a Macgregor. I fancy she is angry with me,\nand thought herself neglected by me while in Paris. I heard of her\nthrusting herself every where into companies, who endeavoured to avoid\nher; and I was afraid she would have laid hold of me to enlarge her\nacquaintance among the French. I have not yet executed your commission\nwith Mons{r}. le Roy, but shall not forget it. I am very glad that Mrs.\nMillar is so good as to remember me. I shall regard it as one agreeable\ncircumstance attending my return to England, that you and she will have\nleisure to give more of your company to your friends; and I shall always\nbe proud to be ranked in the number.\n\n\"The lowness of stocks surely proceeds not from any apprehension of war:\nnever was a general peace established in Europe with more likelihood of\nits continuance; but I fancy your stocks are become at last too\nweighty, to the conviction of all the world. What must happen, if we go\non at the same rate during another war? I am, with great sincerity, dear\nsir, your most obedient humble servant.\"[233:1]\n\n\nThe course of correspondence with Elliot, which commences with the next\nfollowing letter, relates, in a great measure, to the disposal of his\ntwo sons at Paris, and to their future training and education.[233:2]\nThere could be no better evidence of the reliance placed in Hume's\nhonourable principles and knowledge of the world, by those friends who\nwere sufficiently intimate with him, fully to appreciate his character;\nwhile his whole conduct in the transaction shows kindness of heart, with\na warm attachment to friends, and an earnest disposition to serve them.\n\n\nGILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto to_ HUME.\n\n     MY DEAR SIR,--My departure from Paris was so very sudden, that\n     I was obliged to leave many of my little schemes uncompleted;\n     and, what was still more mortifying, to see the progress of\n     all my growing attachments cruelly interrupted. I reached this\n     place just in time, though not a little retarded by the\n     Russian chancellor and his forty horses. Had I but foreseen\n     this obstruction, I might as well have set out on Wednesday\n     morning at two o'clock; and in that case, my dear\n     philosopher, what a delicious evening should I have passed in\n     your company.\n\n     Upon full deliberation I am determined to send you my boys, if\n     a tolerable place can be found for their reception. I did not\n     much like that talking professor, who undertakes so largely:\n     if nothing better can be done, pray take the trouble to renew\n     my negotiation with Madame Anson. Her house, though not just\n     what I could wish, is, however, not much amiss. I must not\n     lose this occasion of sending my children to France. I shall\n     never find any other so favourable. It will be no small\n     consolation to their mother, from whom they are now to be\n     separated for the first time, to know that we are not without\n     a friend in Paris, who will sometimes have an eye to their\n     conduct. If I am not too partial, I think you will find in\n     their character much native simplicity, and perhaps some\n     little elevation of mind. Send them back to me, my dear sir,\n     with the same qualities, tempered, if you will, but not\n     impaired by the acquisition of some few of those graces which\n     spread such an inexpressible charm through those societies\n     where even you are not ashamed to pass so many precious hours.\n\n     If you should find no leisure to give them a moment's\n     instruction, tell them at least to look up to the conduct and\n     character of a young friend of ours at Paris.[234:1] There\n     they will find a model, which, without hoping to equal, it\n     will, however, become them to copy. But, after all, what am I\n     about? At Paris, to have children at all, is _de plus mauvais\n     ton de monde_, and I forgot to inform myself, when one happens\n     to have them, whether it be _permitted_ to take any thought\n     about them. I am impatient to hear from you at London. I shall\n     not be long there. I desire you would take this important\n     business into your hands and settle it for me entirely. I will\n     send them over the moment you desire me, and consigned to whom\n     you direct,--the sooner the better: you will settle all other\n     particulars as you find proper. Before I conclude, allow me in\n     friendship also to tell you, I think I see you at present upon\n     the very brink of a precipice. One cannot too much clear\n     their mind of all little prejudices, but partiality to one's\n     country is not a prejudice. Love the French as much as you\n     will. Many of the individuals are surely the proper objects of\n     affection; but, above all, continue still an Englishman. You\n     know, better than any body, that the active powers of our mind\n     are much too limited to be usefully employed in any pursuit\n     more general than the service of that portion of mankind which\n     we call our country. General benevolence and private\n     friendship will attend a generous mind and a feeling heart,\n     into every country; but political attachment confines itself\n     to one.\n\n          Mon _fils_, sur les humains que ton ame attendrie,\n          Habite l'univers, mais aime sa patrie.\n\n     I have not now leisure to trouble you with the few\n     observations my too short stay at Paris had but imperfectly\n     furnished me with. Irreconcileable to the principles of their\n     government, I am delighted with the amenity and gentleness of\n     their manners. I was even pleased to find that the severity\n     and rigour of our English climate had not rendered me\n     altogether insensible to the kind impressions of a milder sky.\n     May I trouble you with my most cordial and sincere respects to\n     Lord and Lady Hertford. Some French names, too, I could\n     mention, but I am not vain enough to imagine that I can, upon\n     so short an acquaintance, have a place in their remembrance.\n     Believe me, very dear sir, yours very sincerely, and most\n     affectionately,\n\n                                      GILBERT ELLIOT.[235:1]\n\n     (I set out this moment.)\n\n     _Brussels, 15th September, 1764._\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Paris, 22d Sept. 1764._\n\n\"As soon as I received yours from Brussels, I set on foot my inquiries.\nI spoke to Abb\u00e9 Hooke, to P\u00e8re Gordon, to Clairaut, to Madame de Pri,\nand to others, with a view of finding some proper settlement for your\nyoung gentlemen. Every body told me, as _they_ did, of the difficulty of\nsucceeding in my scheme; and nothing yet has been offered me, that I\nwould advise you to accept of. I went to Madame Anson's, and found that\nfamily a very decent, sensible kind of people. I came in upon them about\nseven o'clock, and found a company of eight or nine persons assembled,\nwhose aspects pleased me very much. The only objection that occurred to\nme with regard to this family, is the quarter of the town, which is not\nonly so unfashionable, that my coachman was astonished when I ordered\nhim to drive thither, but, what is worse, it is far from all walks and\nplaces of exercise. However, it is near the university; and,\nconsequently, it is in that quarter where all the youth of France are\neducated. If nothing better present itself, I shall conclude a bargain\nwith this family for a thousand crowns a-year, without firing or\nwashing, according to the terms proposed to you, which they said they\ncould not depart from. The misfortune is, that I must go to Fontainbleau\nin about a fortnight, and, consequently, am straitened in my time of\ninquiry; but, in all cases, I shall certainly conclude with somebody\nbefore my departure. We stay six weeks at Fontainbleau, during which\ntime, if you send your sons to Paris, I shall take a journey thither to\nreceive them. In all cases, they must come immediately to the Hotel de\nBrancas, where they will not want friends.\n\n\"I do not like the talking man more than you do; and a flattering letter\nI have since received from him, does not augment my good opinion. I went\nto Monsieur Bastide, he who proposed the scheme for ten thousand livres\na-year. He seems to be a genteel, well-bred man; lives in a very good\nhouse in an excellent quarter of the town; is well spoke of by\nD'Alembert and others; and has with him two very agreeable boys, Russian\nprinces, who speak French very well. I should have given him the\npreference, had it not been the price. He asks ten thousand livres\na-year for your two sons and their governor, without supplying them\neither with clothes or masters. You know his ten thousand a-piece\nincluded all expenses. If you can resolve to go so far in point of\nexpense, it is the best place that occurs, or is likely to occur.\n\n\"Since I wrote the above, I went to see Mademoiselle L'Espinasse,\nD'Alembert's mistress, who is really one of the most sensible women in\nParis. She told me that there could not be a worthier, honester, better\nman, than Bastide. I told her that I had entertained the same opinion,\nbut was afraid his head-piece was none of the best. She owned that he\ndid not excel on that side; and a proof of it was, that he had wrote\nseveral books, all of which were below middling. On my return home, I\nfound the enclosed letter from him.[237:1] I have promised him an answer\nby the return of the post from England. On the whole, the chief\nadvantage, as it appears to me, which his house will have above Anson's,\nconsists in the air and situation. It lies on the skirts of the town, in\nan open street near the rampart; but five thousand livres a-year is\npaying too dear for the advantage.\n\n\"I cannot imagine what you mean by saying I am on a precipice. I shall\nforetell to you the result of my present situation almost with as great\ncertainty as it is possible to employ with regard to any future event.\nAs soon as Lord Hertford's embassy ends, which probably may not\ncontinue long, some zealot, whom I never saw, and never could offend,\nfinding me without protection, will instanter fly, with alacrity, to\nstrike off that pension which the king and the ministry, before I would\nconsent to accept of my present situation, promised should be for life.\nI shall be obliged to leave Paris, which I confess I shall turn my back\nto with regret. I shall go to Thoulouse or Montauban, or some provincial\ntown in the south of France, where I shall spend, contented, the rest of\nmy life, with more money, under a finer sky, and in better company than\nI was born to enjoy.\n\n\"From what human motive or consideration can I prefer living in England\nthan in foreign countries? I believe, taking the continent of Europe,\nfrom Petersburg to Lisbon, and from Bergen to Naples, there is not one\nwho ever heard of my name, who has not heard of it with advantage, both\nin point of morals and genius. I do not believe there is one Englishman\nin fifty, who, if he heard I had broke my neck to-night, would be sorry.\nSome, because I am not a Whig; some because I am not a Christian; and\nall because I am a Scotsman. Can you seriously talk of my continuing an\nEnglishman? Am I, or are you, an Englishman? Do they not treat with\nderision our pretensions to that name, and with hatred our just\npretensions to surpass and govern them? I am a citizen of the world; but\nif I were to adopt any country, it would be that in which I live at\npresent, and from which I am determined never to depart, unless a war\ndrives me into Switzerland or Italy.\n\n\"I must now inform you what passed with regard to my affair at\nL'ile-Adam.[238:1] My friend showed me a letter, which she had lately\nreceived from Lord Tavistock, by which it appears he had fallen into\ngreat friendship, and bore a great regard to Lady Sarah Bunbury. I\ninstantly forbade her to write to England a line about my affair. I bear\ntoo great a respect to her, to expose her to ask a favour, where there\nwas so little probability of success: thus have vanished my best hopes\nof obtaining justice in this point. Here is surely no new ground of\nattachment to England.\"[239:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Hotel de Brancas, 30th Sept. 1764._\n\n\"After acknowledging that I received both your letters, that from\nBrussels, and that from Calais, I should be ashamed to appear before you\nwith so late a letter. This day fortnight, Lord March and Selwin\nappointed to go off. I sent March a very long letter for you, and\nenjoined him, as he lived next door to you, to deliver it the moment he\narrived; and having thus done my duty, I went very contentedly to\nL'ile-Adam, where I remained for four days. On my return to Paris, I was\nmuch surprised to hear that March, after his post-chaise was yoked, had\nchanged his mind, and was still in Paris. When I appeared alarmed at\nthis intelligence, I was told that he had sent off an express to London\nwith letters, which composed my mind. Next day I saw him, and he fairly\nconfessed, that from forgetfulness, he had not sent off my letter. I\nbegged him to send it to me; he promised it, delayed it, promised again,\nand at last owns that he has lost it; which gives me great vexation,\nboth on your account, and my own, for I spoke to you with great freedom,\nand am infinitely uneasy lest my letter should fall into bad\nhands.[241:1] When I rail at March, I get no other reply than, 'God damn\nyou! if your letter was of consequence, why the devil did you trust it\nto such a foolish fellow as me?' I am therefore obliged, in a great\nhurry, to give you some imperfect account of what I have done. I went to\nAnsons', who seem a discreet, sober set of people. I came in upon a\nmixed company, whose looks pleased me: the only objection is the quarter\nof the town, which is straitened; but it is near the University, and\nconsequently where all the youth of France are educated. I do not like\nthe talking man more than you; and a very flattering letter he wrote me,\nhelped further to disgust me. La Bastide, the 10,000 livres man, I went\nto see: he seems an agreeable man, and is well spoke of; he lives in an\nagreeable house, and in a good air, and has two young Russian princes\nwith him, who speak very good French; he offers to take your two boys\nand preceptor for 8000 livres on the whole, but without paying either\nclothes or master. I suppose you would not choose to pay 5000 livres\na-year, merely for the advantage of better air. I have heard a very good\ncharacter of one Eriot, professor of rhetoric in the Coll\u00e8ge de\nBeauvais, who offers to take them: they would live in the house with\nhim alone; but he proposes that they should go to all the classes of the\nuniversity, where they would make acquaintance with French boys, and\nnobody would ever ask questions about their religion: But as I heard you\ndeclare against their going to the university, (which yet I should\nhighly approve of,) I cannot make any bargain with Eriot. The misfortune\nis, I go to Fontainbleau to-morrow se'ennight, and must conclude a\nbargain without hearing from you, by this fine trick Lord March has\nplayed me. It is probable, therefore, it will be with Anson, because you\nyourself did not disapprove of that plan; and I should be afraid to\ndepart from it considerably, without your authority. If you give me\ninformation in time, I shall come from Fontainbleau to settle your boys.\nIn any case make them come immediately to the Hotel de Brancas, where\nthey will not want friends if any of the family be in town.\n\n\"Since I wrote the above, one of my numerous scouts came to me, and told\nme, that within gunshot of the Hotel de Brancas, there was to be found\nall I could wish, and more than I could have imagined. It is called La\nPension Militaire. I immediately went to see it. I found there an\nexcellent airy house, with an open garden belonging to it. It is the\nbest house but one in Paris; has a prospect and access into the large\nopen space of the Invalids, and from thence into the fields. The number\nof boys is limited to thirty-five, whom I saw in the court, in a blue\nuniform with a narrow silver lace. They left off their play, and made me\na bow with the best grace in the world, as I passed. I was carried to\ntheir master the Abb\u00e9 Choquart, who appeared to me a sensible, sedate,\njudicious man, agreeable to the character I had received of him. He\ncarried me through the boys' apartments, which were cleanly, light,\nspacious, and each lay in a small bed apart. I saw a large collection of\ninstruments for experimental philosophy. I saw an ingenious machine for\nteaching chronology. There were plans of fortification. While I was\nconsidering these, I heard a drum beat in the court. It was the hour for\nassembling the boys for their military exercises. I went down. They had\nnow all got on their belts, and had their muskets in their hands. They\nwent through all the Prussian exercises with the best air and greatest\nregularity imaginable. Almost all were about your son's age, a year or\ntwo more or less. They are the youth of the best quality in France;\ntheir air and manners seemed to bespeak it. The master asked only about\nthirteen hundred livres a-year for each of your boys, five hundred for\nthe preceptor. He supplies them with all masters, except those of\ndancing, music, and designing; for these they have masters that come in,\nwho take only eight livres a-month, though they require from others\nthree louis-d'ors. There is a riding master belonging to the house. Your\nsons need never go to mass unless they please, and nobody shall ever\ntalk to them about religion; the master only requires, that you should\nwrite him a letter, which he will read to every body, by which you\ndesire . . . .\"[243:1]\n\n\nThe following short letter was addressed to Mr. Elliot on the same day\nwith the preceding one, for the reason which the letter itself states.\nThe anxious care with which Hume endeavoured not only to be punctual and\nexact himself in the performance of the business he had undertaken, but\nto remedy the consequences of the absence of these qualities in others,\nmay afford a useful reproof to those who demean themselves as above the\nexercise of these homely virtues; and shows that the practice of them\nhas been, in one instance at least, considered not incompatible with the\ndesign and achievement of intellectual greatness.\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Hotel de Brancas, 30th September, 1764._\n\n\"I have wrote you a long letter to London, a short one to Harrowgate,\nand now I write to you to Minto. Not to lose time, you must have a\nlittle implicit faith; without making further questions, give instantly\norders that your sons be sent to me, and that they come instantly to the\nHotel de Brancas. Within less than a gunshot of this, I have found a\nplace which has all advantages beyond what your imagination could\nsuggest; it is almost directly opposite to my friend the Marechale de\nMirepoix's, by whose advice I act. I tell you this, lest your opinion of\nmy discretion be not the highest in the world. There are there about\nthirty boys of the best families in France. The house is spacious, airy,\nclean, has a garden, opens into the fields; the board costs only\nthirteen hundred livres a-year for each boy, five hundred for the tutor;\nthe boys have almost all masters for this sum. I have concluded the\nbargain for a quarter; the payment runs on from the first of October,\nbecause the course of studies begins then; there will be no question\nabout religion or the mass. I have been more particular in my letter to\nLondon. Nothing was ever so fortunate for your purpose.\"\n\n\n\"_Hotel de Brancas, 9th October, 1764._\n\n\"I go to Fontainbleau to-day; my Lady and Lord Beauchamp go also. Mr.\nTrail, the chaplain, and Mr. Larpent, my lord's secretary, follow in a\nfew days. All these arrangements are unexpected; but the consequence is,\nthat there will be nobody in the Hotel de Brancas for some weeks; but\nthis need not retard a moment your sending the young gentlemen. I have\nspoke to the master of the academy, who says that the moment they arrive\nthey shall be settled as well as if all their kindred were there. I have\nsent the enclosed letter to him, which the gentleman who attends them\nmay deliver immediately on his arrival in Paris. Vive valeque.\"[245:1]\n\n\nIn 1764, the Comte de Boufflers died, and his widow expected to be made\nPrincess of Conti. Hume seems to have seen from the first that this\nexpectation was likely to lead to manifold mortifications, and that it\nwas the duty of a true friend to prepare her mind for disappointment.\nIn this spirit he wrote her the following long and carefully considered\nletters, in answer to some communications from her, full of hopes and\nfears, and all a Frenchwoman's nervous agitations.\n\n\nHUME _to the_ COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.\n\n     _Wednesday, 28th of November, 1764._\n\n     You may believe that, ever since my return to Paris, I have\n     kept my eyes and ears open with regard to every thing that\n     concerns your affair. I find it is the general opinion of all\n     those who think themselves the best informed, that a\n     resolution is taken in your favour; and that the resolution\n     will probably have place. But you do not expect surely, that\n     so great an event will pass without censure. It would ill\n     become my friendship to flatter you on this head. The envy and\n     jealousy of the world would alone account for a repugnance in\n     many. Nobody has been more generally known than you; both of\n     late and in your early youth. Will so numerous an acquaintance\n     be pleased to see you pass, from being their equal, to be so\n     much their superior? Will they bear your uniting the decisive\n     elevation of rank to the elevation of genius, which they feel,\n     and which they would in vain contest? Be assured, that she is\n     really and sincerely your friend, who can willingly yield you\n     so great advantages.\n\n     But though I hear some murmurs of this kind, I have likewise\n     the consolation to meet with several who entertain opposite\n     sentiments. I was told of a man of superior sense, nowise\n     connected with you, who maintained in a public company, that,\n     if the report was true, nothing could give him a higher idea\n     of the laudable and noble principles of your friend. The\n     execution of his purpose, he said, could not only be\n     justified, but seemed a justice due to you. The capital point\n     is to interpose as few delays as possible. Time must create\n     obstacles, and can remove none. While the matter seems in\n     suspense, many will declare themselves with violence against\n     you, and will render themselves irreconcilable enemies by such\n     declarations. They might be the first to pay court to you,\n     had no leisure been allowed them to display their envy and\n     malignity.\n\n     On the whole, I am fully persuaded, from what I hear and see,\n     that the matter will end as we wish. But in all cases, I\n     foresee, that, let the event be what it will, you will reap\n     from it much honour and much vexation. Alas! dear madam, the\n     former is never a compensation for the latter: especially to\n     you, whose delicate frame, already shaken by an incident of\n     much less importance surely, is ill calculated to bear such\n     violent agitations. Pardon these sentiments if you think them\n     mean. They are dictated by my friendship for you. I am indeed\n     so mean as to wish you alive and healthy and gay in any\n     fortune. A fine consolation for us truly, to see the epithet\n     of princess inscribed on your grave, while we reflect that it\n     contains what was the most amiable in the world? I propose to\n     pay my respects to you the beginning of next week.\n\n\n     _10th December, 1764._\n\n     It is needless to inform you, how much you employed my\n     thoughts in this great crisis of your fortune, of your health,\n     of your life itself. You could perceive, by undoubted signs,\n     that I partook sincerely of the violent anxieties, by which I\n     found you agitated; and that, after having endeavoured in vain\n     to appease the tumult of your passions, I was at last\n     necessitated myself to take part in your distress. My sympathy\n     is not abated by absence. I find myself incapable almost of\n     other occupation or amusement.\n\n     You still recur to my memory. The chief relief I have is in\n     writing to you, and throwing together some thoughts, which\n     occur to me, on your subject.\n\n     They are mostly the same which occurred in conversation, and\n     which I have already suggested to you. They will acquire no\n     additional authority at present in writing, except by\n     convincing you that they are the result of my most mature\n     reflections.\n\n     Of all your friends, I, as a foreigner, am perhaps the least\n     capable of giving you advice on so delicate a subject: I only\n     challenge the preference, in the warmth of my affection and\n     esteem towards you; and I am, as a foreigner, the farther\n     removed from all suspicion of separate interests and regards.\n\n     I cannot too often repeat, what I inculcated on you with great\n     earnestness, that, even if your friend should fix his\n     resolution on the side least favourable to you, you ought to\n     receive his determination without the least resentment. You\n     know that princes, more than other men, are born slaves to\n     prejudices, and that this tax is imposed on them, as a species\n     of retaliation by the public. This prince in particular is in\n     every view so eminent, that he owes some account of his\n     conduct to Europe in general, to France, and to his family,\n     the most illustrious in the world. It is expected, that men,\n     in his station, shall not be actuated by private regards. It\n     is expected, that with them friendship, affection, sympathy,\n     shall be absorbed in ambition, and in the desire of supporting\n     their rank in the world; and, if they fail in this duty, they\n     will meet with blame from a great part of the public. Can you\n     be surprised, that a person covetous of honour, should be\n     moved by these considerations? If he neglected them, would not\n     your grateful heart suggest to you, that he had taken an\n     extraordinary step in your favour? And can you, with any\n     grace, complain, that an extraordinary event has not happened,\n     merely because you wished for it, and found it desirable?\n\n     I am fully sensible, madam, of the force of those arguments\n     which you urged, not to justify your resentment, [from] which\n     you declared you would ever be exempted, but to maintain the\n     reasonableness of your expectations. I am fully sensible of\n     the regard, the sacred regard, due to a long and sincere\n     attachment, which, passing from love to friendship, lost\n     nothing of its warmth, and acquired only the additional merit\n     of reason and constancy. This regard, I own, is really\n     honourable and virtuous; and may safely be opposed to the\n     maxims of an imaginary honour, which, depending upon modes and\n     prejudices, will always be regarded, by great minds, as a\n     secondary consideration. I shall add, what your modesty would\n     not allow you to surmise, or even, perhaps, to think, that an\n     extraordinary step, taken in favour of extraordinary merit,\n     will always justify itself; and will appear but an ordinary\n     tribute. Allow me to do you this justice in your present\n     melancholy situation. I know I am exempt from flattery: I\n     believe I am exempt from partiality. The zeal and fervour\n     which move me, are the effects, not the causes of my judgment.\n\n     But, my dear friend, the consideration, which is the most\n     interesting, the most affecting, the most alarming, is the\n     immediate danger of your health and life, from the violent\n     situation into which fortune has now thrown you. You continued\n     long to live, with tolerable tranquillity, though exposed to\n     many vexations, in a state little befitting your worth and\n     merit; and you still comforted yourself by reflecting that you\n     could not change it, without withdrawing from a friendship\n     dearer to you than life itself. You still could flatter\n     yourself, that the person, for whose sake you made this\n     sacrifice, if he had it in his power, would, at any price,\n     repair your honour, and fortify his connexions with you. The\n     unexpected death of M. de Boufflers has put an end to these\n     illusions. It has at once brought you within reach of honour\n     and felicity: and has thrown a poison on your former state, by\n     rendering it still less honourable than before.\n\n     You cannot say, madam, that I do not feel, and with the most\n     pungent sensation, the cruelty of your situation. I am\n     sensible too, that time will scarcely bring any remedy to this\n     evil.\n\n     The loss of a friend, of a dignity, of fortune, admits of\n     consolation, if not from reason, at least from oblivion; and\n     these sorrows are not eternal. But while you maintain your\n     present connexions, your hopes, still kept alive, will still\n     enliven your natural desire of that state to which you aspire,\n     and your disgust towards that state in which you will find\n     yourself. I foresee that your lively passions, continually\n     agitated, will tear in pieces your tender frame: melancholy\n     and a broken constitution may then prove your lot, and the\n     remedy which could now preserve your health and peace of mind,\n     may come too late to restore them.\n\n     What advice, then, can I give you, in a situation so\n     interesting? The measure which I recommend to you requires\n     courage, but I dread that nothing else will be able to prevent\n     the consequences, so justly apprehended. It is, in a word,\n     that after employing every gentle art to prevent a rupture,\n     you should gradually diminish your connexion with the Prince,\n     should be less assiduous in your visits, should make fewer and\n     shorter journeys to his country seats, and should betake\n     yourself to a private, and sociable, and independent life at\n     Paris. By this change in your plan of living, you cut off at\n     once the expectations of that dignity to which you aspire; you\n     are no longer agitated with hopes and fears; your temper\n     insensibly recovers its former tone; your health returns; your\n     relish for a simple and private life gains ground every day,\n     and you become sensible, at last, that you have made a good\n     exchange of tranquillity for grandeur. Even the dignity of\n     your character, in the eyes of the world, recovers its lustre,\n     while men see the just price you set upon your liberty; and\n     that, however the passions of youth may have seduced you, you\n     will not now sacrifice all your time, where you are not deemed\n     worthy of every honour.\n\n     And why should you think with reluctance on a private life at\n     Paris? It is the situation for which I thought you best\n     fitted, ever since I had the happiness of your acquaintance.\n     The inexpressible and delicate graces of your character and\n     conversation, like the soft notes of a lute, are lost amid the\n     tumult of company, in which I commonly saw you engaged. A more\n     select society would know to set a juster value upon your\n     merit. Men of sense, and taste, and letters, would accustom\n     themselves to frequent your house. Every elegant society would\n     court your company. And though all great alterations in the\n     habits of living may, at first, appear disagreeable, the mind\n     is soon reconciled to its new situation, especially if more\n     congenial and natural to it. I should not dare to mention my\n     own resolutions on this occasion, if I did not flatter myself\n     that your friendship gives them some small importance in your\n     eyes. Being a foreigner, I dare less answer for my plans of\n     life, which may lead me far from this country; but if I could\n     dispose of my fate, nothing could be so much my choice as to\n     live where I might cultivate your friendship. Your taste for\n     travelling might also afford you a plausible pretence for\n     putting this plan in execution: a journey to Italy would\n     loosen your connexions here; and, if it were delayed some\n     time, I could, with some probability, expect to have the\n     felicity of attending you thither.[251:1]\n\nHume had the happiness of Madame de Boufflers sincerely at heart; and we\nfind him, on 24th June, 1765, thus writing to his brother:--\n\n\"I had great hopes, all the winter, of seeing the Countess in a station\nsuitable to her merit, and of paying my respects to her as part of the\nroyal family. Several accidents have disappointed us; and the various\nturns of this affair have more agitated me than almost any event in\nwhich I was ever engaged.\"\n\nThe following correspondence exhibits a feature in Hume's character,\nwhich to many readers will be new, and perhaps unpleasing. It shows that\nhe was by no means exempt from the passion of anger, and that when under\nits influence he was liable to be harsh and unreasonable. The general\nnotion formed of his character is, that he passed through life unmoved\nand immovable, a placid mass of breathing flesh, on which the ordinary\nimpulses which rouse the human passions into life might expend\nthemselves in vain. We have seen that very early in life he had\nundertaken the task of bringing his passions and propensities under the\nyoke, and directing all his physical and mental energies to the\naccomplishment of his early and never fading vision of literary renown.\nFrom many indications which petty incidents in his life afford, it would\nappear that the ardour of his nature, if thus regulated, was not\neradicated; and one cannot, in a general survey of his course and\ncharacter, reject the conclusion, that his early resolution not to enter\nthe lists as a controversial writer, mentioned in the following letter,\nwas suggested by a profound self-knowledge, and a consciousness of his\ninability to preserve his temper as a controversialist.\n\nThe person against whom all the wrath of the following letter is\ndirected, is the respectable author of the \"Historical and Critical\nInquiry into the Evidence produced by the Earls Murray and Morton\nagainst Mary Queen of Scots.\" That, assailed as he often was by attacks\nso much more vehement and unscrupulous, Hume should have taken so deep\numbrage at this piece of free historical criticism, is a problem not\neasily to be explained. It is not a little remarkable that the bitterest\nremark on any contemporary contained in his published works, is a note\nto his History, in which he has abbreviated the purport of the\nletter.[252:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ LORD ELIBANK.[252:2]\n\n\"MY LORD,--As I am told that Dr. Robertson has wrote a few remarks,\nwhich he communicated to your lordship, as our common answer about the\naffair of Queen Mary, and has endeavoured to show you that it was\ncontempt and not inability, which kept him from making a public reply; I\nthought it would not be amiss for me to imitate his example; and I did\nnot indeed know a properer person, nor a more equal judge than your\nlordship, to whom I could submit the cause. For if, on the one hand,\nyour lordship's regard to the memory of that princess might give you a\nbias to that side, I know, that the ancient and constant friendship,\nwith which your lordship has always honoured me, both in public and\nprivate, would give you a strong bias on my side; and there was a good\nchance for your remaining neutral and impartial between these motives.\n\n\"I shall confine my apology to the account which I have given of the\nconference at Hampton court, as this is indeed the chief point, in which\nthe answerer has thought proper to find fault with me.\n\n\"There are several places, in which I mention Mary's refusal to give any\nreply to Murray's charge, and have commonly said, that she annexed as a\ncondition, her being admitted to Queen Elizabeth's presence; as in page\n496, line 20; page 501, line 12, line 21.[253:1] I have not said that\nthis condition was an unreasonable one, (the words which the answerer\nputs in my mouth,) but only that it was such a one as she did not expect\nto be granted; and that because Queen Elizabeth had formerly refused it,\nbefore any positive proofs of Mary's guilt were produced, merely from\nthe general rumour and opinion, which were unfavourable to her. Having\nthus clearly expressed myself on this head, when I have occasion\nafterwards, in the course of the narration, to mention the matter, I say\nonce or twice simply, that Mary refused to give any answer, without\nexpressing the condition annexed by her. My reasons were, that the\nposition was sufficiently qualified by the preceding narration; and\nbecause a refusal, grounded on a condition which the person does not\nexpect to be gratified, and which is accordingly denied, is certainly\nequivalent to a simple and absolute refusal.\n\n\"That your lordship may judge of the unfairness of the answerer, he\npicks out this simple and unqualified expression of mine, and omits the\nothers, which explain it to the readers of the meanest capacity; and he\nopposes it by a passage cited with equal unfairness from Mr. Goodall's\nappendix. He quotes a long passage from Goodall, p. 308, in which Queen\nMary demands copies of her letters, and offers positively to give an\nanswer without mentioning any conditions; and this detached passage he\nopposes to the detached passage from me, in which I assert that she\nabsolutely refused to answer. He desires that this express contradiction\nbetween my narration and the records may be remarked. But, in the first\nplace, the condition of being admitted to Queen Elizabeth, though not\nmentioned in that paper, is not relinquished, and it is even clearly\nimplied; because Mary there refers to a former letter, which we find in\nGoodall, p. 283, line 2, from the bottom, page 289, line 13, and where\nit is positively insisted on. Secondly, we have in Goodall, page 184,\nQueen Mary's commission to break up the conference, if that condition be\nnot granted. Thirdly, Queen Elizabeth understands her meaning very well,\nas indeed it was very plain, and offers to her copies of the letters, if\nshe will promise to answer without any condition; see Goodall, page 311,\nline 3, and this offer is not accepted of. Fourthly, in the very last\npaper of all, which closes the whole, the Bishop of Ross still insists\non that condition; Goodall, page 390 about the middle.\n\n\"You see, therefore, my lord, the double trick practised. A mangled\npassage of my History is confronted with a mangled passage of Mr.\nGoodall's papers, and by this gross fraud a contradiction is pretended\nto be found between them. A single forgery would not do the business.\n\n\"I believe it will divert your lordship to observe, that when the\nanswerer is employing these base artifices, this is the very moment he\nchooses to call me liar and rascal. But that trick is so frequently\npractised by thieves, pick-pockets, and controversial writers,\n(gentlemen whose morality are pretty much upon a footing,) that all the\nworld has ceased to wonder, and wise men are tired of complaining of it.\n\n\"I do not find that even this gentleman has ventured to assert, that\nQueen Mary offered to answer Murray's accusation, though she should be\nrefused access to Queen Elizabeth. Where then is the difference between\nus? He asserts, that she offered to answer, if admitted to that queen. I\nsay that she refused to answer unless she was admitted, which are\npositive and negative propositions of the same import.\n\n\"For a proof that Queen Mary's commission was finally revoked, I beg\nyour lordship to consult Goodall, p. 184, 311, 387, where it is plainly\nasserted. The last quotation is from the concluding paper of the whole\ncollection.\n\n\"I hope your lordship, as my friend, will congratulate me on the\nresolution I took in the beginning of my life, that is, of my literary\nlife, never to reply to any body. Otherwise this gentleman, I mean this\nauthor, might have insulted me on my silence. I am sure your lordship\nwould have disowned me for ever as a friend, if I had entered the lists\nwith such an antagonist. Mr. Goodall is no very calm or indifferent\nadvocate in this cause; yet he disowns him as an associate, and\nconfesses to me and all the world, that I am here right in my facts, and\nam only wrong in my inferences.\n\n\"There appear to me two infallible marks of our opposite parties, and as\nwe may say proof charges, which, if a man can stand, there is no fear\nthat any charge will ever burst him. A Whig who believes the popish\nplot, and a Tory who asserts Queen Mary's innocence, are certainly\nfitted to go all lengths with their party. I am happy to think that such\npeople are both equally my enemies; and still more happy, that I have no\nanimosity at either.\n\n\"It is an old proverb, _Love me, love my dog_; but certainly it admits\nof many exceptions. I am sure, at least, that I have a great respect for\nyour lordship, yet have none at all for this dog of yours. On the\ncontrary, I declare him to be a very mangy cur; entreat your lordship to\nrid your hands of him as soon as possible, and think a sound beating, or\neven a rope too good for him.\"[256:1]\n\n\nLord Elibank's answer does not appear to have been preserved. It can\nscarcely be supposed that the foregoing letter, or any one written in a\nlike spirit, is the communication which Hume characterizes in the\nfollowing letter as written \"in a spirit of cordiality and amity,\" and\ncontaining \"every pathetic, every engaging sentiment and expression;\"\nyet we afterwards find Lord Elibank sarcastically alluding to his\nhaving been so stupid as to mistake the spirit thus described, for one\nof a totally opposite tendency.\n\n\nHUME _to_ LORD ELIBANK.\n\n\"_Fontainbleau, 3d Nov. 1764._\n\n\"MY LORD,--In reply to the letter with which your lordship has honoured\nme, I shall endeavour to be as clear and as concise as possible. Your\nlordship should never have heard of the short and slight disgust between\nyour brother and me, had he not told Sir James Macdonald that you was in\nsuch a passion against me, on account of my conduct towards him, that\nyou intended instantly to compose a pamphlet against me, on the subject\nof Queen Mary, and to publish it as a full revenge upon me. You see that\nhe insinuates the same thing in his letter, and he says that you was\n_formerly my friend_. But the whole story, I have now reason to see, was\nwithout foundation, both from the tenor of your lordship's present\nletter, and from a letter of yours delivered to me by Mons. Calvet, and\nwhich is wrote in the usual friendly strain that had so long subsisted\nbetween us. But not doubting at that time of Mr. Murray's story, I\ndreaded the consequence of a pamphlet composed and published by one of\nyour lordship's temper in a fit of rage, on a subject where you are\nnaturally heated. I knew that it would be full of expressions of the\nutmost acrimony, which you yourself could not forgive, even were I\ndisposed to do so; and I may now add, that this last letter proves you\nto be an excellent proficient in that style. I wrote my letter in a\nspirit of cordiality and amity, that I might prevent a rupture most\ndisagreeable to me. I have no objection to the publishing any thing in\nopposition to my opinions. On the contrary, there is nothing I desire\nmore than these discussions. I was far from threatening your lordship\nwith the loss of my friendship, which I was sensible could never be of\nany consequence to you: I only foretold with infinite regret, that if\nyou wrote against me in a heat, without allowing your temper to compose\nitself, it would be impossible for us to be any longer friends. I\nemployed every pathetic, every engaging sentiment and expression to\ninduce your lordship to embrace this way of thinking. I shall venture to\nsay, that you have never in your life received a more friendly and more\nobliging letter. I leave your lordship to judge of the return it has met\nwith.\n\n\"I composed my letter with great care, because I set a value on your\nlordship's friendship. I was so much satisfied with it myself, that I\nread it to a friend, who told me, that it would be impossible for your\nlordship to resist so many mollifying expressions, and that they would\ncertainly bring you back to our usual state of friendship. Under what\npower of fascination have your eyes lain, when you could see every thing\nin a light so directly opposite?\n\n\"I come now to the other ground of your complaint, my indifference in\nthe case of Mr. Murray. When I arrived in Paris, the first question he\nasked me was, whether Lord Bute or Mr. Stuart Mackenzie had recommended\nhim to Lord Hertford, that he might be received in the ambassador's\nhouse like other British subjects. I asked my lord, who told me that\nneither of these persons had ever mentioned Mr. Murray to him; he wished\nthey had; he desired to show all manner of civilities to Mr. Murray. But\nhe was afraid, that a person against whom a public proclamation had\nbeen issued, and who had openly lived so many years with the Pretender,\ncould not be received in his house, unless he had previously received\nsome assurances, that the matter would give no offence. I told this to\nMr Murray. He was entirely satisfied. He only said that he would write\nagain to Mr. Stuart Mackenzie, who never wrote to Lord Hertford. In this\naffair, then, Mr. Murray received all the favour which he either desired\nor expected.\n\n\"But perhaps your lordship means, that I ought to have befriended him in\nhis law-suit with Mrs. Blake,--I suppose, by taking his part in company.\nBut who told you that I did not? I have frequently desired people in\ngeneral to suspend their judgment; for as to any particular\njustification of him, I was not capable of it, because I was and still\nam ignorant of all particulars of his story. Whence could I learn them?\nFrom himself, or from his antagonist, or from both? I assure your\nlordship that I was otherwise employed, and more to my satisfaction,\nthan in unravelling an intricate story, which the Parliament of Paris\ncould not clear up in much less than two years, and which, it is\npretended, they have not cleared up at last.\n\n\"But I need say no more on this head, since your brother a few days\nafter I wrote you sent me a letter, in which he asked pardon for his\nformer letter, acknowledged his error, and desired a return of my\nfriendship. His only ground of quarrel, indeed, was a small negligence\nin returning his visits: an offence which, operating on a man of his\nvanity, has engaged him to do all this mischief.\n\n\"I have said that your lordship never received a letter more friendly\nand obliging than my former letter: I hope you will also acknowledge\nthat this is wrote with sufficient temper and moderation. Adieu.\n\n\"I have the honour to be, with the greatest regard and consideration, my\nlord, your lordship's most obedient, and most humble servant.\"[260:1]\n\n\nLORD ELIBANK _to_ HUME.\n\n     _Balancrief, July 9th, 1765._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I have the pleasure to understand, by yours of the\n     ----, that I have never been altogether in disgrace with you;\n     I choose rather to pass for dull as mad, and it would have\n     been the highest proof of the latter, if I had taken any thing\n     ill of you, that I had not thought ill meant.\n\n     I own the compliment you say you intended me in your former\n     letter, was too refined for my genius. I really mistook it for\n     an intention to break with me; and as there is hardly any\n     thing I set a greater value on than your friendship, and I was\n     not conscious of having ever entertained a single idea\n     inconsistent with it, I could not resign it without pain and\n     resentment. Diffident of myself, I showed your letter to\n     several of our common friends, who all understood it as I did.\n     Had my affection for you been more moderate, my answer to\n     yours would have been cool in proportion. I am still mortified\n     to think you could suspect me of siding with my brother\n     against you. I know the distinction between relationship and\n     friendship. I have ever thought those connexions incompatible;\n     and if I was dull enough to mistake the meaning of your\n     letter, I have not more reason to blush, than you have for\n     suspecting, that any thing my brother could say, was capable\n     of influencing my sincere regard for a friend of thirty years'\n     standing, or that my zeal for the reputation of any prince,\n     dead or alive, could draw any sentiment or expression from me,\n     inconsistent with that admiration of your talents, as an\n     author, and merit as a man, I have constantly felt in myself,\n     and endeavoured to excite in others. I am, dear sir, your\n     sincerely obedient humble servant,\n\n                                             ELIBANK.[260:2]\n\nIn fear lest the two letters to Elliot, printed above,[261:1] might not\nhave reached their destination, Hume wrote to him again on 17th\nNovember, repeating the substance of his engagement with the Abb\u00e9\nChoquart. The remainder of the letter follows:\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"As soon as I came from Fontainbleau, I went to the Pension Militaire,\nso it is called, where I had first a conversation with the Abb\u00e9. I found\nhim exceedingly pleased with your boys: he told me that whenever his two\nyoung pupils arrived, he called together all the French gentlemen, who\nare to the number of thirty or thirty-two, and he made them a harangue;\nhe then said to them, that they were all men of quality, to be educated\nto the honourable profession of arms; that all their wars would probably\nbe with England; that France and that kingdom, were Rome and Carthage,\nwhose rivality more properly than animosity never allowed long intervals\nof peace; that the chance of arms might make them prisoners of arms to\nMessrs Elliot, in which case it would be a happiness to them to meet a\nprivate friend in a public enemy; that he knew many instances of people\nwhose lives were saved by such fortunate events, and it therefore became\nthem, from views of prudence, and from the generosity for which the\nFrench nation was so renowned, to give the best treatment to the young\nstrangers, whose friendship might probably endure, and be serviceable to\nthem through life: he added, that the effect of this harangue was such,\nthat, as soon as he presented your boys to their companions, they all\nflew to them and embraced them, and have ever since continued to pay\nthem all courtship and regard, and to show them every mark of\npreference. Every one is ambitious to acquire the friendship of the two\nyoung Englishmen, who have already formed connexions more intimate than\never I observed among his other pupils. '_Ce que j'admire_,' added he,\n'_dans vos jeunes amis est qu'ils ont non seulement de l'esprit, mais de\nl'\u00e2me. Ils sont v\u00e9ritablement attendris des t\u00e9moinages d'amiti\u00e9 qu'on\nleur rend. Ils m\u00e9ritent d'\u00eatre aim\u00e9s, parce qu'ils savent aimer._'\n\n\"When I came next to converse with your boys, I found all this\nrepresentation exactly just: I believe they never passed fourteen days\nin their life so happily as they did the last. What I find strikes them\nmuch is the high titles of their companions: there is not one, says\nHugh, that is not a marquis, or count, or chevalier at least. They are\nindeed all of them of the best families in France, a nephew of M. de\nChoiseul, two nephews of M. de Beninghen, &c. &c. They are frequently\ndrawn out, and displayed after the Prussian manner. I saw them go\nthrough their exercises with the greatest exactness and best air. The\nAbb\u00e9 remarked to me, that the marching, and wheeling, and moving under\narms, is better than all the dancing schools in the world to give a\nnoble carriage to youth. Gilbert is such a proficient, that the master\nis thinking already of advancing him to the first rank, if not of making\nhim a corporal: all this is excellent for Hugh, and if Gilbert's head be\na little too full with military ideas, this inconvenience will easily be\ncorrected, as far as it ought to be corrected.\n\n\"The Abb\u00e9 tells me, that in the short time they have been with him,\ntheir accent is sensibly corrected, and he is persuaded that, in three\nmonths' time, it will not be possible to distinguish them from\nFrenchmen. They are never to hear mass, but to attend at the\nambassador's chapel every Sunday. Such is the general account I have to\ngive you; their preceptor will be more particular, and I shall visit\nthem from time to time.\"[263:1]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[209:1] The confidence with which the great aristocracy of birth mingled\nwith whatever elements it thought fit, is perhaps the best evidence of\nthe security it felt in the haughty and arbitrary exercise of its\nestablished privileges. With all this free equality of social\nintercourse, however, there must have been something yet left to which\nthe mere guest was not admitted, and to which he never aspired. Without\nthis, it seems impossible that Actors,--menials by the etiquette of the\ncourt, anathematized by the church, held incapable of giving evidence in\nsome courts of law as persons of infamous profession,--should have been\nso much sought after and caressed. Thus the Le Kains, Fleurys, and\nPr\u00e9villes, among the men; the Sophy Arnoulds, Dumesnils, Clairons, among\nthe women, many of them thorough profligates, are to be found haunting\nplaces surrounded by the highest lustre of adventitious rank, busying\nthemselves with state secrets, mingling in family disputes, and always\nwith the easy assurance of their profession. This state of matters could\nnot have existed unless the aristocracy, notwithstanding the ease with\nwhich they permitted themselves to be approached, were able effectually\nto mark precisely the point where the advance was to stop, and could\nfeel themselves among persons, who, like old family servants, never\npresume upon familiarity. In admitting to social intercourse, however, a\nperson of Hume's dignity of character and position in literature, there\ncould be no such reserves, and the intercourse must have been as really\non terms of familiarity as it appeared to be.\n\n[211:1] The following is a specimen, of a letter to Hume:--\n\n[Illustration]\n\nAmong other like distinctions, an author had offered to dedicate to her\nhis Italian Grammar. She answered, \"A moi, Monsieur; la d\u00e9dicace d'une\ngrammaire! \u00e0 moi qui ne sais pas seulement l'orthographe.\" \"C'\u00e9tait la\npure v\u00e9rit\u00e9,\" subjoins Marmontel.\n\n[213:1] This active lady visited Voltaire, and succeeded in getting\naccess to him. It is said that the patriarch laboured hard to compose a\nquatrain in her praise, but that the muse would not attend for such a\npurpose. He solved the difficulty very ingeniously, by twisting some\nlaurel twigs into a wreath, and placing it on her brow.\n\nShe writes to Hume, on 27th September, 1764, \"Je vous pr\u00e9sente monsieur\nun receuil de mes ouvrages nouvellement imprim\u00e9 \u00e0 Lyon, pour avoir\nl'honneur d'\u00eatre dans la biblioth\u00e8que d'un homme qui fait l'honneur de\nnotre si\u00e8cle. Je vous supplie d'accepter ce faible don, et de vouloir\nbien faire passer le paquet que vous trouverez c'y joint au Marquis\nCaraccioli Ministre de Naples \u00e0 Londres.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[214:1] The following note shows that there was some intercourse between\nthem, though it was probably not very extensive.\n\n\"Madame la D. de Choiseul a tr\u00e8s bien re\u00e7u les compliments de Mr. Hume.\nElle se reproche de ne lui avoir point \u00e9crit. Elle m'a charg\u00e9e de lui\ndire que s'il vouloit la venir voir aujourd'hui sur le midi et demy une\nheure[214:A] qu'il lui feroit beaucoup de plaisir. Madame du Deffand\nl'exhorte de ne pas manquer \u00e0 y aller, et elle le prie de faire souvenir\nMadame de Choiseul de la promesse qu'elle lui a faite de la venir voir\navant la visite qu'elle veut rendre \u00e0 Madame L'Ambassadrice.\"--MS.\nR.S.E.\n\n     [214:A] Sic in MS.\n\n[214:2] \"Vous me faites un grand plaisir de m'apprendre que David Hume\nva en Ecosse; je suis bien aise que vous ne soyez plus \u00e0 port\u00e9e de le\nvoir, et moi ravie de l'assurance de ne le revoir jamais. Vous me\ndemanderez ce qu'il m'a fait? Il m'a d\u00e9plu. Ha\u00efssant les idoles je\nd\u00e9teste leurs pr\u00eatres et leurs adorateurs. Pour d'idoles, vous n'en\nverrez pas chez moi: vous y pourrez voir quelquefois de leurs\nadorateurs, mais qui sont plus hypocrites que d\u00e9vots; leur culte est\next\u00e9rieur; les pratiques, les c\u00e9r\u00e9monies de cette religion sont des\nsoupers, des musiques, des op\u00e9ras, des com\u00e9dies, etc.\" Letters of the\nMarquise du Deffand, vol. i. p. 331.\n\n[216:1]\n\n     \"C'est avec la plus grande joie que M. D'Angiviller a\n     l'honneur d'informer Monsr. Hume que la philosophie n'a plus\n     de larmes \u00e0 r\u00e9pandre. D'Alembert est comme hors d'affaire. Il\n     a \u00e9t\u00e9 transport\u00e9 chez Watelet. Il s'en trouve fort bien: il\n     plaisante, il dit de bons mots et s'impatiente. Tout cela est\n     de bon augure. Duclos a dit assez plaisamment le jour que l'on\n     a transport\u00e9 le malade chez Watelet. Voicy un jour\n     remarquable, c'est aujourd'huy que l'on a sevr\u00e9 D'Alembert;\n     nous sommes surs au moins qu'il n'y a pas de miracle \u00e0 cette\n     gu\u00e9rison; les pr\u00eatres n'ont pas pri\u00e9 pour lui. Mr.\n     D'Angiviller a l'honneur d'assurer Monsieur Hume de\n     l'attachement profond et de la v\u00e9n\u00e9ration dont il est p\u00e9n\u00e9tr\u00e9\n     pour lui.\"\n\n     \"_Ce Mardi 30._\"\n\nThe Earl Marischal writes thus:--\n\n     \"_Potsdam, 11th September, 1764._\n\n     \"Le plaisir de votre lettre, et l'assurance d'amiti\u00e9 de Madame\n     Geoffrin et de Monsieur D'Alembert a \u00e9t\u00e9 bien rabattu par ce\n     que vous me dites de l'\u00e9tat de la sant\u00e9 de M. D'Alembert.\n     Sobre comme il est \u00e0 table--comment peut-il avoir des maux\n     d'estomac? Il faut qu'il travaille trop de la t\u00eate \u00e0 des\n     calculs, ou qu'il allume sa chandelle par les deux bouts.\n     C'est cela sans doute. Renvoyez-le ici \u00e0 mon hermitage. Je le\n     rendrai \u00e0 sa, ou ses belles, frais, repos\u00e9, se portant \u00e0\n     merveille.\n\n     \"Apropos de mon hermitage dont M. de Malsan vous a fait la\n     description, il a voyag\u00e9 avec Panurge, et a \u00e9t\u00e9 chez _oui-dire\n     tenant \u00e9cole de temorgnerie_. Primo, ma petite maison ne\n     subsiste pas--par cons\u00e9quence mon grand h\u00f4te ne pouvoit m'y\n     honorer de sa pr\u00e9sence. 2do, Elle ne sera pas si petite, ayant\n     89 pieds de fa\u00e7ade avec deux ailes de 45 pieds de long. Le\n     jardin est petit, assez grand cependant pour moi, et j'ai une\n     clef pour entrer aux jardins de Sans-Souci. Il y aura une\n     belle salle avec un vestibule, et un cabinet assez grand pour\n     y mettre un lit, tout apart des autres apartements. Si\n     D'Alembert venoit, il pouroit y loger, et prendre les eaux;\n     mais il est peu-que probable, que le grand h\u00f4te me\n     disputeroit, et emporteroit cet avantage. En attendant son\n     arriv\u00e9e, j'y logerai mon ancien ami Michel de Montaigne,\n     Ariosto, Voltaire, Swift, et quelques autres.\n\n     \"Dites \u00e0 D'Alembert que j'ai une vache pour lui donner de bon\n     lait. Cela le contentera plus que les cent mille roubles qu'on\n     lui a offert. N'a pas bon lait qui veut, et vir sapiens non\n     abhorrebit eam, comme disoit Ma\u00eetre Janotus de ses chausses.\"\n\n[218:1] If we are to trust the story told by Marmontel, and repeated by\nothers who should be equally well informed, her conduct, put in plain\nlanguage, comes to this. That she had made up her mind to raise her\nposition by a distinguished marriage. That in this view, looking to one\nobject after another, she finally determined boldly to experiment on M.\nMora, the son of the Spanish ambassador. That as this young gentleman\nhad been recalled by his family to Spain, she fraudulently procured a\ncertificate from an eminent physician, to the effect that a return to\nthe climate of France was essential to his safety; and that he died on\nhis journey back. But not less singular than the tale itself, is the\ngood-humoured simplicity with which it is told, as something rather\ncommendable than otherwise. Marmontel tells it, not omitting to state\nhow he used to run to the post-office for M. Mora's letters, in the\nmidst of that amusing series of sketches, the leading charm of which is\ntheir amiable author's utter unconsciousness that his narrative is ever\nlikely to be scrutinized by people so educated and trained, as to look\nupon his pleasant frailties as detestable vices, and the whole system of\nsociety, so loveable and interesting in his eyes, as hideous. These\nthings indeed are mysteries; and read and ponder as we may, we cannot\nenter into their spirit, but must view them as strange, distant, and\nunnatural objects.\n\nThere is reason, however, to believe, that Marmontel's account of\nL'Espinasse is far from being accurate. See the article on Deffand's and\nL'Espinasse's letters, in _The Edinburgh Review_, vol. xv. p. 459,\nwhere, as also in the article, vol. xvii. p. 290, a fuller view of the\ncharacter of the French literary circles of that day will be found than\nany where else in the English language. The doubts of Marmontel's\naccuracy in the former of these articles, are singularly confirmed by\nthe Memoires of Marmontel's uncle-in-law, Morellet, published in 1832,\nsee vol. ii. p. 276.\n\n[220:1] Memoirs of Romilly, i. 179. I have seen this anecdote in some\nFrench book, but do not remember where.\n\n[221:1] Madame de Genlis has preserved an instance of the magnificent\ngallantry of the prince. Madame Blot, the same lady probably who\noccupies so curious a place in the Chesterfield correspondence,\nexpressed a wish to have a picture of her canary-bird set in a ring. The\nprince desired to have the felicity of accomplishing her wish, and she\nconsented, provided the ring were of plain gold without ornament. The\nring when it made its appearance was plain indeed, but the portrait was\ncovered by a large diamond cut flat like glass. Madame Blot preserved\nthe ring and the picture, but returned the diamond. The prince pounded\nthe diamond to powder, and wrote the lady a letter strewed with the\ndiamond dust as drying sand.\n\n[221:2] The following specimen of the invitations which poured in upon\nHume during his sojourn in Paris, is a slight departure from the usual\nreceived form of such documents, the functionary who had charge of the\ndespatches of the august entertainer having chosen to make it the\nvehicle of his own good taste in literature, and knowledge of the\nEnglish language.\n\n\"M. Le Prince Louis de Rohan prie M. Hume de lui faire l'honneur de\nvenir d\u00eener chez lui. Mardi, 17 Janvier--\"\n\n\"M. L'Abb\u00e9 Georgel fait un million de complimens \u00e0 M. Hume. _He makes\ngreat account of his works, admires her wit, and loves her person._\"\n\n\"Samedy, 14.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[222:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[223:1] Hardy's Memoirs of Charlemont, p. 122.\n\n[223:2] \"Ce qu'il y a encore de plaisant, c'est que toutes les jolies\nfemmes se le sont arrach\u00e9, et que le gros philosophe Ecossais s'est plu\ndans leur soci\u00e9t\u00e9. C'est un excellent homme, que David Hume; il est\nnaturellement serein, il entend finement, il dit quelquefois avec sel,\nquoiqu'il parle peu; mais il est lourd, il n'a ni chaleur, ni gr\u00e2ce, ni\nagr\u00e9ment dans l'esprit, ni rien qui soit propre \u00e0 s'allier au ramage de\nces charmantes petites machines qu'on appelle jolies femmes. O que nous\nsommes un dr\u00f4le de peuple!\"--Correspondance Litt\u00e9raire, 1i\u00e8re P. vol. v.\np. 125.\n\n[224:1] \"Le c\u00e9l\u00e8bre David Hume, grand et gros historiographe\nd'Angleterre, connu et estim\u00e9 par ses \u00e9crits, n'a pas autant de talens\npour ce genre d'amusemens auquel toutes nos jolies femmes l'avoient\nd\u00e9cid\u00e9 propre. Il fit son d\u00e9but chez Madame de T----; on lui avoit\ndestin\u00e9 le r\u00f4le d'un Sultan assis entre deux esclaves, employant toute\nson \u00e9loquence pour s'en faire aimer; les trouvant inexorables, il devoit\nchercher le sujet de leurs peines, et de leur r\u00e9sistance: on le place\nsur un sopha entre les deux plus jolies femmes de Paris, il les regarde\nattentivement, il se frappe le ventre et les genoux \u00e0 plusieurs\nreprises, et ne trouve jamais autre chose \u00e0 leur dire que: '_Eh bien!\nmes demoiselles...Eh bien! vous voil\u00e0 donc...Eh bien! vous voil\u00e0...vous\nvoil\u00e0 ici?_' Cette phrase dura un quart d'heure, sans qu'il p\u00fbt en\nsortir. Une d'elles se leva d'impatience: Ah! dit elle, je m'en \u00e9tois\nbien dout\u00e9e, cet homme n'est bon qu'\u00e0 manger du veau! Depuis ce temps il\nest rel\u00e9gu\u00e9 au r\u00f4le de spectateur, et n'en est pas moins f\u00eat\u00e9 et cajol\u00e9.\nC'est en v\u00e9rit\u00e9 une chose plaisante que le r\u00f4le qu'il joue ici;\nmalheureusement pour lui ou plut\u00f4t pour la dignit\u00e9 philosophique, car,\npour lui, il paro\u00eet s'accommoder fort de ce train de vie; il n'y avoit\naucune manie dominante dans ce pays lorsqu'il y est arriv\u00e9; on l'a\nregard\u00e9 comme une trouvaille dans cette circonstance, et l'effervescence\nde nos jeunes t\u00eates s'est tourn\u00e9 de son c\u00f4t\u00e9. Toutes les jolies femmes\ns'en sont empar\u00e9es; il est de tous les soupers fins, et il n'est point\nde bonne f\u00eate sans lui; en un mot, il est pour nos agr\u00e9ables ce que les\nG\u00e9nevois sont pour moi.\"--M\u00e9moires et Correspondance de Madame d'Epinay,\nvol. iii. p. 284.\n\n[225:1] Letters, collected edition, v. 69.\n\n[225:2] Ib. 73.\n\n[225:3] Ib. 77.\n\n[226:1] Ib. 90-91. He was not then aware that Hume's presence was\ndestined to afford him an opportunity of becoming \"the mode\" himself.\nThis he tells us was the effect of his jeu d'esprit on Rousseau, with\nwhich we shall hereafter have concern; and he tells it in a manner which\nshows that, however contemptible when set in the brow of David Hume, the\nchaplet of fashionable renown was not felt to be unbecoming on his own.\nThus, he says to Mr. Conway, on 12th January, 1766, \"I almost repent\nhaving come hither, for I like the way of life and many of the people so\nwell, that I doubt I shall feel more regret at leaving Paris than I\nexpected. It would sound vain to tell you the honours and distinctions I\nreceive, and how much I am in fashion. Yet when they come from the\nhandsomest women in France, and the most respectable in point of\ncharacter, can one help being a little proud? If I was twenty years\nyounger, I should wish they were not quite so respectable. Madame de\nBrionne, whom I have never seen, and who was to have met me at supper\nlast night, at the charming Madame D'Egmont's, sent me an invitation by\nthe latter for Wednesday next. I was engaged and hesitated: I was told,\n'Comment! savez-vous que c'est qu'elle ne feroit pas pour toute La\nFrance.' However, lest you should dread my returning a perfect old\nswain, I study my wrinkles, compare myself and my limbs to every plate\nof larks I see, and treat my understanding with at least as little\nmercy. Yet, do you know, my present fame is owing to a very trifling\ncomposition, but which has made incredible noise. I was one evening at\nMadame Geoffrin's, joking on Rousseau's affectations and contradictions,\nand said some things that diverted them. When I came home I put them\ninto a letter, and showed it next day to Helvetius, and the Duke de\nNivernois, who were so pleased with it, that, after telling me some\nfaults in the language, which you may be sure there were, they\nencouraged me to let it be seen. As you know I willingly laugh at\nmountebanks, political or literary, let their talents be ever so great,\nI was not averse. The copies have spread like wildfire, _et me voici \u00e0\nla mode_. I expect the end of my reign, at the end of the week, with\ngreat composure.\" (Ib. 118-119.)\n\nOne is tempted to give, as part of the whole picture of the visit of the\ntwo Englishmen, a few of Walpole's notices of his own intense modesty.\nThus: \"I had had my share of distresses in the morning, by going through\nthe operation of being presented to the royal family, down to the little\nmadame's pap dinner, and had behaved as sillily as you will easily\nbelieve, hiding myself behind every mortal. The queen called me up to\nher dressing-table, and seemed mightily disposed to gossip with me; but\ninstead of enjoying my glory like Madame de S\u00e9vign\u00e9, I slunk back into\nthe crowd after a few questions. She told Monsieur de Guerchy of it\nafterwards, and that I had run away from her, but said she would have\nher revenge at Fontainbleau; so I must go thither, which I did not\nintend.\" Ib. 81-82. So when writing to Gray, after giving a description\nof the effect which his wicked wit had produced on Madame de Boufflers\nand the Prince of Conti, how she \"with a tone of sentiment, and the\naccents of lamenting humanity, abused me heartily, and then complained\nto myself with the utmost softness,\" and how he \"acted contrition, but\nhad like to have spoiled all, by growing dreadfully tired of a second\nlecture from the Prince of Conti, who had taken up the tale;\" he\nconcludes, \"but when I left a triumphant party in England, I did not\ncome hither to be at the head of a fashion. However, I have been sent\nfor about like an African prince or a learned canary bird; and was, in\nparticular, carried by force to the Princess of Talmond, the queen's\ncousin, who lives in a charitable apartment in the Luxembourg, and was\nsitting on a small bed hung with saints and Sobieskis, in a corner of\none of those vast chambers, by two blinking tapers.\" (Ib. 130-131.)\n\nHume's simple and self-satisfied account of the distinctions conferred\non him, and the gratification they afforded him, has met with\nconsiderable ridicule. But the reader may judge for himself which is the\nmore honest, manly, and dignified: the plain acknowledgment of\ndistinctions conferred and appreciated, or this hollow profession of\ncontempt for unsolicited, unexpected, unenjoyed honours.\n\n[228:1] MS. R.S.E. The Sir James alludes to Sir James Macdonald.\n\n[229:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[230:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[231:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[233:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[233:2] The elder of the youths here mentioned, who became afterwards an\neminent statesman, was born in 1751. He was for some time attached to\nthe Fox party, and after the dissolution of the Fox and North coalition\nministry, he was twice unsuccessfully proposed as Speaker. In 1793, he\nwas selected for the delicate duty of negotiating with the French\nRoyalists. During the British sovereignty of Corsica, in 1794, he was\nappointed viceroy or governor of the island. But the most brilliant and\nthe best known chapter in his political career, is his policy as\nGovernor-general of India, from 1807 to 1814. He was created Baron Minto\nin 1797, and Earl of Minto in 1813. He died in 1814.\n\n[234:1] Probably either the young Comte de Boufflers, the son of the\nlady who was Hume's correspondent, or Sir James Macdonald.\n\n[235:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[237:1] Among Hume's papers there is a letter signed \"De Bastide, auteur\nd'un Maison d'\u00c9ducation,\" thanking him for the favourable disposition\nshown towards him, and desiring an interview.\n\n[238:1] In allusion to the interest taken by the Comtesse de Boufflers\nin his being appointed secretary of legation. See _postea_.\n\n[239:1] Minto MSS. The tone of this letter extracted the following\ncriticism from Elliot.\n\n\"So you did not permit your friend to write the long intended letter.\nYour reason for this, I must own, is not to me a satisfactory one. If\nthe secretaryship were now actually vacant, it would of course devolve\nupon you; nor would the interposition of your friends be necessary. It\nis Mr. Bunbury's provision then, and not yours, which constitutes the\ndifficulty: he happens to be in possession; his alliance and his\nconnexions are considerable; and the difficulty of his re-election makes\nit less easy than it would otherwise be to find an equivalent for him.\nYet if it could be found, it is impossible to conceive that he would not\nwillingly exchange a situation, the functions of which are performed by\nanother, and which he holds contrary to the inclination of his\nprincipal. In such a state of things, I cannot help thinking, that a\nlively representation of your case, from the warm and persuasive pen of\nyour friend, is the most likely circumstance to engage the active genius\nof the D. of B. to rouse government from their indolence about finding\nor creating some proper arrangement for Mr. Bunbury. Lord Holland will\nprobably join his influence, and Lord Tavistock, even on his new\nfriend's account, will most certainly concur. This joint operation,\nsupported by the justice of your claims, and the application of your\nfriends, seems to me the most infallible method to surmount the real\ndifficulty, which you have candour enough to admit stands in the way of\nadministration, though disposed to do you justice. If to all this you\nobject certain delicacies in your own mind, and a disdain to solicit\nwhat ought to be bestowed, I can only answer, a British minister is at\nall times so much the slave of those who are not his friends, that his\nbest friends are almost always obliged to extort justice to themselves\nby methods often hostile, always indelicate. I write to you popularly,\nnot as a philosopher. I desire, therefore, that your objections to my\ndoctrine may be in the same tone; and, after all, why should you, like\nthe plaintive author of 'Emile,' indulge yourself in a pleasing kind of\nindignation, as if your countrymen had some unaccountable satisfaction\nin mortifying a man, who feels so very different treatment even from\nstrangers. Notwithstanding all you say, we are both Englishmen; that is,\ntrue British subjects, entitled to every emolument and advantage that\nour happy constitution can bestow. Do not you speak and write and\npublish what you please? and though attacking favourite and popular\nopinions, are you not in the confidential friendship of Lord Hertford,\nand intrusted with the most important national concerns? Am not I, a\nmember of Parliament, as much at liberty to abuse ministers and\nadministration, as if I had been born in Wapping, or to support them if\nI think proper? Had it not been for the clamour of _a Scott_, perhaps\nindeed I might have been in some more active, but not more honourable or\nlucrative situation. This clamour we all know is merely artificial and\noccasional. It will in time give way to some other, equally absurd and\nill-founded, when you, if you will, may become a bishop, and I a\nminister. In the mean time, let us make the best of our present\ncircumstances; I as treasurer of the chamber, you as the idol of\nwhatever is fair and learned at Paris. About the beginning of December I\nwill be at London, ready to assist your operations if you will follow my\nadvice. Yours,\" &c. MS. R.S.E.\n\n[241:1] It will be seen that the letter had arrived safely.\n\n[243:1] Minto MS. The remainder of the letter is wanting.\n\n[245:1] Minto MSS. On 19th October, Mr. Elliot writes,--\n\n     \"I am too well acquainted with your friendly disposition to be\n     at all surprised at the trouble you have so successfully taken\n     about my boys. You will, however, allow me to admire your\n     punctuality in sending me three letters all differently\n     addressed. The short one for this place is the only one come\n     to hand. I am impatient, on every account but what regards the\n     establishment of the boys, for the long one sent to London. I\n     act with implicit faith upon your short mandate; and if I\n     could have entertained any doubt, the name of Madame Mirepoix,\n     you very well know, was more than sufficient to remove it.\"\n\nOn 6th November, he is able to say,--\n\n     \"I have at length received all your letters; the one intrusted\n     to Lord March, the other wrote on the supposition of its being\n     lost, and a third dated October 9th. They all came on the same\n     day, and so late as the 24th of October. The two boys and\n     their tutor, Mr. Liston, are now, I presume, settled at Paris.\n     They had a letter for you. I had luckily directed them, if\n     they found nobody at the Hotel de Brancas, to inquire for a\n     Pension opposite to the Mar\u00e9chale de Mirepoix.\" (MS. R.S.E.)\n\n[251:1] Private Correspondence, p. 112, _et seq._\n\n[252:1] \"But there is a person that has written an \"Inquiry, historical\nand critical, into the evidence against Mary Queen of Scots;\" and has\nattempted to refute the foregoing narrative. He quotes a single passage\nof the narrative, in which Mary is said simply to refuse answering; and\nthen a single passage from Goodall, in which she boasts simply that she\nwill answer; and he very civilly and almost directly, calls the author a\nliar, on account of this pretended contradiction. The whole inquiry,\nfrom beginning to end, is composed of such scandalous artifices; and,\nfrom this instance, the reader may judge of the candour, fair dealing,\nveracity, and good manners of the inquirer. There are, indeed, three\nevents in our history which may be regarded as the touchstone of party\nmen. An English Whig, who asserts the reality of the Popish plot; an\nIrish Catholic, who denies the massacre in 1641: and a Scotch Jacobite,\nwho maintains the innocence of Queen Mary, must be considered as men\nbeyond the reach of argument or reason, and must be left to their\nprejudices.\"\n\n[252:2] There is no address on the MS., but circumstances show the\nletter to have been intended for Lord Elibank.\n\n[253:1] These references are to the first edition of the \"History of the\nHouse of Tudor.\"\n\n[256:1] Scroll MS. R.S.E. A faint line is drawn through the concluding\nparagraph, and the passage may have been omitted in the letter as\ntransmitted.\n\n[260:1] Scroll, MS. R.S.E.\n\n[260:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[261:1] See pp. 240, 244.\n\n[263:1] Minto MSS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n1765-1766. \u00c6t. 54-55.\n\n     Hume's Sentiments as to the Popularity of his works--A letter\n     to the Scottish Clergy--Correspondence with Elliot continued--\n     Sir Robert Liston--Mallet--Hume appointed Secretary of\n     Legation--Charg\u00e9 d'Affaires at Paris--Proposal to appoint him\n     Secretary for Ireland--Reasons of the Failure of the Project--\n     Lord Hertford--Resumption of Communication with Rousseau--\n     Rousseau in Paris--Notices of his History and Character--\n     Hume's solicitude for his welfare--Return to Britain--Disposal\n     of Rousseau--Death of Jardine.\n\n\nAllusion has occasionally been made to the difficulty of satisfying Hume\nwith any amount of literary success. His correspondence with Millar is a\nlong grumble about the prejudices he has had to encounter, and their\ninfluence on the circulation of his works; while the bookseller, by the\nmost glowing pictures of their popularity, is only able to elicit a\npartial gleam of content. The success of the History made worthy Mr.\nMillar very anxious that it should be continued, and Hume for a time\nacquiesced in the proposal. There is a letter from Millar on the 26th\nOctober, enlarging on the great and rapid sales: about 2500 complete\nsets of the quarto edition, and upwards of 3000 of the \"History of the\nStuarts,\" had been sold, along with near 2000 of the 8vo. edition. In\ncontinuation he says:\n\n     The Essays, 8vo, were only published in May; what has been\n     sold of them, of all the different editions, I cannot\n     recollect. I was asked that question at St. James's the other\n     day, when I said, I considered your works as classics, that I\n     never numbered the editions, as I did in books we wished to\n     puff. This I said before many clergy. I am not a little\n     surprised to see one of your excellent understanding and merit\n     so anxious about the sale, when the booksellers entirely\n     concerned never complained, but on the contrary would be ready\n     to give you to your utmost wish any encouragement to proceed\n     in your History; and in truth, considering the number of\n     enemies, some particular Essays have risen from _interest_,\n     bigotry, folly, and knavery, not less than a one hundred\n     thousand, it is rather astonishing your works have sold so\n     much. While _men_ are _men_ this is to be expected, and you\n     are the last man I should ever thought could paid the least\n     attention to such things.[264:1]\n\nOn this Hume says:\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_Paris, 14th January, 1765._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I am much obliged to you for your last letter, which is very\nfriendly, and I shall not fail to pay the proper attention to it. The\ntruth is, as I intend to continue my History, I could not possibly have\ntaken a more proper step than to pay a visit to this country, and to\nmake acquaintance here; for as France and England are so intermixed in\nall transactions since the Revolution, the history of one country must\nthrow light upon the other; and I am now in a situation to have access\nto all the families which have papers relative to public affairs\ntransacted in the end of the last and beginning of this century. The\nreason why I was anxious to know the sale of my History, was, that I\nmight judge whether I could expect equal access and information in\nEngland. The rage and prejudice of parties frighten me; and above all,\nthis rage against the Scots, which is so dishonourable, and indeed so\ninfamous to the English nation. We hear that it increases every day\nwithout the least appearance of provocation on our part. It has\nfrequently made me resolve never in my life to set foot on English\nground. I dread, if I should undertake a more modern history, the\nimpertinence and ill manners to which it would expose me; and I was\nwilling to know from you whether former prejudices had so far subsided\nas to ensure me of a good reception.\"[265:1]\n\n\nThe following very characteristic paper, which appears to have been\nenclosed to Dr. Blair, needs no introduction.\n\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I am in debt to all my friends in letters, and shall ever\nbe so. But what strikes me chiefly with remorse, are my great and\nenormous debts to the clergy. By this my neglect of my Protestant\npastors, you will begin to suspect that I am turning Papist. But to\nacquit myself at once, allow me to write you a common letter, and to\naddress a few words to every one of you.\n\n\nDR. ROBERTSON.\n\n\"Your History has been very very well translated here, better than mine,\nas I am told. Its success has given me occasion to promise your\nacquaintance to several persons of distinction; the Duc de Nivernois,\nthe Marquis de Puysieuls, President H\u00e9nault, Baron D'Holbach, &c. I wish\nyou could speak French tolerably; you would find this place agreeable.\nThe Marechal Broglio spoke of you to me with esteem the other day.\n\n\nDR. CARLYLE.\n\n\"I consulted with the Chevalier Macdonald, (who, by the bye, is here in\ngreat vogue, not for his gallantries, like some others who shall be\nnameless, but for his parts and knowledge;) I say I consulted with the\nChevalier about writing a common letter to Eglinton in favour of Wilson.\nHe told me it would be quite useless. Eglinton would give that kirk and\nevery thing else to the tenth cousin of the tenth cousin of a voter in\nthe shire of Ayr, rather than to the most intimate friend he has in the\nworld. Je baise les mains de Madame Carlyle avec tout l'empressement\npossible.\n\n\nDR. FERGUSON.\n\n\"Who, by the bye, I believe is not a doctor, though highly worthy from\nhis piety and learning to be one; then Mr. Ferguson, I think I have\nnothing in particular to say to you, except that I am glad of the change\nof your class, because you desired it, and because it fitted Russell.\nFor otherwise I should have liked better the other science. The news of\nyour great success in teaching has reached me in Paris, and has given me\npleasure; but I fear for your health from all these sudden and violent\napplications. Ah, that you could learn something, dear Ferguson, of the\ncourteous, and caressing, and open manners of this country. I should not\nthen have been to learn for the first time, (as I did lately from\nGeneral Clark,) that you have not been altogether ungrateful to me, and\nthat you bear me some good will, and that you sometimes regret my\nabsence. Why should your method of living with me have borne so little\nthe appearance of those sentiments?\n\n\nDR. BLAIR.\n\n\"Many people who read English have got your dissertation on Fingal,\nwhich they admire extremely: a very good critic told me lately that it\nwas incomparably the best piece of criticism in the English language; a\nself-evident truth to me. I met also with many admirers of Fingal; but\nmany also doubt of its authenticity. The Chevalier Macdonald is of use\nto me in supporting the argument, from his personal knowledge of facts.\nI cannot, however, but allow that the whole is strange, passing strange.\n\n\"You seem to wish that I should give you some general accounts of this\ncountry. Shall I begin with the points in which it most differs from\nEngland, viz., the general regard paid to genius and learning; the\nuniversal and professed, though decent, gallantry to the fair sex; or\nthe almost universal contempt of all religion among both sexes, and\namong all ranks of men? Or shall I mention the points in which the\nFrench begin to concur with the English,--their love of liberty, for\ninstance? Or shall I give you some remarkable anecdotes of the great men\nwho, at present, adorn French literature? Perhaps you would wish me to\nrun over all these topics successively. Alas! there is not one that\nwould not fill several sheets of paper with curious circumstances, and I\nam the most lazy writer of letters in the world: however, I must say\nsomething on these heads; and, first, of the first:--\n\n\"There is a very remarkable difference between London and Paris; of\nwhich I gave warning to Helv\u00e9tius, when he went over lately to England,\nand of which he told me, on his return, he was fully sensible. If a man\nhave the misfortune, in the former place, to attach himself to letters,\neven if he succeeds, I know not with whom he is to live, nor how he is\nto pass his time in a suitable society. The little company there that is\nworth conversing with, are cold and unsociable; or are warmed only by\nfaction and cabal; so that a man who plays no part in public affairs\nbecomes altogether insignificant; and, if he is not rich, he becomes\neven contemptible. Hence that nation are relapsing fast into the deepest\nstupidity and ignorance. But, in Paris, a man that distinguishes himself\nin letters, meets immediately with regard and attention. I found,\nimmediately on my landing here, the effects of this disposition. Lord\nBeauchamp told me that I must go instantly with him to the Duchess de la\nValieres.[268:1] When I excused myself, on account of dress, he told me\nthat he had her orders, though I were in boots. I accordingly went with\nhim in a travelling frock, where I saw a very fine lady reclining on a\nsofa, who made me speeches and compliments without bounds. The style of\npanegyric was then taken up by a fat gentleman, whom I cast my eyes\nupon, and observed him to wear a star of the richest diamonds;--it was\nthe Duke of Orleans. The Duchess told me she was engaged to sup in\nPresident H\u00e9nault's, but that she would not part with me;--I must go\nalong with her. The good president received me with open arms; and told\nme, among other fine things, that, a few days before, the Dauphin said\nto him, &c. &c. &c. Such instances of attention I found very frequent,\nand even daily. You ask me, if they were not very agreeable? I\nanswer--no; neither in expectation, possession, nor recollection. I left\nthat fireside, where you probably sit at present, with the greatest\nreluctance. After I came to London, my uneasiness, as I heard more of\nthe prepossessions of the French nation in my favour, increased; and\nnothing would have given me greater joy than any accident that would\nhave broke off my engagements. When I came to Paris, I repented heartily\nof having entered, at my years, on such a scene; and, as I found that\nLord Hertford had entertained a good opinion and good will for Andrew\nStuart, I spoke to Wedderburn, in order to contrive expedients for\nsubstituting him in my place. Lord Hertford thought, for some time, that\nI would lose all patience and would run away from him. But the faculty\nof speaking French returned gradually to me. I formed many acquaintance\nand some friendships. All the learned seemed to conspire in showing me\ninstances of regard. The great ladies were not wanting to a man so\nhighly in fashion: and, having now contracted the circle of my\nacquaintance, I live tolerably at my ease. I have even thoughts of\nsettling at Paris for the rest of my life; but I am sometimes frightened\nwith the idea that it is not a scene suited to the languor of old age. I\nthen think of retiring to a provincial town, or returning to Edinburgh,\nor ---- but it is not worth while to form projects about the matter.\nD'Alembert and I talk very seriously of taking a journey to Italy\ntogether; and, if Lord Hertford leave France soon, this journey may\nprobably have place.\n\n\"I began this letter about two months ago; but so monstrously indolent\nam I that I have not had time to finish it. I believe I had better send\nit off as it is. Tell Robertson that La Chapelle, his translator, is\nvery much out of humour, and with reason, for never hearing from him. I\nsuppose some letter has miscarried. I am, &c.[270:1]\n\n\"_Paris, 6th April, 1765._\"\n\n\nMr. Elliot had expressed to Hume a fear lest the longer residence of his\nsons in France might \"render them too much Frenchmen,\" while, speaking\nof their tutor, Mr. Liston,[270:2] he says, \"I own I am more\napprehensive of the consequences of a Paris life upon a young man of his\nage than upon the boys, who are too young to enter into the full\ndissipation of a country, where, not to be dissipated, is hardly to have\nany existence.\" On this Hume writes:\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Paris, 14th April, 1765._\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--I have always had the pleasure of conversing, from time\nto time, with your sons, with Mr. Liston, and with the Abb\u00e9 Choquart,\nand never found the least reason to alter the good opinion, which I had\nat first conceived of that academy, and of the conduct of every one\nconcerned: but the tenor of your last letter made me apprehend, that you\nhad discovered some ground of suspicion; and the more so as Mr. Larpent\ntold me, that you had spoke to his father, to desire him to request of\nhis son, that he should keep a watchful eye over the conduct of your\nsons, and of Mr. Liston, and inform him of all particulars. This it is\nimpossible for Larpent to do, and, indeed, impossible for me to do,\notherwise than by conversing with the Abb\u00e9 Choquart and with your sons\napart. I have done this very carefully, and find Mr. Liston's conduct\nnot only irreproachable, but laudable. The Abb\u00e9 tells me, that for the\nfirst three or four months, he scarce ever stirred out of the house, but\nconversed with him alone, and with the other masters, till he came to\nsuch perfection in the language, as to be taken for a Languedocian, or a\nFrenchman of some province. Since that time the Abb\u00e9 tells me, he has\nmade a few acquaintances among his countrymen, and goes out sometimes;\nbut he uses this liberty with great moderation; and on the whole, the\nAbb\u00e9 praises him (and with great reason as appears to me) for his\nreserve, his modesty, his good sense, his sobriety, and his virtue. As\nto your sons, he assures me, that though he has been employed nineteen\nyears in instructing youth, he never knew any more happily formed, and\nthey are the favourites of the whole school. The boys themselves seem to\nbe extremely happy in their present situation. Gilbert speaks French\nalmost like a Parisian, and Hugh follows fast after him. This is an\nadvantage they have acquired, without interrupting the course of their\nother studies. The sociableness of their disposition has been called\nforth, by living among companions in a public school; and as they praise\nvery much the civility and good humour of their fellow students, they\nmay themselves be the more confirmed in their habits. But, pray, come\nhither yourself and judge of the matter.\n\n\"Two or three days ago, Lord Hertford wrote a very earnest letter to Mr.\nGrenville in my favour. I know well that, if you find an opportunity,\nyou will second his application. The Saxon minister at the court, told\nmy lord, that Mr. Wroughton was soon to leave Dresden. My lord has\nproposed that Bunbury be sent thither: if he refuses, it will be a proof\nthat he is resolved to undertake no public service, but scandalously to\nlive at home, and enjoy a large salary, which should belong to another.\nSurely if Mr. Grenville bore me never so little good-will, as a supposed\nTory, he must allow this reasoning to be unanswerable.\n\n\"You have now with you Sir James Macdonald, who is too good for you, for\nI am afraid you will not know to value him. He leaves an universal\nregret behind him at Paris, among all who were acquainted with him, and\nin none more than myself. I am, dear sir, your faithful humble\nservant.\"[272:1]\n\n\nIn the following letter to Millar, we find Mallet and the Life of\nMarlborough, that had been promised and paid for, again the subject of\nspeculation. Hume, though he had at one time been induced to believe\nthat part of the work was written, seems to have on the whole indulged\nhimself in scepticism, which, in this case at least, was well founded.\nThe letter is dated 4th May.\n\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--As soon as I heard of poor Mallet's death,[273:1] my\ncuriosity was excited to know, whether he had really proceeded any\nlength in his work, or whether, as many people imagine, and as is\nsomewhat my opinion, he had never wrote a line nor taken a note with\nregard to it. I beg you would make some inquiry upon that subject. The\nwidow will be able to inform you. I should be glad to know whether any\nlights could be got from that quarter for the continuance of my\nwork.\"[273:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Paris, 12th May, 1765._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I went, on Wednesday last, to be present at the examination\nof the Abb\u00e9 Choquart's school, with which I was very well satisfied;\nespecially for the part your young folks had in it. There were several\npeople present who came to hear their children and relations; and when\nGilbert was going through some demonstrations of geometry, with a very\ngood grace, I asked some who sat next me, whether they could perceive\nhim to be a foreigner? They all declared that they could not; and were\nvery much surprised when I told them that he had not yet been in the\ncountry six months. Hugh retains still a little of a foreign accent, but\nit is wearing out gradually. Mr. Liston speaks so well as to be able to\npass himself for a Gascon!\n\n\"There was also one circumstance of your young gentlemen's behaviour\nwith which I was much pleased; but whether you will take the praise of\nit to yourself, or ascribe it partly to the imitation of French manners,\nI cannot determine. I arrived a little before the commencement of the\nexamination; and, walking into the garden, I took shelter, from the\nheat, under some trees. Your young gentlemen, as soon as they saw me,\nran and brought me a chair, which they placed carefully in the most\nshady spot they could find. I doubt this attention would not be very\ncommon among mere English schoolboys.\n\n\"Lord Hertford has received, from George Grenville, a final answer to a\nvery earnest, and very pressing letter he had wrote in my favour. Never\nwas any refusal so decisive, so cold, so positive, so determined; not\nthe least circumstance of apology, of good manners, or of regard: he\neven gives it as a reason why I cannot be appointed, because Sir Charles\nBunbury has never yet desired to change his situation. In short, the\nletter is so different from all letters usually wrote on such occasions,\nand so different from those which Mr. Grenville was accustomed to write\nto Lord Hertford, that my lord concludes there is some particular reason\nof coldness, though he cannot conjecture what it is. But there are also,\nin the letter, some expressions which mark extreme animosity against me.\nLord Hertford thinks, they will admit of another sense; and desires me\nto write to you, in order to ask whether you have ever perceived such\nsentiments in that gentleman. I know that I have affirmed, and, what is\nworse, have proved, that Queen Elizabeth's maxims of government were\nfull as arbitrary as those of the Stuarts. I know that this proposition,\nthough now an undoubted and acknowledged truth, is contrary to the\nprinciples of sound Whiggery. I know also, that Mr. Grenville, as a\nsound Whig, bore me no good will on that account; but I did not really\nthink that his quarrel could have gone to such an extremity.[275:1] You\nare sensible of the consequences which I apprehended, and which you did\nnot, last summer, think so dangerous as I imagined. I have now, for the\nfirst time, explained to my lord the nature of my situation, which\nsomewhat surprised him, being so contrary to the assurances given him by\nMr. Grenville: but he told me that my interest was secure; for that he\nthought himself obliged to make me reparation from his private fortune,\nfor any breach of faith which I might apprehend from the public. If this\npoint were fixed, it would probably stop the malignity of my enemies,\nwho will see that they can only do a small ill to Lord Hertford, instead\nof a great one which they might intend against me. However, my lord\nbeing desirous to know, from you, Mr. Grenville's sentiments, as far as\nyou can discover them, I am engaged to enter into this detail, which\notherwise I might have desired to avoid. I am, with great sincerity, my\ndear sir, your most obedient servant.\"[275:2]\n\n\nHUME _to_ MR. OSWALD.\n\n\"_Paris, 2d June, 1765._\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--There is a gentleman here, an Abb\u00e9, and a man of\nletters, who is willing to enter into a commerce, or mutual exchange\nwith me, on every point of political and commercial knowledge.[276:1] He\nhas a great deal of very exact information, with regard to every thing\nthat concerns these subjects; has great freedom of thought and speech,\nand has no connexions with any minister. As a sample, he has sent me the\nenclosed questions, which I could not exactly answer, and is willing to\nanswer any of a like kind, which I could propose to him. I thought I\ncould not do better than transmit them to you; and as I know you will\nalso have questions to ask, I shall also transmit them to him, and you\nmay depend on his answer as just and solid. I have left the margin large\nenough, to save you trouble. I know you are the most industrious and the\nmost indolent man of my acquaintance; the former in business, the latter\nin ceremony. The present task I propose to you is of the former kind.\n\n\"You will hear that Sir Charles Bunbury is appointed Secretary for\nIreland. Lord Hertford thinks it absolutely certain, that I am to\nsucceed him; and I, too, think it very probable. My lord throws up\nimmediately, if this demand is not complied with; yet, notwithstanding\nthese favourable circumstances, I shall not be wonderfully surprised, in\ncase of a disappointment. I know that I can depend on your good offices\nwith Lord Halifax, and with every other person on whom you have\ninfluence. Lord Hertford writes this post to that noble lord. The\npresent advantages I possess are so great, that it seems almost\nextravagant to doubt of success; and yet, in general, it appears to me\nalmost incomprehensible how it should happen, that I, a philosopher, a\nman of letters, nowise a courtier, of the most independent spirit, who\nhas given offence to every sect and every party, that I, I say, such as\nI have described myself, should obtain an employment of dignity, and a\nthousand a-year. This event is in general so strange, that I fancy, in\nthe issue, it will not have place. I am, dear sir, yours\nsincerely.\"[277:1]\n\n\nHume had come to the conclusion, and certainly justly, that as he\nperformed the functions of secretary of the embassy in France, he ought\nto possess the rank and emoluments of that office. He appears, however,\nto have been reluctant to take any steps personally for the\naccomplishment of this object; and his correspondence with his friends\nshows that some urgency was necessary to overcome his scruples.[278:1]\nHaving, however, finally decided on his course, he appears to have\npursued it with great energy and perseverance, and to have moved every\ninfluence through which he was likely to accomplish his end.\n\nOn 24th June, 1765, Hume writes to his brother that he \"has now been\nappointed secretary to the embassy, with the usual salary of \u00a31200\na-year.\" He says, \"The English ministry had intended not to appoint\nanother secretary of the embassy, who they knew could not be received,\nbut to suppress that office altogether from views of frugality.\" For the\ncontinuance of the office, and its bestowal on himself, he seems to have\nrelied very much on the intervention of a foreign lady, his friend\nMadame de Boufflers; and, strange as it may seem to find such an\ninfluence effective in the councils of a British cabinet, he appears to\nhave been convinced that, had the matter not been previously settled in\nhis favour, her application would have brought it to a conclusion.\nContinuing his letter to his brother, he says, \"Nobody can do more\njustice to the merit of my friend the Comtesse de Boufflers, than the\nDuke and Duchess of Bedford, who have indeed been essentially obliged to\nher in their family concerns. She wrote the duke about a fortnight ago,\nthat the time was now come, and the only time that probably would ever\ncome, of his showing his friendship to her, by assisting me in my\napplications; and she would rest on this sole circumstance all his\nprofessions of regard to her. He received her letter while in the\ncountry, but he wrote her back, that he would immediately hasten to\ntown, and if he had any credit with the king or ministry, her\nsolicitations should be complied with. He is not a man that ever makes\nvain professions, nor does he ever take a refusal. He would find the\nmatter finished when he came to London; but it is a sensible pleasure to\nme, that I owe so great an obligation, to a person whom I love and\nesteem so sincerely as that lady.\"[279:1]\n\nIn a letter to the Marquise de Barbantane, he gives the same account of\nthe matter.\n\n\n\"Have you heard of the share which Madame de Boufflers had in this\nevent? As soon as she heard that there was a vacancy, by means of the\npromotion of Sir Charles Bunbury, my predecessor, she wrote to the Duke\nof Bedford, entreating him, in the most earnest terms, to befriend me in\nmy pretensions, and setting all my claims in the most favourable light.\nThe duke answered her, that he would soon be in London; and if he had\nany credit or authority with the ministry, her friend should not fail of\nsuccess. The duke is not a man that ever promises in vain, nor is he a\nman that is ever to be refused; so that, from this interest alone, I was\nsure to have prevailed. But happily the same post brought intelligence\nto the ambassador, that the affair was already finished. But do you not\nthink, that I owe the same obligations to our friend? or will you tell\nme, that I seek only a pretence for indulging my inclinations?\"[280:1]\n\n\nThe statement is repeated in the following letter to Elliot.\n\n\nHUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.\n\n\"_Paris, 3d June, 1765._\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--Not finding your young gentlemen in church last Sunday, I\nwent to see them, when I found them both confined to the house with a\nlight fever, which has since turned out the measles in form, but with\nall the most favourable symptoms. I find Mr. Liston very attentive and\nvery careful; the young gentlemen are attended by the physician of the\nacademy. I use the freedom to tell Lady Hertford the way in which they\nare governed; she tells me she would not act otherwise in the case of\nher own children; so that Mrs. Murray,[281:1] if you please to\ncommunicate to her this intelligence, can have no reason for anxiety.\nGilbert has a greater quantity than Hugh, and greater strength to bear\nthem.\n\n\"You know, I suppose, that I am appointed secretary to the embassy,\nthough I have not yet received my credential letter: the present\nconfusions in the court may perhaps retard them for some time; but Mr.\nGrenville has informed the ambassador that the matter is concluded, and\nthe king has given his consent; so that in spite of Atheism and Deism,\nof Whiggism and Toryism, of Scoticism and Philosophy, I am now possessed\nof an office of credit, and of \u00a31200 a-year: without dedication or\napplication, from the favour alone of a person, whom I can perfectly\nlove and respect. I find it has cost my lord a very hard pull; and when\nI consider the matter alone, without viewing the steps that led to it, I\nam sometimes inclined to be surprised how it has happened.\n\n\"Shall I tell you another circumstance that is not disagreeable to me; a\ncertain lady, who is at present in London, hearing there was some delay,\nwrote in the most earnest terms to the Duke of Bedford, desiring his\ninterest in my favour; he answered her he would soon be in London, and\nif he then possessed any credit or authority, she might depend upon the\nsuccess of her friend. You know that he is not a man that makes vain\nprofessions, nor is he a man easy to be refused. If you guess the lady,\nyou will conclude that it will not cost me a great effort to be\ngrateful. The share you have also been pleased to take is not forgot,\nand strengthens our ancient friendship. I am, my dear sir, yours\nsincerely.\"[282:1]\n\n\nIt is probable that this appointment was impeded by more difficulties\nthan Hume himself could see, or his friends make him aware of. His being\na Scotsman of itself made it then unpopular, and in his case there were\nother reasons likely to weigh with statesmen who looked in the direction\nof popularity. We are told that \"the printers of the _London Evening\nPost and Gazetteer_, were called before the House of Lords, on a\ncomplaint made by the Earl of Marchmont, for printing a letter (written\nby Wilkes,) reflecting on the Earl of Hertford, ambassador at Paris, for\nemploying David Hume the historian as his secretary, and representing\nthe embassy as totally of Scotch complexion.\"[282:2]\n\nNo sooner had this appointment been completed, than Lord Hertford was\nrecalled, and Hume was left for a time charg\u00e9 d'affaires at Paris.\n\nThe ambassador had been appointed by Lord Bute, but had chiefly acted\nduring the administration of Grenville, with whom he and his connexions\nwere not, as Hume's correspondence has shown, on very friendly terms. In\nJuly, 1765, the Rockingham administration was formed, in connexion with\nwhich Lord Hertford became lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and his brother\nsecretary of state with the leadership of the House of Commons. Hume had\nthus to perform the functions of British representative until the Duke\nof Richmond arrived as ambassador in October. Of the manner in which he\nperformed the duties of his office, Lord Brougham says:\n\n     By Lord Aberdeen's kindness I have been allowed to examine the\n     correspondence of the embassy with Marshal Conway during these\n     four months; and it is highly creditable to the philosopher's\n     business-like talents, and his capacity for affairs. The\n     negotiations of which he had the sole conduct related to the\n     important and interesting discussions of Canada; matters\n     arising out of the cession by the peace of Paris; and to the\n     demolition of the works at Dunkirk, also stipulated by that\n     treaty. His despatches, some of them of great length, most of\n     them in his own hand, are clearly and ably written. The course\n     which he describes himself as pursuing with the very slippery\n     and evasive ministers against whom he had to contend,\n     particularly the Duc de Praslin, appears to have been marked\n     by firmness and temper, as well as by quickness and sagacity.\n     His memorials, of which two or three are given, show a perfect\n     familiarity with diplomatic modes and habits, and they are\n     both well written and ably reasoned. His information must have\n     been correct; for he obtained a knowledge of the secret\n     proceedings of the assembly of clergy, which, though convoked\n     for the purpose of obtaining the usual _don gratuit_, chose to\n     enter upon the discussion of all the clerical grievances;\n     while they kept their deliberations carefully secret, and were\n     opposed by the parliament of Paris as soon as their\n     proceedings became known. Mr. Hume obtained a very early,\n     though somewhat exaggerated account of these things, through\n     two of the foreign ambassadors; and when he communicated it to\n     the Bishop of Senlis, he was treated with contempt, as if\n     nothing could be so wild, and as if some enemy of the church\n     had invented the fable to discredit her. Marshal Conway\n     appears by his despatches (which are also excellent) to have\n     rested his hopes of these differences passing off, on the\n     prevailing irreligious spirit in France, where \"the Dauphin\n     alone,\" he says, \"has any care for such matters; and he has of\n     late taken a military turn.\" In a short time the whole ferment\n     was allayed by the prudent and able conduct of Brienne,\n     Archbishop of Toulouse; the _don gratuit_ was voted; and the\n     assembly was prorogued to the following May. Mr. Hume praises\n     Brienne very highly on this, as indeed he did on all\n     occasions.[284:1]\n\nHume's familiar letters make us fully acquainted with the feelings he\nexperienced at this juncture.\n\n\nHUME _to his Brother_.\n\n\"_Compi\u00e8gne, 14th July, 1765._\n\n\"DEAR BROTHER,--There arrived yesterday a messenger from England with my\ncommission under the great seal. My appointments, as I told you, are\n\u00a31200 a-year. I have also \u00a3300 for my equipage, and three hundred ounces\nof plate for my table. This is the fair side of the picture. The\nmisfortune is, that General Conway, the ambassador's brother, is\nsecretary of state. The Duke of Grafton, his nephew,[284:2] is the other\nsecretary. You still say, better and better. Not at all. My Lord\nHertford goes for England in a few days, and leaves the burden of the\nembassy upon me. Still you say, where is the harm of all this? You are\ncome to years of discretion, and can govern yourself. Wait a little,\ndear brother. Lord Hertford goes lord-lieutenant to Ireland, and there\nis an end of the ambassador, and probably of the secretary.\n\n\"It is true I can count upon Lord Hertford's friendship as much as any\nman's in the world. One day last spring, he came into my room, and told\nme that he heard of many people who endeavoured by their caresses to\npersuade me that I ought to remain in France. But he hoped that I would\nembrace no scheme of life which would ever separate him and me. He now\nloved me as much as ever he esteemed me, and wished we might pass our\nlives together. He had resolved several times to have opened his breast\nso far to me; but being a man of few words and no professions, he had\nstill delayed it, and he now felt himself much relieved by this\ndeclaration of his desires and intentions. I know that Lord Hertford\nwill not go to Ireland unless he be allowed to name the secretary for\nthat kingdom. Perhaps he may think his son, Lord Beauchamp, too young\nfor that office; in which case I may very probably expect it, and it is\nan office of between \u00a33000 and \u00a34000 a-year, and stands next in dignity\nto all the great offices of the state. In all cases the lord-lieutenant\nfor Ireland has many and great things to give, of which I should\ncertainly expect one.\n\n\"Still you say, this is all better and better: Not at all! You know the\nfluctuation of English politics. Perhaps, before you receive this, the\nwhole present system is overturned. Lord Hertford, who, while he\nremained here, was a man of no party, is involved with his friends. All\nis turned topsy-turvy: and before next winter, perhaps, I am at your\nfireside without office or employment! Here, indeed, I allow you to say,\nso much the better; for I never had much ambition, I mean for power and\ndignities, and I am heartily cured of the little I had. I believe a\nfireside and a book the best things in the world for my age and\ndisposition. I write in some hurry, therefore can only add, that if the\nold ministry return, I can look upon the Duke of Bedford alone as my\nfriend, by means of the lady I mentioned to you. If the ministry stand,\nI have, by Lord Hertford's means, many and great friends; and the king,\nI have been well assured, honours me particularly with his good opinion.\nIn all cases it is a great point for me to have obtained this commission\nto a place of so much trust and credit and silences all objections\nagainst me, whether they arose from religion or politics. Direct your\nletters to me as _Secr\u00e9taire d'Ambassade d'Angleterre \u00e0 Paris_. I hate\nany thing that disturbs so agreeable a settlement as I had obtained\nbefore these great events. My compliments to Mrs. Home and to Katy. Keep\nthis letter to yourself, but write part of it to our sister.\"[286:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_Compi\u00e8gne, 20th July, 1765._\n\n\"Tell Dr. Robertson that the Dauphin asked Mr. Hume several questions\nthe other day, about him and his History. That prince seems a reasonable\nman, but would be the better of being _roasted_ sometimes in _The\nPoker_.[286:2] If they will elect him a member, Mr. Hume will propose it\nto him.[286:3] What does the doctor say at present to these great\nfolding doors opened to all the chimeras of ambition? Alas! they may be\nthrown open much wider, if possible; none of these chimeras will enter.\nPhilosophy, with her severe brows, guards the passage; while Indolence,\nin affright, is ready to throw herself out at the window. Mr. Hume\nrecommends himself to Ferguson and Jardine, and John Adams and Mrs.\nAdams, and to all the Poker, and desires the prayers of the faithful\nfor him on this occasion.\"\n\n\nHume had now actually before him the prospect of filling the high office\nof secretary to the lord-lieutenant of Ireland. Writing to his brother\non 4th August, 1765, he again states that Lord Hertford, before his\ndeparture, had assured him that he would not accept of the\nlord-lieutenancy, unless he were allowed the naming of the secretary;\nand now adds, that the office is destined for himself, in conjunction\nwith Lord Hertford's son, Lord Beauchamp; and that his own salary is to\nbe about \u00a32000 a-year. He continues:\n\n\"Thus you see a splendid fortune awaits me: Yet you cannot imagine with\nwhat regret I leave this country. It is like stepping out of light into\ndarkness, to exchange Paris for Dublin. The most agreeable circumstance\nis the friendship and confidence of the lord-lieutenant; and if the\npresent credit of that family continue, as it is likely to do, I shall\nprobably have it in my power to do service to my friends--particularly\nto your young folks; for as to you and myself, it is long since we\nthought our fortunes entirely made.\"[287:1]\n\nHe was not, however, destined to fill this office; and neither he\nhimself, nor his best friends, appear to have regretted the\ncircumstance; the fact being that he was but slenderly endowed with\neither of the qualifications then indispensable to an Irish\nstatesman,--a capacity for hard drinking, and adroitness in bold\npolitical intrigues. The exercise of an official function, among a\npeople where one sect of Christians enjoyed all offices, emoluments, and\nhonours, while another, following the national religion, were scarcely\nallowed to live, must have shocked his sense of political justice;\nwhile it may be questioned if he was a sufficiently bold politician to\nhave attempted any reform of this abuse. The project of his appointment,\nhowever, was brought so near its consummation, as to elicit certain\napplications for ecclesiastical preferment, in order that the reputation\nhe had achieved, in other places, for influence in this department of\npatronage, might not be unacknowledged in Ireland.[288:1]\n\nIn his letters to his friends, at this time, he describes these\nvicissitudes of fortune; and indulges in a feeling to which he was very\nprone,--an uncertainty as to his future projects, and an indolent\ndisinclination to make up his mind how to act.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_Paris, 23d August, 1765._\n\n\"All the literati of my friends, who understand English, think your\nDissertation one of the finest performances in our language. A\ngentleman, of my acquaintance, has translated it for his own\nsatisfaction. He could not publish it without publishing \"Ossian\" at the\nsame time. My scepticism extends no farther, nor ever did, than with\nregard to the extreme antiquity of those poems; and it is no more than\nscepticism.\n\n\"You may, perhaps, have heard of the rapid whirl of my fortune\nbackwards and forwards of late. I had scarce received my commission, as\nsecretary to the embassy, when I knew that that situation, the most\nagreeable in which I could have been placed, was not to last. Lord\nHertford must go to Ireland, and resolved to carry me over as secretary\nto that kingdom, in conjoint commission with his son. On his arrival at\nLondon, he found the cry so loud against the promotion of Scotsmen, that\nhe was obliged to give it up; which he did the more easily, as he knew\nmy great reluctance to that office and scene of life. He has now got a\npension of \u00a3400 a-year settled on me; and as he has prepared an\napartment for me in the castle of Dublin, I shall hurry thither as soon\nas I leave France, and shall be afterwards free for the rest of my\nlife.[289:1] I have not determined where I shall pass my latter days.\nThis place should be the most agreeable to me; but a man who came late\nthither, and who is not supported by family connexions, may, perhaps,\nfind himself misplaced, even in this centre of letters and good society.\nI have a reluctance to think of living among the factious barbarians of\nLondon; who will hate me because I am a Scotsman, and am not a Whig, and\ndespise me because I am a man of letters. My attachment to Edinburgh\nrevives as I turn my face towards it.\"[290:1]\n\n\nHUME _to his Brother_.\n\n\"DEAR BROTHER,--I am now to inform you of another pretty rapid change in\nmy fortune. Lord Hertford, on his arrival in London, found great\ndifficulty of executing his intentions in my favour. The cry is loud\nagainst the Scots; and the present ministry are unwilling to support any\nof our countrymen, lest they bear the reproach of being connected with\nLord Bute. For this reason, Lord Hertford departed from his project;\nwhich he did the more readily, as he knew I had a great reluctance to\nthe office of secretary for Ireland; which requires a talent for\nspeaking in public, to which I was never accustomed. I must also have\nkept a kind of open house, and have drunk and caroused with the Irish, a\ncourse of living to which I am as little accustomed. The Duke of\nBedford, to whom I mentioned these objections, thought them very solid.\nI think myself, at present, much better provided for, by a pension of\n\u00a3400 a-year for life, which Lord Hertford has procured me. He also\nwrites me, that an apartment is fitting up for me in the castle of\nDublin. I shall go thither as soon as I can leave France; which will not\nbe till the end of October or beginning of November, on the arrival of\nthe Duke of Richmond. Meanwhile, I am _Charg\u00e9 des affaires d'Angleterre\n\u00e0 la cour de France_, which is the title under which you must write to\nme, if you favour me with a letter.\n\n\"Lord Hertford had another additional project for my advantage, in\nIreland. The keeper of the black rod is a very genteel office, which\nyields about \u00a3900 during the session. He proposed, as I cannot be\npresent on the opening of the parliament, to give that office to\nanother, who would officiate, and would be content with \u00a3300. But I\ndeclined this offer; not as unjust, but as savouring of greediness and\nrapacity.[291:1]\n\n\"Please to write all these particulars to Katty, except the last, and\nseal and send her the enclosed. I am charmed with the accounts I hear of\nJosey, from all hands. Yours sincerely.\n\n\"There was a kind of fray in London, as I am told, upon Lord Hertford's\ndeclaring his intentions in my favour. The Princess Amelia said, that\nshe thought the affair might be easily accommodated: why may not Lord\nHertford give a bishopric to Mr. Hume?\"[292:1]\n\n\nWriting an account of these transactions to Smith, in nearly the same\nwords, on 5th November, he commences his letter with the observation, \"I\nhave been whirled about lately in a strange manner; but, besides that\nnone of the revolutions have ever threatened me much, or been able to\ngive me a moment's anxiety, all has ended very happily, and to my mind.\"\nHe concludes thus:--\n\n\"As a new vexation to temper my good fortune, I am much in perplexity\nabout fixing the place of my future abode for life. Paris is the most\nagreeable town in Europe, and suits me best; but it is a foreign\ncountry. London is the capital of my own country; but it never pleased\nme much. Letters are there held in no honour: Scotsmen are hated:\nsuperstition and ignorance gain ground daily. Edinburgh has many\nobjections, and many allurements. My present mind, this forenoon, the\n5th of September, is to return to France. I am much pressed here to\naccept of offers, which would contribute to my agreeable living; but\nmight encroach on my independence, by making me enter into engagements\nwith princes, and great lords, and ladies. Pray give me your judgment.\n\n\"I regret much I shall not see you. I have been looking for you every\nday these three months. Your satisfaction in your pupil gives me equal\nsatisfaction.\"[293:1]\n\n\nHe writes to Blair, on 28th December:--\n\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--After great wavering and uncertainty, between Paris and\nEdinburgh, (for I never allowed London to enter into the question,) I\nhave, at last, fixed my resolution to remain some time longer in Paris.\nPerhaps I may take a trip to Rome next autumn. Had I returned to\nEdinburgh, I was sensible that I shut myself up, in a manner, for life;\nand I imagine that I am, even yet, too young and healthy, and in too\ngood spirits, to come to that determination. If you please, therefore,\nyou may continue in my house, which I am glad pleases you. If you leave\nit, as you thought you would, Nairne may have it for \u00a335, as we\nagreed.\"[293:2]\n\n\nWe have now to return to Jean Jacques Rousseau, whom we left, in 1762,\nseeking protection from the Earl Marischal at Neufch\u00e2tel. He finally\ntook up his abode at Motiers Travers, a village on one of the passes of\nthe Jura; where, now that some offensive associations connected with his\ncharacter and writings have died away, the fame of his genius still\nlives, and has been no unprofitable commodity to the inhabitants. Here\nhe had a wild rocky district to wander over, where he was not liable to\nencounter those dangerous impediments which beset the sojourners in the\nAlps. He had, at the same time, what was more to his purpose, a zealous\npriesthood and an intolerant populace surrounding him. That the outward\nmanifestations of a morality, odious to his new neighbours, might not be\nwanting, he sent for his celebrated mistress, Th\u00e9r\u00e8se la Vasseur, with\nwhom he continued openly to live; and that the populace, thus\nexasperated, might be under no mistake as to the proper person to throw\nstones at, he adopted the garb of an Armenian.\n\nIt is much disputed whether he was really subjected to the attacks of\nwhich he afterwards complained; and it is said, that whatever tangible\nevidence of them was perceptible to other eyes than his own, was the\ndoing of Mademoiselle la Vasseur, to drive him from a neighbourhood\nwhich she disliked. It will be found, however, that his story, as\nreported by Hume in the letters which follow, substantially coincides\nwith the narrative in the \"Confessions.\" This is in some measure a\ntestimony to the sincerity of Rousseau's own conviction, that those\nhostile efforts were made against him; and indeed it would be useless to\nquestion the sincerity of his belief in any thing indicative of the\nmalevolence of his fellow-beings. Having fled from Motiers, he lived for\nsome time on the island of St. Pierre, in the lake of Bienne; and,\ndriven from that asylum, he seems to have hesitated between England and\nPrussia as a place of refuge. He left the State of Bienne at the date at\nwhich his \"Confessions\" terminate, 29th October, 1765. He proceeded to\nStrasburg, where, by wearing his Armenian dress in the country where he\nhad been proscribed, he certainly excited a considerable sensation. He\nappears to have held a sort of lev\u00e9e during his residence in that city,\nwhere his daily and hourly proceedings have been recorded with the\nprecision of a court journal.[295:1]\n\nIt was here that he received Hume's letter, agreeing to aid him in\nfinding an asylum in England. The negotiation between them had been\nbrought to a conclusion by Madame de Verdelin, who had spent some time\nwith Rousseau at Motiers, and persuaded him to take advantage of the\nimpression which the Earl Marischal and Madame de Boufflers had made in\nhis favour.[295:2]\n\nHume's heart was farther softened by a letter, full of miseries, which\nRousseau had written to M. Clairaut. \"I must own,\" says Hume, \"I felt on\nthis occasion an emotion of pity, mixed with indignation, to think a man\nof letters of such eminent merit, should be reduced, in spite of the\nsimplicity of his manner of living, to such extreme indigence; and that\nthis unhappy state should be rendered more intolerable by sickness, by\nthe approach of old age, and the implacable rage of persecution.\" He was\ninclined even to sympathize with Rousseau's petulant rejection of\nproferred kindness; conceiving \"that a noble pride, even though carried\nto excess, merited some indulgence in a man of genius, who, borne up by\na sense of his own superiority, and a love of independence, should have\nbraved the storms of fortune and the insults of mankind.\"[296:1]\n\nLeaving Strasburg, the wanderer proceeded to Paris, where he went about\nin his Armenian dress; was mobbed and stared at to his heart's content,\nwrote to his friends, complaining with bitter eloquence that people\nwould allow him neither solitude nor rest, shut himself up, and went\nforth again to the world. Before he could have ventured to appear so\npublicly, in the capital where a writ had been issued for the seizure of\nhis person, he must have received very strong assurances of protection.\nThe arr\u00eat of the Parliament, however, was not recalled; and his friends\nmust have felt somewhat provoked by his pertinacious courtship of\npopular notice, accompanied by the pretence of a desire to avoid it, by\nadopting only what was simple and natural--by wearing, for instance, so\nsimple a dress as the fur cap, caaftan, and vest of an Armenian, in the\nstreets of Paris! Hume, who seems really to have had faith in his\nmodesty, must still have felt it awkward that the representative of\nBritain should be closely allied with a person so conducting himself;\nand was anxious, whenever the state of public business might permit him,\nto see his charge safely across the Channel. It was thought, in the\nmeantime, expedient to find for Rousseau an asylum within the\nprivileged area of the Temple, of which his friend, the Prince of\nConti, was Grand Prior. We must now allow Hume himself to describe his\nnew companion, and their intercourse.\n\nIn continuation of the letter to Blair, of 20th December, above cited,\nhe says:\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"I must, however, be in London very soon, in order to give an account of\nmy commission; to thank the King for his goodness to me, and to settle\nthe celebrated Rousseau, who has rejected invitations from half of the\nkings and princes of Europe, in order to put himself under my\nprotection. He has been at Paris about twelve days; and lives in an\napartment prepared for him by the Prince of Conti, which, he says, gives\nhim uneasiness, by reason of its magnificence. As he was outlawed by the\nParliament, it behoved him to have the King's passport, which was at\nfirst offered him under a feigned name; but his friends refused it,\nbecause they knew that he would not submit even to that falsehood. You\nhave heard that he was banished from Neufch\u00e2tel by preachers, who\nexcited the mob to stone him.\n\n\"He told me that a trap was laid for him, with as much art as ever was\nemployed against a fox or a polecat. In the night-time a great enormous\nstone was suspended above the door, in such a manner, that on opening it\nin the morning, the stone must have fallen and have crushed him to\ndeath.[297:1] A man passing by early, perceived it, and called in to him\nat the window to be on his guard. He also told me, that last spring,\nwhen he went about the mountains amusing himself with botany, he came to\na village at some distance from his own: a woman met him, who, surprised\nat his Armenian dress--for he wears, and is resolved to wear that habit\nduring life--asked him what he was, and what was his name. On hearing it\nshe exclaimed, 'Are you that impious rascal, Rousseau? Had I known it, I\nshould have waited for you at the end of the wood, with a pistol, in\norder to blow out your brains.' He added, that all the women in\nSwitzerland were in the same disposition, because the preachers had told\nthem that he had wrote books to prove that women had no souls. He then\nturned to Madame de Boufflers, who was present, and said,--Is it not\nstrange that I, who have wrote so much to decry the morals and conduct\nof the Parisian ladies, should yet be beloved by them; while the Swiss\nwomen, whom I have so much extolled, would willingly cut my throat? 'We\nare fond of you,' replied she, 'because we know that, however you might\nrail, you are at bottom fond _of us_ to distraction. But the Swiss women\nhate you, because they are conscious that they have not merit to deserve\nyour attention.'\n\n\"On leaving Neufch\u00e2tel, he took shelter in a little island about half a\nleague in circumference, in the midst of a lake near Berne. There lived\nin it only one German peasant, with his wife and sister. The council of\nBerne, frightened for his neighbourhood, on account of his democratic\nmore than his religious principles, ordered him immediately to withdraw\nfrom their state. He wrote the letter of which I send you a copy, as it\nis very curious. The council, in answer, reiterated their orders for him\nto begone. He then applied to me. I have made an agreement with a\nFrench gardener in Fulham for boarding him. We set out together in a few\ndays.\n\n\"It is impossible to express or imagine the enthusiasm of this nation in\nhis favour. As I am supposed to have him in my custody, all the world,\nespecially the great ladies, tease me to be introduced to him. I have\nhad rouleaus thrust into my hand, with earnest applications that I would\nprevail on him to accept of them. I am persuaded that, were I to open\nhere a subscription with his consent, I should receive \u00a350,000 in a\nfortnight. The second day after his arrival, he slipped out early in the\nmorning to take a walk in the Luxembourg gardens. The thing was known\nsoon after. I am strongly solicited to prevail on him to take another\nwalk, and then to give warning to my friends. Were the public to be\ninformed, he could not fail to have many thousand spectators. People may\ntalk of ancient Greece as they please; but no nation was ever so fond of\ngenius as this, and no person ever so much engaged their attention as\nRousseau. Voltaire and every body else are quite eclipsed by him.\n\n\"I am sensible that my connexions with him add to my importance at\npresent. Even his maid La Vasseur, who is very homely and very awkward,\nis more talked of than the Princess of Morocco or the Countess of\nEgmont, on account of her fidelity and attachment towards him. His very\ndog, who is no better than a collie, has a name and reputation in the\nworld. As to my intercourse with him, I find him mild, and gentle, and\nmodest, and good humoured; and he has more the behaviour of a man of the\nworld, than any of the learned here, except M. de Buffon; who, in his\nfigure, and air, and deportment, answers your idea of a marechal of\nFrance, rather than that of a philosopher. M. Rousseau is of a small\nstature, and would rather be ugly, had he not the finest physiognomy in\nthe world: I mean the most expressive countenance. His modesty seems not\nto be good manners, but ignorance of his own excellence. As he writes,\nand speaks, and acts, from the impulse of genius, more than from the use\nof his ordinary faculties, it is very likely that he forgets its force\nwhenever it is laid asleep. I am well assured that at times he believes\nhe has inspirations from an immediate communication with the Divinity.\nHe falls sometimes into ecstasies, which retain him in the same posture\nfor hours together. Does not this example solve the difficulty of\nSocrates' genius, and of his ecstasies? I think Rousseau in many things\nvery much resembles Socrates. The philosopher of Geneva seems only to\nhave more genius than he of Athens, who never wrote any thing, and less\nsociableness and temper. Both of them were of very amorous complexions;\nbut a comparison in this particular, turns out much to the advantage of\nmy friend. I call him such, for I hear, from all hands, that his\njudgment and affections are as strongly biassed in my favour as mine are\nin his. I shall much regret leaving him in England; but even if a pardon\ncould be procured for him here, he is resolved, as he tells me, never to\nreturn; because he never will again be in the power of any man. I wish\nhe may live unmolested in England. I dread the bigotry and barbarism\nwhich prevail there.\n\n\"When he came to Paris, he seemed resolved to stay till the 6th or 7th\nof next month. But at present the concourse about him gives him so much\nuneasiness that he expresses the utmost impatience to be gone. Many\npeople here will have it that this solitary humour is all affectation,\nin order to be more sought after; but I am sure that it is natural and\nunsurmountable:[301:1] I know that two very agreeable ladies breaking in\nupon him, discomposed him so much that he was not able to eat his dinner\nafterwards. He is short-sighted; and I have often observed, that while\nhe was conversing with me in the utmost good-humour, (for he is\nnaturally gay,) if he heard the door open, the greatest agony appeared\non his countenance, from the apprehension of a visit; and his distress\ndid not leave him, unless the person was a particular friend. His\nArmenian dress is not affectation. He has had an infirmity from his\ninfancy, which makes breeches inconvenient for him; and he told me, that\nwhen he was chased into the mountains of Switzerland, he took up this\nnew dress, as it seemed indifferent what habit he there wore. I could\nfill a volume with curious anecdotes regarding him, as I live in the\nsame society which he frequented while in Paris. But I must not exhaust\nyour patience. My kind compliments to Ferguson, Robertson, and all the\nbrethren. I am,\" &c.\n\n\"_Paris, 28th Dec. 1765._\"\n\n\"P.S.--Be not surprised that I am going to say in my postscript, the\ndirect contrary to what I said in my letter. There are four days of\ninterval between my writing the one and the other; and on this subject\nof my future abode, I have not these four months risen and gone to bed\nin the same mind. When I meet with proofs of regard and affection from\nthose I love and esteem here, I swear to myself that I shall never quit\nthis place. An hour after, it occurs to me that I have then for ever\nrenounced my native country and all my ancient friends, and I start with\naffright. I never yet left any place but with regret: judge what it is\nnatural for me to feel on leaving Paris, and so many amiable people with\nwhom I am intimately connected, while it is in my power to pass my life\nin the midst of them. Were I not indispensably obliged to go to London,\nI know that it would be impossible for me to leave this place. But it is\nvery probable that being once there, and fairly escaped from the cave of\nCirce, I may reconcile myself again to the abode of Ithaca. I left\nEdinburgh with great reluctance. To return to it, after having tripled\nmy revenue in less than three years, can be no hardship. I must,\ntherefore, fairly warn you to remove from my house at Whitsunday. I have\ntaken a house at Paris; but I will have one also in Edinburgh, and shall\ndeliberate in London which of them I shall occupy. I shall not go to\nIreland. The arrival of the Duke of Richmond was late; and this\nengagement with M. Rousseau protracts my return so long, that it will\nnot be worth while to go to Dublin. Lord Hertford has been so good as to\nexcuse me. You have heard of the great fortune of Trail, who is, I\nbelieve, your acquaintance, and a very honest fellow. Nothing is so\nagreeable to an irresolute man, says the Cardinal de Retz, as a measure\nwhich dispenses him from taking an immediate resolution. I am exactly in\nthe case. I hope your resigning my house will be no hardship to\nyou.\"[303:1]\n\n\nHume, Rousseau, and M. de Luze of Geneva, a friend of the fugitive, left\nFrance early in January 1766. We have no account of their arrival,\nexcept Rousseau's statement in a letter to Malesherbes, that whenever he\nset foot on the land of liberty, he leaped on his illustrious friend's\nneck, embraced him without uttering a word, and covered his face with\nkisses and tears; a ceremony with which Hume would probably have\ndispensed, in the presence of \"the barbarians who inhabit the banks of\nthe Thames.\" The first notice of their sojourn in Britain, is in a\nbulletin by Hume to Madame de Boufflers, dated London, 19th January,\n1766. He says,--\n\n     My companion is very amiable, always polite, gay often,\n     commonly sociable. He does not know himself when he thinks he\n     is made for entire solitude. I exhorted him on the road to\n     write his memoirs. He told me, that he had already done it\n     with an intention of publishing them.\n\n     At present, says he, it may be affirmed, that nobody knows me\n     perfectly, any more than himself; but I shall describe myself\n     in such plain colours, that henceforth every one may boast\n     that he knows himself, and Jean Jacques Rousseau. I believe,\n     that he intends seriously to draw his own picture in its true\n     colours: but I believe, at the same time, that nobody knows\n     himself less. For instance, even with regard to his health, a\n     point in which few people can be mistaken, he is very\n     fanciful. He imagines himself very infirm. He is one of the\n     most robust men I have ever known. He passed ten hours in the\n     night-time, above deck, during the most severe weather, when\n     all the seamen were almost frozen to death, and he caught no\n     harm. He says that his infirmity always increases upon a\n     journey; yet was it almost imperceptible on the road from\n     Paris to London.\n\n     His wearing the Armenian dress is a pure whim; which, however,\n     he is resolved never to abandon. He has an excellent warm\n     heart; and, in conversation, kindles often to a degree of heat\n     which looks like inspiration. I love him much, and hope that I\n     have some share in his affections.\n\n     I find that we shall have many ways of settling him to his\n     satisfaction; and as he is learning the English very\n     fast,[304:1] he will afterwards be able to choose for himself.\n     There is a gentleman of the name of Townsend, a man of four or\n     five thousand a-year, who lives very privately, within fifteen\n     miles of London, and is a great admirer of our philosopher, as\n     is also his wife. He has desired him to live with him, and\n     offers to take any board he pleases. M. Rousseau was much\n     pleased with this proposal, and is inclined to accept of it.\n     The only difficulty is, that he insists positively on his\n     gouvernante's sitting at table,--a proposal which is not to be\n     made to Mr. and Mrs. Townsend.\n\n     This woman forms the chief encumbrance to his settlement. M.\n     de Luze, our companion, says, that she passes for wicked and\n     quarrelsome, and tattling; and is thought to be the chief\n     cause of his quitting Neufch\u00e2tel. He himself owns her to be so\n     dull, that she never knows in what year of the Lord she is,\n     nor in what month of the year, nor in what day of the month or\n     week; and that she can never learn the different value of the\n     pieces of money in any country. Yet she governs him as\n     absolutely as a nurse does a child. In her absence his dog has\n     acquired that ascendant. His affection for that creature is\n     beyond all expression or conception.\n\n     I have as yet scarce seen any body except Mr. Conway and Lady\n     Aylesbury.[305:1] Both of them told me, they would visit Jean\n     Jacques, if I thought their company would not be disagreeable.\n     I encouraged them to show him that mark of distinction.[305:2]\n     Here I must also tell you of a good action which I did; not\n     but that it is better to conceal our good actions. But I\n     consider not my seeking _your_ approbation as an effect of\n     vanity: your suffrage is to me something like the satisfaction\n     of my own conscience. While we were at Calais, I asked him\n     whether, in case the King of England thought proper to gratify\n     him with a pension, he would accept of it. I told him, that\n     the case was widely different from that of the King of\n     Prussia; and I endeavoured to point out to him the difference,\n     particularly in this circumstance, that a gratuity from the\n     King of England could never in the least endanger his\n     independence. He replied: \"But would it not be using ill the\n     King of Prussia, to whom I have since been much obliged?\n     However, on this head (added he,) in case the offer be made\n     me, I shall consult my father;\" meaning Lord Marischal.[306:1]\n     I told this story to General Conway, who seemed to embrace\n     with zeal the notion of giving him a pension, as honourable\n     both to the king and nation. I shall suggest the same idea to\n     other men in power whom I may meet with, and I do not despair\n     of succeeding.\n\n     P. S.--Since I wrote the above, I have received your obliging\n     letter, directed to Calais. M. Rousseau says, the letter of\n     the King of Prussia is a forgery; and he suspects it to come\n     from M. de Voltaire.[306:2]\n\n     The project of Mr. Townsend, to my great mortification, has\n     totally vanished, on account of Mademoiselle Le Vasseur. Send\n     all his letters under my cover.[307:1]\n\nHume writes again on the 12th, to state that he has succeeded in\nobtaining the promise of a pension from the king: \"You know,\" he says,\n\"that our sovereign is extremely prudent and decent, and careful not to\ngive offence. For which reason, he requires that this act of generosity\nmay be an entire secret.\" He states, that this information must be kept\nto herself and the Prince of Conti: and she in her answer, admires\nHume's generous and delicate conduct, and promises to keep the secret.\nIn his postscript Hume announces the important fact, that Mademoiselle\nle Vasseur had arrived, and had found a companion to whom such a rag of\ncelebrity was no small acquisition.\n\n\n\"P.S.--Since I wrote the above, I have seen General Conway, who tells me\nthat the king has spoke to him on the same subject, and that the sum\nintended is a hundred pounds a-year: a mighty accession to our friend's\nslender revenue.\n\n\"A letter has also come to me open from Guy the bookseller, by which I\nlearn that Mademoiselle sets out post, in company with a friend of mine,\na young gentleman, very good-humoured, very agreeable--and very mad! He\nvisited Rousseau in his mountains, who gave him a recommendation to\nPaoli, the King of Corsica; where this gentleman, whose name is Boswell,\nwent last summer, in search of adventures. He has such a rage for\nliterature, that I dread some event fatal to our friend's honour. You\nremember the story of Terentia, who was first married to Cicero, then to\nSallust, and at last, in her old age, married a young nobleman, who\nimagined that she must possess some secret, which would convey to him\neloquence and genius.\"[308:1]\n\n\nSoon after, we find Hume writing as follows:--\n\n\nHUME _to his Brother_.\n\n\"_London, 2d February, 1766._\n\n\"As you know that I never left any place without regret, you may imagine\nthat I did not leave Paris altogether willingly, after having been so\nlong accustomed to it. I do not find this new scene near so much to my\ntaste; and I shall be long ere I am reconciled to it. Perhaps Edinburgh\nmay please me better; I promise myself at least some satisfaction in my\nnephews, of whom I hear a very good account; and it is surely more\nsuitable to one of my years to seek a retreat in my native country, than\nto pass the dregs of life among the great, and among people who, though\nthey seem to have a friendship for me, are still strangers. I accustom\nmyself, therefore, to this idea without reluctance; and since I have\ncrossed the seas, I find my regret for the good company I left behind\nme, less pungent and uneasy. . . . .\n\n\"You will have heard by this time, that I have brought over with me the\nfamous Rousseau, the most singular man, surely, in the world. He applied\nto me last summer to take him under my protection in England, as he\ncalled it; but in the meanwhile, he was chased out of Switzerland, and\ncame to Strasburg, with an intention of going to the King of Prussia,\nwho pressed him earnestly to live with him. At Strasburg my letter\nreached him, making him an offer of all my services; upon which he\nturned short, and having obtained the King of France's passport, came\nand joined me at Paris. I have lived with him ever since. He is a very\nmodest, mild, well-bred, gentle-spirited, and warm-hearted man, as ever\nI knew in my life. He is also to appearance very sociable. I never saw a\nman who seems better calculated for good company, nor who seems to take\nmore pleasure in it. Yet is he absolutely determined to retire and board\nhimself in a farmer's house among the mountains of Wales, for the sake\nof solitude. He has refused a pension from the King of Prussia, and\npresents from hundreds. I have been offered great sums for him, if I\ncould have prevailed on him to accept of them. Yet, till within these\nthree months, he was in absolute beggary. He has now about \u00a370\na-year?[309:1] which he has acquired by a bargain for his works. It is\nincredible the enthusiasm for him in Paris, and the curiosity in London.\nI prevailed on him to go to the play-house in order to see Garrick, who\nplaced him in a box opposite the king and queen. I observed their\nmajesties to look at him more than at the players.[309:2] I should\ndesire no better fortune than to have the privilege of showing him to\nall I please. The hereditary prince paid him a visit a few days ago; and\nI imagine the Duke of York called on him one evening when he was abroad.\nI love him much, and shall separate from him with much regret.\"[310:1]\n\n\nHume writes to Dr. Blair on 11th February:--\n\n\"You have seen in the newspapers enow of particulars concerning my\npupil, who has now left me and retired to Chiswick. He is impatient to\nget into the mountains of Wales. He is a very agreeable amiable man, but\na great humorist.[310:2] The philosophers of Paris foretold to me that I\ncould not conduct him to Calais without a quarrel; but I think I could\nlive with him all my life in mutual friendship and esteem. I am very\nsorry that the matter is not likely to be put to a trial! I believe one\ngreat source of our concord is, that neither he nor I are disputatious,\nwhich is not the case with any of them. They are also displeased with\nhim because they think he overabounds in religion; and it is indeed\nremarkable, that the philosopher of this age who has been most\npersecuted, is by far the most devout. I do not comprehend such\nphilosophers as are invested with the sacerdotal character. I am, dear\ndoctor, yours _usque ad aras_.\"[310:3]\n\nThe first attempt to find a settlement for Rousseau, was with the\nFrench gardener at Fulham, already alluded to. The arrangement proposed\nby Hume was, that the gardener was to receive from fifty to sixty pounds\na-year, as the consideration for boarding Rousseau and Mademoiselle, but\nthat he was only to draw twenty-five pounds from Rousseau, from whom he\nwas to keep the arrangement secret.[311:1] Rousseau rejected this\narrangement with disgust; and various other efforts to find him a\nsuitable home were equally unsuccessful. Hume, who, as Rousseau himself\ntells Madame de Boufflers, was more anxious about his welfare than he\nwas himself, appears to have spent week after week, in the vain pursuit\nof a resting place for the wanderer--no sooner framing a hopeful scheme\nthan it was contemptuously rejected. It does not appear, however, that\nthe inquiries were conducted precisely in the sphere in which Rousseau\nliked to act. It is clear that he had not come to Britain to negotiate\nwith farmers at Chiswick, or French gardeners at Fulham. He undoubtedly\nexpected much more distinguished titles to be mixed up with his\narrangements; and we find that it was not till a rich man's well kept\ncountry mansion was put at his disposal, that he deigned to be for a\nmoment satisfied. A letter to Blair, contains a very full narrative of\nthe subsequent proceedings.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.[312:1]\n\n     _Lisle Street, Leicester Fields,\n     25th March, 1766._\n\n     DEAR DOCTOR,--I had asked M. Rousseau the question you propose\n     to me: He answered, that the story of his \"H\u00e9loise\" had some\n     general and distant resemblance to reality; such as was\n     sufficient to warm his imagination and assist his invention:\n     but that all the chief circumstances were fictitious. I have\n     heard in France, that he had been employed to teach music to a\n     young lady, a boarder in a convent at Lyons; and that the\n     master and scholar fell mutually in love with each other; but\n     the affair was not attended with any consequences. I think\n     this work his masterpiece; though he himself told me, that he\n     valued most his _Contrat Social_; which is as preposterous a\n     judgment as that of Milton, who preferred the Paradise\n     Regained to all his other performances.\n\n     This man, the most singular of all human beings, has at last\n     left me; and I have very little hopes of ever being able, for\n     the future, to enjoy much of his company, though he says, that\n     if I settle either in London or Edinburgh, he will take a\n     journey on foot every year to visit me. Mr. Davenport, a\n     gentleman of \u00a35000 or \u00a36000 a-year, in the north of England,\n     and a man of great humanity and of a good understanding, has\n     taken the charge of him. He has a house called Wooton, in the\n     Peake of Derby, situated amidst mountains and rocks and\n     streams and forests, which pleases the wild imagination and\n     solitary humour of Rousseau; and as the master seldom\n     inhabited it, and only kept there a plain table for some\n     servants, he offered me to give it up to my friend. I\n     accepted, on condition that he would take from him \u00a330 a-year\n     of board for himself and his gouvernante, which he was so\n     good-natured as to agree to. Rousseau has about \u00a380 a-year,\n     which he has acquired by contracts with his booksellers, and\n     by a liferent annuity of \u00a325 a-year, which he accepted from\n     Lord Marischal. This is the only man who has yet been able to\n     make him accept of money.\n\n     He was desperately resolved to rush into this solitude,\n     notwithstanding all my remonstrances; and I foresee, that he\n     will be unhappy in that situation, as he has indeed been\n     always in all situations. He will be entirely without\n     occupation, without company, and almost without amusement of\n     any kind. He has read very little during the course of his\n     life, and has now totally renounced all reading: He has seen\n     very little; and has no manner of curiosity to see or remark:\n     He has reflected, properly speaking, and studied very little;\n     and has not indeed much knowledge: He has only _felt_, during\n     the whole course of his life; and in this respect, his\n     sensibility rises to a pitch beyond what I have seen any\n     example of: but it still gives him a more acute feeling of\n     pain than of pleasure. He is like a man who were stript not\n     only of his clothes, but of his skin, and turned out in that\n     situation to combat with the rude and boisterous elements,\n     such as perpetually disturb this lower world. I shall give you\n     a remarkable instance of his turn of character in this\n     respect: It passed in my room, the evening before his\n     departure.\n\n     He had resolved to set out with his gouvernante in a\n     post-chaise; but Davenport, willing to cheat him and save him\n     some money, told him that he had found a retour chaise for the\n     place, which he might have for a trifle, and that luckily it\n     set out the very day in which Rousseau intended to depart. His\n     purpose was to hire a chaise, and make him believe this story.\n     He succeeded at first, but Rousseau afterwards ruminating on\n     the circumstances, began to entertain a suspicion of the\n     trick. He communicated his doubts to me, complaining that he\n     was treated like a child; that though he was poor, he chose\n     rather to conform himself to his circumstances, than live like\n     a beggar on alms; and that he was very unhappy in not speaking\n     the language familiarly, so as to guard himself against these\n     impositions. I told him that I was ignorant of the matter, and\n     knew nothing more of it, than I was told by Mr. Davenport, but\n     if he pleased I should make inquiry about it. \"Never tell me\n     that,\" replied he, \"if this be really a contrivance of\n     Davenport's, you are acquainted with it, and consenting to it;\n     and you could not possibly have done me a greater\n     displeasure.\" Upon which he sat down very sullen and silent;\n     and all my attempts were in vain to revive the conversation,\n     and to turn it on other subjects; he still answered me very\n     drily and coldly. At last, after passing near an hour in this\n     ill-humour, he rose up and took a turn about the room. But\n     judge of my surprise, when he sat down suddenly on my knee,\n     threw his hands about my neck, kissed me with the greatest\n     warmth, and bedewing all my face with tears, exclaimed, \"Is it\n     possible you can ever forgive me, my dear friend? After all\n     the testimonies of affection I have received from you, I\n     reward you at last with this folly and ill behaviour: but I\n     have notwithstanding a heart worthy of your friendship; I love\n     you, I esteem you, and not an instance of your kindness is\n     thrown away upon me.\" I hope you have not so bad an opinion of\n     me as to think I was not melted on this occasion; I assure you\n     I kissed him and embraced him twenty times, with a plentiful\n     effusion of tears. I think no scene of my life was ever more\n     affecting.[315:1]\n\n     I now understand perfectly his aversion to company; which\n     appears so surprising in a man well qualified for the\n     entertainment of company, and which the greater part of the\n     world takes for affectation. He has frequent and long fits of\n     the spleen, from the state of his mind or body, call it which\n     you please; and from his extreme sensibility of temper, during\n     that disposition, company is a torment to him. When his\n     spirits and health and good humour return, his fancy affords\n     him so much and such agreeable occupation, that to call him\n     off from it gives him uneasiness; and even the writing of\n     books, he tells me, as it limits and restrains his fancy to\n     one subject, is not an agreeable entertainment. He never will\n     write any more; and never should have wrote at all, could he\n     have slept a-nights. But he lies awake commonly; and to keep\n     himself from tiring, he usually composed something, which he\n     wrote down when he arose. He assures me, that he composes very\n     slowly, and with great labour and difficulty.\n\n     He is naturally very modest, and even ignorant of his own\n     superiority. His fire, which frequently rises in conversation,\n     is gentle and temperate; he is never in the least arrogant and\n     domineering, and is, indeed, one of the best bred men I ever\n     knew. I shall give you such an instance of his modesty as must\n     necessarily be sincere. When we were on the road, I\n     recommended to him the learning of English, without which, I\n     told him, he would never enjoy entire liberty, nor be fully\n     independent, and at his own disposal. He was sensible I was in\n     the right, and said, that he heard there were two English\n     translations of his \"Emile, or Treatise on Education;\" he\n     would get them as soon as he arrived in London; and as he knew\n     the subject, he would have no other trouble, than to learn or\n     guess the words: this would save him some pains in consulting\n     the dictionary; and as he improved, it would amuse him to\n     compare the translations and judge which was the best.\n     Accordingly, soon after our arrival, I procured him the books,\n     but he returned them in a few days, saying that they could be\n     of no use to him. \"What is the matter?\" replied I. \"I cannot\n     endure them,\" said he, \"they are my own work; and ever since I\n     delivered my books to the press, I never could open them, or\n     read a page of them without disgust.\" \"That is strange,\" said\n     I, \"I wonder the good reception they have met with from the\n     world has not put you more in conceit with them.\" \"Why,\" said\n     he, \"if I were to count suffrages, there are perhaps more\n     against them than for them.\" \"But,\" rejoined I, \"it is\n     impossible but the style, and eloquence, and ornaments must\n     please you.\" \"To tell the truth,\" said he, \"I am not\n     displeased with myself in that particular: but I still dread,\n     that my writings are good for nothing at the bottom, and that\n     all my theories are full of extravagance. Je crains toujours\n     que je p\u00e8che par le fond, et que tous mes syst\u00e8mes ne sont que\n     des extravagances.\" You see that this is judging of himself\n     with the utmost severity, and censuring his writings on the\n     side where they are most exposed to criticism. No feigned\n     modesty is ever capable of this courage. I never heard ----\n     reproach himself with the ----: nobody ever heard you express\n     any remorse, for having put Ossian on the same footing with\n     Homer!\n\n     Have I tired you, or will you have any more anecdotes of this\n     singular personage? I think I hear you desire me to go on. He\n     attempted once to justify to me the moral of his New Heloisa,\n     which, he knew, was blamed, as instructing young people in the\n     art of gratifying their passions, under the cover of virtue,\n     and noble refined sentiments. \"You may observe,\" said he\n     \"that my Julia is faithful to her husband's bed, though she is\n     seduced from her duty during her single state; but this last\n     circumstance can be of no consequence in France, where all the\n     young ladies are shut up in convents, and have it not in their\n     power to transgress: it might, indeed, have a bad effect in a\n     Protestant country.\" But notwithstanding this reflection, he\n     told me, that he has wrote a continuation of his \"Emilius,\"\n     which may soon be published. He there attempts to show the\n     effect of his plan of education, by representing Emilius in\n     all the most trying situations, and still extricating himself\n     with courage and virtue. Among the rest, he discovers that\n     Sophia, the amiable, the virtuous, the estimable Sophia, is\n     unfaithful to his bed, which fatal accident he bears with a\n     manly superior spirit. \"In this work,\" added he, \"I have\n     endeavoured to represent Sophia in such a light that she will\n     appear equally amiable, equally virtuous, and equally\n     estimable, as if she had no such frailty.\" \"You take a\n     pleasure, I see,\" said I, \"to combat with difficulties in all\n     your works.\" \"Yes,\" said he, \"I hate marvellous and\n     supernatural _events_ in novels. The only thing that can give\n     pleasure in such performances is to place the personages in\n     situations difficult and singular.\" Thus, you see, nothing\n     remains for him but to write a book for the instruction of\n     widows! unless perhaps he imagines that they can learn their\n     lesson without instruction. Adieu, dear doctor; you say that\n     you sometimes read my letters to our common friends; but you\n     must read this only to the initiated.[317:1]\n\nAlmost the only other matter which appears conspicuously in Hume's\ncorrespondence during his intercourse with Rousseau, is the death of a\ndear friend, often mentioned in his previous letters--Dr. Jardine. He\nwas a man of strong judgment, and much sarcastic wit; but his articles\nin _The Edinburgh Review_ of 1755, are almost the only specimens of his\nability which he has left to posterity. He was born in Dumfries-shire\non 3d January, 1716, and he was minister of the Tron Church parish when\nhe died. The death was sudden; and Hume, overlooking the calamitous\nconsequences of such events to surviving relatives, and in harmony with\nthe opinions he had expressed on death in a still more appalling form,\nseems to have considered its suddenness as fortunate. He thus writes to\nBlair, on 5th June.\n\n\"I cannot begin my letter without lamenting most sincerely the death of\nour friend Dr. Jardine. I do not aggravate it by the circumstance of its\nbeing sudden, for that is very desirable. But surely we shall ever\nregret the loss of a very pleasant companion, and of a very friendly\nhonest man. It makes a blank which you must all feel, and which I in\nparticular will sensibly feel, when I come amongst you. I need not ask\nyou whether the miscreants of the opposite party do not rejoice, for I\ntake it for granted they do.\"[318:1]\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[264:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[265:1] MS. R.S.E. In answer, Millar tells him that the prejudice is not\nagainst the Scots, but against Lord Bute; that matters have now,\nhowever, been all put right, for \"it is generally believed that Mr.\n_Greenville_ is a good manager of the finances, and in general means\nwell: as a proof of it, our stocks have been creeping up daily, and it\nis now generally believed that 3 per cent will soon come to par if\naffairs continue peaceable!\" One possessed of better opportunities of\njudging, and more capable of using them, joins in these anticipations of\nsuccess with which Grenville's disastrous career as a financier opened.\nElliot says, on 25th March, 1765: \"To-morrow Mr. Grenville opens the\nbudget, as it is usually called, and I believe our revenue will appear\nto be on a better footing than is usually believed. I hope we shall have\ndischarged as much debt without breach of faith as you have done in a\npoliter way. Not that I pretend to censure your method. You borrow at a\nhigh interest during time of war, and it is understood you are to take\nyour own method in peace. Our mode of proceeding is the very reverse of\nthis. . . . Your negotiation with regard to the French prisoners you\nmust have heard, met with all the approbation it so well deserved.\" (MS.\nR.S.E.)\n\n[268:1] Probably Valli\u00e8re. The Duc de Valli\u00e8re was supposed to be the\nauthor of some anonymous theatrical pieces.\n\n[270:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[270:2] This gentleman is the same who afterwards distinguished himself\nas a diplomatist, and who was so well known by the title of Sir Robert\nListon.\n\n[272:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[273:1] Mallet died on 21st April, 1765.\n\n[273:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[275:1] On account of his taxation system having caused the American\nRevolution, Grenville is now generally ranked with statesmen of despotic\nprinciples. He was, however, an avowed admirer of the democratic\nportions of the constitution; and it was in truth his ill-directed\nadvocacy of popular rights, not an intentional departure from his avowed\nprinciples, that made his administration so disastrous. His zeal for the\nindependent authority of Parliament, and for the curtailment of the\nprerogatives of the Crown, induced him to struggle for the exercise by\nparliament, in the colonies, of a power with which the crown could not\ncompete,--that of taxation.\n\n[275:2] Minto MSS.\n\n[276:1] Evidently the Abb\u00e9 Morellet, who afterwards corresponded with\nHume on these subjects. He was born in 1727, and died in 1819. From his\ngreat age and the cheerful social habits of his latter years, he was one\nof the few members of the school of the Encyclop\u00e6diasts, whom men of the\npresent generation have been accustomed to meet in general society.\nMorellet possessed two distinct titles to fame. He had written some\ngrave and valuable books on political economy and statistics; while in\nlighter literature, and in Madame Geoffrin's circle, he enjoyed a high\nreputation for playful and pungent wit. His friends likened him to\nSwift; but as he sought to avoid malice in his sarcasms, and to make\nthem subservient to good principles in morals and religion, he might, in\nthis part of his character, be more aptly compared with Sydney Smith. He\nhad a great partiality for Scottish music; but it may be doubted if this\ntaste was either created or fostered by his intercourse with Hume. In\nhis very amusing Memoires, he describes a dinner with a musical party\nnear Plymouth, in the open air. Some young ladies, with their father and\nmother, approached near enough to hear the music. The Abb\u00e9 gallantly\ncarried them a basket of cherries. \"Je les prie en m\u00eame temps de vouloir\nbien chanter _some Scotish song_, dont, moi Fran\u00e7ais, j'\u00e9tais _very\nfond_. Elles se regardent un moment: et d\u00e8s que nous f\u00fbmes retourn\u00e9s \u00e0\nnos places, comme si notre plus grand \u00e9loignement les e\u00fbt rassur\u00e9es,\nelles se mettent \u00e0 chanter toutes les trois \u00e0 l'unisson, avec des voix\nd'une extr\u00eame douceur, _The lass of Peatie's Mill_. Le temps, le lieu,\nla singularit\u00e9 de la rencontre ajout\u00e8rent quelques charmes \u00e0 ce petit\nconcert.\" Vol. i. p. 209.\n\n[277:1] Memorials of Oswald, p. 81.\n\n[278:1] Mr. Elliot, in answer to the letter printed above, (p. 189,)\nsays, \"So, my dear sir, you have at last, with no small reluctance, and\nafter many struggles, prevailed with yourself to acquaint some of your\nfriends that Lord Hertford means to desire that government would be\ngraciously pleased to bestow the character and emoluments of the\nsecretaryship upon the person who actually performs the functions of it.\nAt your time of life, with so much independency about you, and so unlike\nall your former conduct, indeed I am not at all surprised that it cost\nyou near two pages of apology and explanation before you would even\nintrust me with the secret. Were you less deep in the study of human\nnature, and somewhat more an adept in the ways of men, I am apt to think\nyou would rather have filled your letter with excuses for not having\nsooner made this application.\"\n\nHe goes on to state, that he has been exerting himself in the matter,\nbut that on all occasions he had found himself anticipated by Lord\nHertford. He continues:\n\n\"As to _ingrata patria ne ossa quidem habebis_, don't be at all uneasy.\nHere I can speak more peremptorily; and notwithstanding all your errors,\nmistakes, and heresies in religion, morals, and government, I undertake\nyou shall have at least Christian burial, and perhaps we may find for\nyou a niche in Westminster Abbey besides. Your Lockes, Newtons, and\nBacons had no great matter to boast of during their lives; and yet they\nwere the most orthodox of men; they required no godfather to answer for\nthem; while, on the other hand, did not Lord Hertford spread his\nsevenfold shield over all your transgressions? Pray, what pretensions\nhave you, either in church or state; for you well know you have offended\nboth?\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[279:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[280:1] Private Correspondence, p. 121.\n\n[281:1] Mrs. Elliot, who as an heiress preserved the name of Murray\nKynynmond.\n\n[282:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[282:2] Walpole, Memoirs of George III. i. 391. Walpole pretends that\nConway's dismissal was partly caused by revenge against Lord Hertford\nfor his conduct on this occasion, (ib. 402.) But from his own account of\nit, the resolution to dismiss Conway had been taken before Hume's\nappointment.\n\n[284:1] Lives of Men of Letters, &c. p. 225.\n\n[284:2] He was Lady Hertford's nephew.\n\n[286:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[286:2] See above, p. 172.\n\n[286:3] The Dauphin was then far advanced in the disease of which he\ndied. According to the ordinary French historians, he was at the same\ntime so completely subjected to the priestly influence of the Molinists,\nas to justify the supposition, that the decay of his mind kept pace with\nthat of his body. Others give a totally different account of him, and\nWalpole says, \"To please his family, the prince went through all the\nceremonies of the church, but showed to his attendants after they were\nover, how vain and ridiculous he thought them. Many expressions he\ndropped in his last hours that spoke the freedom of his opinions; and to\nthe Duc de Nivernois he said, he was glad to leave behind him such a\nbook as 'Hume's Essays.'\" Memoirs of George III. vol. ii. p. 242. The\nDauphin died on 20th December, 1765.\n\n[287:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[288:1] A general officer of reputation, making such an application, on\nbehalf of a friend, says:--\n\n\"The divine in question has a very good living, but in a quarter of the\nworld where he has not a creature to converse with. If his excellency\nwould enrol him among that million of the tribe of Levi, that attend at\nthe Castle of Dublin, who are called his chaplains, it would excuse his\nattendance at quarters: And his general,--I mean, his bishop, would be\nunder the necessity of permitting him to be absent whilst he had the\nhonour to be about the commander-in-chief at headquarters.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[289:1] Lord Hertford, writing to Hume, on 5th August, says:--\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--You will see, in the papers, that Barr\u00e9 is to be my\nsecretary; but it has no other foundation. If I had been at liberty, I\nshould have desired to continue with him whose abilities and ease in\nbusiness I have so long experienced; but the world will have it\notherwise, and it must be my son. He is popular in Ireland; and I am\ninvited, on all hands, to name him; at the same time that I am told the\ngreat danger of indulging my own inclinations, that if I named you, with\nthe particular additional prejudice that prevails, at present, against\nthe Scotch, that I should condemn my own administration. I have,\ntherefore, made it the condition of my acceptance of the lieutenancy,\nthat you are immediately provided for in a manner less likely to subject\nyou to the inconvenience of party changes. I have explained, both to the\nKing and the ministers, how essential I thought it to my honour and ease\nof mind; and it is resolved. I flatter myself I shall soon be able to\nacquaint you, that I have been a good solicitor; and, as my private\nfriend, I beg leave to assure you that I shall always be most happy in\nreceiving you in Dublin, and every other part of the world, let the\nprejudices and follies of mankind be what they will. I hope you will\nconsider me as your friend; and I will desire no other return for all\nthe services I may be able to do you, than such a portion of your time\nas you can bestow upon me, consistently with your inclination. The Duke\nof Richmond goes to France: I do not yet know upon what plan, having not\nseen him. He is a pretty figure; is easy in his behaviour; and does not\nwant parts. I wish he may have temper, experience, and knowledge of men\nfor that place. I have talked to my brother, as it became a wellwisher\nto peace, upon this occasion. You will receive, by the messenger which\ncarries this letter to France, an official one from my brother, drawn by\nhimself, by which you will be able to judge of his style. I need not add\nany thing to it. Every thing which passed, in a very long conference we\nhad together with Guerchy, is fully stated in it; but, when you talk to\nthe Duke of Praslin upon it, you will, if you please, take an\nopportunity of recommending from me, in a particular manner, the\nindulgence required for the holders of the Canada bills. This point may\nbe essential to the good understanding between the two courts.\"--MS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[290:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[291:1] Lord Hertford writes Hume, on 16th August;--\n\n\"The usher of the black rod, in Ireland, is in my disposal. It produces,\nin the course of a session, from \u00a3800 to \u00a3900, as I am informed. If you\napprove it, my intention is to give it to a gentleman who will be\nextremely satisfied to accept of \u00a3300 a-year for his trouble, at most,\nand the rest will be placed to your account, without interrupting the\nbenefit of the pension.\"\n\nAnd again, on September 5, after Hume's refusal:--\n\n\"The black rod you will give me leave to dispose of as I intended. You\nshall, at the end of the session, refuse the emoluments I propose to\nreserve out of it, if you see sufficient reason. \u00a3300 for doing the duty\nof it should satisfy the person to whom I will give it.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[292:1] _Lit. Gazette_, 1822, p. 711. Corrected from original in MSS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[293:1] _Lit. Gazette_, 1822, p. 722. Corrected from original in MSS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[293:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[295:1] We are told (vie de Rousseau par Musset Pathay, i. 102,) that a\ncertain M. Augar, having been here presented to the apostle of\neducation, said he was bringing up his son after the model of \"Emile.\"\n\"So much the worse both for you and your son;\" _tant pis pour vous et\npour votre fils_, said Rousseau. This must have been highly\nsatisfactory. Of all the theories to reconcile Rousseau's\ncontradictions,--to discover on what principle he preached up parental\ncare, and sent his own children to the foundling hospital, the best is\nsupplied by himself in a single sentence in the Heloise: \"L'on sait bien\nque tout homme qui pose des maximes g\u00e9n\u00e9rales, entend qu'elles obligent\ntout le monde, except\u00e9 lui.\" This is certainly more intelligible than\nthe mystical theory of his eulogist, D'Escherny: \"Il n'y a que les sots\nqui ne se contredisent point, parce que leur esprit born\u00e9 ne voit jamais\nqu'un c\u00f4t\u00e9 de l'objet.\"\n\n[295:2] He states, in the \"Confessions,\" that when Wallace's work on the\nNumber of Mankind was passing through the press, Hume undertook the\nrevision of the proof sheets, though the work was written against\nhimself. I am not aware of any other authority for this anecdote.\nRousseau said he was charmed with it, because the conduct was so much\nlike his own!\n\n[296:1] Account of the Controversy between Hume and Rousseau.\n\n[297:1] \"Un banc tr\u00e8s-massif, qui \u00e9toit dans la rue \u00e0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 de ma porte\net fortement attach\u00e9, fut d\u00e9tach\u00e9, enlev\u00e9, et pos\u00e9 debout contre la\nporte; de sorte que, si l'on ne s'en f\u00fbt aper\u00e7u, le premier qui pour\nsortir auroit ouvert la porte d'entr\u00e9e, devoit naturellement \u00eatre\nassomm\u00e9.\"--_Confessions_, Liv. 12.\n\n[301:1] Hume, though habitually sceptical, was far from being\nsuspicious; and in his kindness to his new companion, he took every\nthing in sincerity. \"C'est un des malheurs de ma vie,\" says Rousseau,\n\"qu'avec un si grand d\u00e9sir d'\u00eatre oubli\u00e9, je sois contraint de parler de\nmoi sans cesse;\" but those who knew him better than Hume did at so early\na period of their intercourse, do not give him credit for desiring to be\neither neglected or forgotten. Madame de Genlis professes to have been\nmuch vexed and perplexed by having acted on a reliance similar to\nHume's. Rousseau had promised to accompany her to the Com\u00e9die Fran\u00e7oise,\non the condition that they were to occupy a _loge grill\u00e9e_. When they\nentered, madame flew to shut the grating; Rousseau opposed her; he was\nsure _she_ would not like it to be closed, and he would be sufficiently\nhidden, by sitting behind her. In the scuffle he was recognised; madame,\nvexed and terrified, insisted that the grating should be closed; but he\nwas inexorable. The commencement of a popular piece soon relieved them\nfrom notice, and when the eyes of the audience were averted from him,\nRousseau grew gloomy and rude. He afterwards professed himself deeply\noffended at having been exhibited as a wild beast! _M\u00e9moires_, ii. 12.\n\nThe same lady gives a more pleasing instance of his characteristics at\nthat time, in describing her first introduction to him. A friend told\nher, that her husband intended to play a trick on her: to employ the\ncelebrated mimic Preville, the Foote of the French stage, to personate\nRousseau at his table. The expected guest appeared. His dress and\nappearance were so unlike other people's, yet so like what would have\nbeen expected in Rousseau--his conversation was so brilliant--that it\ncertainly must be a piece of wonderful acting. Thoroughly at her ease,\nshe laughed, and talked, and sang the airs of the Devin du village. It\nwas Rousseau himself! and not accustomed, in this the full blaze of his\nreputation, to be received with so much freedom, by a young and\naccomplished woman, he pronounced her to be the most lively and\nunaffected of her sex.\n\n[303:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[304:1] It does not appear that Rousseau made any progress in English.\nIn a letter to Hume, from Wooton, he says, \"J'ai eu hier la visite de M.\nle Ministre, qui, voyant que je ne lui parlois que Fran\u00e7ois, n'a pas\nvoulu me parler Anglois, de sorte que l'entrevue s'est pass\u00e9e \u00e0 peu pr\u00e8s\nsans mot dire. J'ai pris go\u00fbt \u00e0 l'exp\u00e9dient; je m'en servirai avec tous\nmes voisins, si j'en ai; et duss\u00e9-je apprendre l'Anglois, je ne leur\nparlerai que Fran\u00e7ois, sur-tout si j'ai le bonheur qu'ils n'en sachent\npas un mot.\"\n\n[305:1] General Conway's wife.\n\n[305:2] Rousseau writes to Hume:--\n\n     _Le Lundi Soir._\n\n     Je vous supplie, mon tr\u00e8s cher patron, de vouloir bien\n     m'excuser aupr\u00e8s de Myladi Ailesbury et de Mr. Le G\u00e9n\u00e9ral\n     Conway. Je suis malade, et hors d'\u00e9tat de me pr\u00e9senter, et\n     Mademoiselle Le Vasseur, tr\u00e8s bonne, et tr\u00e8s estimable\n     personne, n'est point faite pour paro\u00eetre dans les grandes\n     compagnies. Trouvez bon, mon tr\u00e8s cher patron, que nous nous\n     en tenions au premier arrangement et que j'attende dans\n     l'apr\u00e8s midi le carrosse que M. Davenport veut bien envoyer.\n     J'arrive suant et fatigu\u00e9 d'une longue promenade: c'est\n     pourquoi je ne prolonge pas ma lettre: vous m'avez si bien\n     acquis et je suis \u00e0 vous de tant de mani\u00e8res que cela m\u00eame ne\n     doit plus \u00eatre dit. Je vous embrasse de toute la tendresse de\n     mon c\u0153ur.\n\n                                             J. J. ROUSSEAU.\n\nHad Lady Aylesbury requested the honour of Mademoiselle le Vasseur's\ncompany along with that of her keeper? Rousseau tells us what pleasure\nit gave him to see Madame la Marechale de Luxembourg embrace her in\npublic. But if any English lady of rank and character offered to extend\nher hospitality to such a person, there could be no stronger evidence of\nthe general consent to suspend all social laws in favour of Rousseau.\n\n[306:1] Of Lord Marischal he always spoke with respect. In the\nConfessions, he says, \"O bon Milord! \u00f4 mon digne p\u00e8re! que mon c\u0153ur\ns'\u00e9meut encore en pensant \u00e0 vous! Ah les barbares! quel coup ils m'ont\nport\u00e9 en vous d\u00e9tachant de moi! Mais non, non, grand homme, vous \u00eates et\nserez toujours le m\u00eame pour moi, qui suis le m\u00eame toujours.\"\n\n[306:2] Madame de Boufflers seems to have early apprehended mischief\nfrom Walpole's letter. In the letter referred to, she says, \"Je voudrois\nsavoir si une lettre du Roy de Prusse qui court Paris est vraie ou\nfausse. On dit qu'elle est pleine d'ironie.\" She then proceeds to\ndescribe the letter. Hume in answer says, \"I suppose, that by this time\nyou have learned it was Horace Walpole who wrote the Prussian letter you\nmentioned to me. It is a strange inclination we have to be wits,\npreferably to every thing else. He is a very worthy man; he esteems and\neven admires Rousseau; yet he could not forbear, for the sake of a very\nindifferent joke, the turning him into ridicule, and saying harsh things\nagainst him. I am a little angry with him; and I hear you are a great\ndeal: but the matter ought to be treated only as a piece of\nlevity.\"--_Private Correspondence_, p. 130.\n\n[307:1] Private Correspondence, p. 125-128.\n\n[308:1] Private Correspondence, p. 131-132.\n\n[309:1] The mark of interrogation is in the MS.\n\n[309:2] Writing to the Marquise de Barbantane, he makes the following\naddition to this anecdote:--\n\n\"When the hour came, he told me, that he had changed his resolution, and\nwould not go: 'for--what shall I do with Sultan?' That is the name of\nhis dog. 'You must leave him behind,' said I. 'But the first person,'\nreplied he, 'who opens the door, Sultan will run into the streets in\nsearch of me, and will be lost.' 'You must then,' said I, 'lock him up\nin your room, and put the key in your pocket.' This was accordingly\ndone: but as we went down stairs, the dog howled and made a noise; his\nmaster turned back, and said he had not resolution to leave him in that\ncondition; but I caught him in my arms and told him, that Mrs. Garrick\nhad dismissed another company in order to make room for him; that the\nKing and Queen were expecting to see him; and without a better reason\nthan Sultan's impatience, it would be ridiculous to disappoint them.\nPartly by these reasons, and partly by force, I engaged him to\nproceed.\"--_Private Correspondence_, p. 144.\n\n[310:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[310:2] The word appears not to be used in its modern popular sense, but\nas meaning a person full of caprice.\n\n[310:3] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[311:1] In his narrative of the controversy, Hume says, \"I wrote\nimmediately to my friend Mr. John Stewart of Buckingham Street, that I\nhad an affair to communicate to him, of so secret and delicate a nature,\nthat I should not venture even to commit it to paper, but that he might\nlearn the particulars of Mr. Elliot. . . . . Mr. Stewart was to look out\nfor some honest and discreet farmer in his neighbourhood, who might be\nwilling to lodge and board M. Rousseau and his gouvernante. . . . . It\nwas not long before Mr. Stewart wrote me word he had found a situation,\nwhich he conceived might be agreeable,\" &c.\n\nIn confirmation of this narrative, there is the following letter in the\nMSS. R.S.E. Mr. Stewart is probably the \"Jack Stewart,\" frequently\nalluded to in Hume's letters.\n\n     \"MY DEAR SIR,--Mr. Elliot told me the affair you recommended\n     to him. Since his arrival I have tried every farmer in our\n     side of the country, and can find no proper place. Some have\n     not room, some hate foreigners, some don't chuse boarders, and\n     the major part of all are such beings as he could not live\n     with in any comfortable manner. There is an old Frenchman who\n     has been here since a child, and has a sort of a garden farm\n     at Fulham. To him I proposed the thing without mentioning\n     names, and to oblige me he will take such a boarder: but still\n     I could wish to find a place where he would be more agreeably\n     situated, for this man keeps only a single maid, eats very\n     plain, and his house is as dirty as a Frenchman's in France.\n     The farmer himself is about sixty years old, unmarried, a\n     cheerful honest creature, of a very obliging disposition.\n     Consider whether this will suit your purpose, or if I should\n     try in other counties. Adieu, my worthy good sir. Believe me\n     eternally, your devoted servant,\n\n                                               \"J. STEWART.\"\n\n[312:1] Blair had written on 24th February,--\n\n\"I received both your letters; and am exceedingly indebted to you for\nthe many curious and entertaining anecdotes you gave me concerning\nRousseau. They bestowed upon me somewhat of the same importance which\nyou say your connexion with Rousseau himself bestowed upon you in Paris,\nby having so much information to give my friends from you concerning so\nextraordinary a personage. Your accounts pleased me the more, that they\ncoincided very much with the idea I had always formed of the\nman--amiable but whimsical. Strong sensibilities joined with an oddly\narranged understanding. He is a proof of what I always thought to be a\npossible mixture in human nature, one being a sceptic from the turn of\ntheir mind, and yet an enthusiast from the turn of their heart; for this\nI take to be his real character--a man floating betwixt doubts and\nfeelings--betwixt scepticism and enthusiasm: leaning more to the latter\nthan the former; his understanding strangely tinctured by both.\" He\ndesires Hume to ask Rousseau, whether the principal scenes in his\n\"H\u00e9loise\" were not founded on real events.--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[315:1] This anecdote is told in substantially the same manner to Madame\nde Boufflers, to whom its spirit would be doubtless far less\nincomprehensible than to Dr. Blair.--_See Private Correspondence_, p.\n150.\n\n[317:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 731, corrected from original, MS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[318:1] MS. R.S.E. Blair writes on 12th June:--\n\n\"Poor Jardine--I knew you would join with us in dropping very cordial\ntears over his memory. What pleasant hours have I passed with you and\nhim. We have lost a most agreeable companion, as it was possible for any\nman to be, and a very useful man to us here, in all public affairs. I\nthought of you at the very first as one who would sensibly feel the\nblank he will make in our society, when you come again to join it. But\nwhen are you to come?\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n1766-1767. \u00c6t. 55-56.\n\n     Rousseau at Wooton--Mr. Davenport--Negotiations as to\n     Rousseau's pension--Origin and rise of his excitement against\n     Hume--Proper method of viewing the dispute--Incidents\n     illustrative of Rousseau's state of mind--His charges against\n     Hume--Smith's opinion--Opinion of the French friends--Hume's\n     conduct in the publication of the papers--Voltaire--Rousseau's\n     flight and wanderings--Hume's subsequent conduct to him.\n\n\nThe place where Rousseau found a retreat, was the mansion of Wooton in\nDerbyshire, surrounded by scenery, not unlike that which he had left\nbehind him in the Jura. It was a late addition to the extensive\nancestral estates of its proprietor, Mr. Davenport of Davenport. How\nsuccessful Hume had been, in finding a man of generous, warm, kindly\nnature, to be the protector of his exiled friend, some letters from Mr.\nDavenport, printed in the course of this narrative will attest.[319:1]\n\nThat Rousseau might be induced to live in his house, it was necessary\nthat Mr. Davenport should agree to accept of a sum of money in the shape\nof board, and he good-humouredly conceded to Hume, that the amount\nshould be fixed at \u00a330 a-year. \"If it be possible,\" says Hume, \"for a\nman to live without occupation, without books, without society, and\nwithout sleep, he will not quit this wild and solitary place; where all\nthe circumstances which he ever required, seem to concur for the\npurpose of making him happy. But I dread the weakness and inquietude\nnatural to every man, and, above all, to a man of his character. I\nshould not be surprised that he had soon quitted this retreat.\"[320:1]\nIt appears that Mr. Davenport intended, if Rousseau became attached to\nWooton, to leave him a life lease of the house.[320:2]\n\nRousseau reached Wooton about the middle of March. On the 22d he wrote\nto his _cher Patron_ Hume, informing him that his new place of residence\nwas in every way delightful; and that its charms were enhanced by the\nreflection, that he owed all the happiness of his new position to his\ndear friend.[320:3] Doubtless Hume, who must now have been a little\ntired of the caprices which had so constantly baffled his friendly\nexertions, felt this acknowledgment to be very gratifying. On the 29th\nhe received a letter, still friendly and grateful, but not quite so\nwarm, in which Rousseau, while he complains of the inconvenience of not\nbeing understood by the servants, congratulates himself on his ignorance\nof the English language, as saving him from the annoyance of\ncommunication with his neighbours.[320:4]\n\nWhile all seemed thus serene, dark thoughts were gathering in the\nexile's mind: and if Hume, relieved of his troublesome duties, and\nprobably satisfied with his own conduct, had known the nicer tests of\nthe state of that variable and tempestuous temper, he might have\ncalculated, by some indications, that the storm was about to burst. The\nletter of Horace Walpole had, for some time, been lying at the bottom of\nRousseau's mind, not forgotten, though hidden from view; and it seems to\nhave formed the nucleus round which his diseased imaginations gathered,\nand put themselves into shape.[321:1] On the 7th of April, Rousseau\nsent a letter to the editor of the _St. James's Chronicle_, in which it\nhad appeared, denouncing it as a forgery concocted in Paris, and saying\nthat it rent and afflicted his heart to say, that the impostor had his\naccomplices in England. That it was not then, or for many weeks before,\nthat he first became acquainted with this _jeu d'esprit_, is clear from\na letter to Madame de Boufflers, of 18th January, in which he states,\nthat Hume had just informed him of its existence.[323:1] He appears to\nhave then attributed it to Voltaire. He afterwards imputed it, with\ngreat confidence, to D'Alembert; and the ultimate discovery, that it was\nnot written by any literary rival and conspirator, but by an English\ngentleman partial to such wicked amusements, appears to have been the\nmost galling circumstance connected with it.\n\nIt seems to have been believed, by some of those who knew Rousseau's\ncharacter, that his brooding over Walpole's letter would have been\ninsufficient to cause the commotions that followed, without the\nmalicious assistance of Mademoiselle Le Vasseur.[323:2] This woman, who\nseems to have possessed all the vices to which her sex is liable,\nwithout one of its virtues,--who had just enough of intellect to assist\nthe cunning of her depraved heart,--is said to have had an influence\nover the philosopher of education, of which it is certainly difficult to\ncredit the extent. It will be seen, in the letters of Mr. Davenport,\nthat she had a dispute with his venerable housekeeper, concerning a\nkettle and cinders! What was the exact nature of the dispute, is now, it\nmay be feared, buried in eternal oblivion; and we are left to conjecture\nwhither an influential cause in a literary quarrel, which interested all\nEurope, may possibly have been a kettle and cinders. On the 12th of\nMay, Rousseau wrote to General Conway, acknowledging the king's goodness\nin bestowing on him a pension; saying he thought himself armed against\nall disasters, but that a new and unimagined one had arisen, which so\ntroubled his spirit, that he had not the necessary presence of mind to\ndecide on the conduct he ought to adopt as to the pension. He expressed,\nat the same time, sorrow that he could not publicly acknowledge his\nobligations. This appeared to Hume and Conway to be an intimation, that\nthe pension would not be accepted if it were to be secret.[324:1]\n\nWhile his mind was thus blackening within, he preserved a cheerful\nexterior; and Mr. Davenport wrote to Hume, on 14th May, from Wooton: \"I\ncame on Friday, and had the satisfaction of finding M. Rousseau in\nperfect health. He seems to like the place; amuses himself with walking\nwhen the weather is fair; if raining, he plays upon the harpsichord and\nwrites: is very sociable, and an excellent companion.\"[325:1] There is\nevidence, however, that he had entertained all his evil thoughts of Hume\nat a much earlier period. His second letter to him, in the capacity of\n_Cher Patron_, is dated, as we have mentioned, 29th March. On the 31st\nhe wrote to M. D'Ivernois, saying that he found Hume allied with his\nmost dangerous enemies, and if he were not a rascal, he himself would\nowe him many reparations for unjust suspicions entertained of\nhim.[325:2]\n\nResolved to bring the matter of the pension to a conclusion, Hume wrote\nto Rousseau thus:--\n\n\n\"_Lisle Street, Leicester Fields_, _June 16, 1766_.\n\n\"As I have not received any answer from you, sir, I conclude that you\npersevere in the resolution of refusing all marks of his majesty's\ngoodness, as long as they must remain a secret. I have, therefore,\napplied to General Conway to have this condition removed; and I have\nbeen so fortunate as to obtain his promise, that he would speak to the\nking for that purpose. It will only be requisite, said he, that we know\npreviously from M. Rousseau, whether he would accept of a pension\npublicly granted him, that his majesty may not be exposed to a second\nrefusal. He gave me authority to write to you on the subject; and I beg\nto hear your resolution as soon as possible. If you give your consent,\nwhich I earnestly entreat you to do, I know that I can depend on the\ngood offices of the Duke of Richmond to second General Conway's\napplication; so that I have no doubt of success. I am, my dear sir,\nyours, with great sincerity.\"[326:1]\n\n\nThis brought on the first gust of the storm. On 23d June, Rousseau wrote\nhis celebrated letter, beginning with the observation, that his silence,\ninterpreted by Hume's conscience, must have convinced the latter that\nthe whole of his horrible designs were discovered. In this letter\nnothing is more remarkable than the contrast between the frantic\nbitterness of the language, and the elaborate neatness of the\npenmanship, which, if handwriting conveyed a notion of character, would\nrepresent a calm, contented mind, gratifying itself by the exercise of\nthe petty art of caligraphy. A fac-simile of the concluding paragraph is\ngiven, that the reader may have an opportunity of marking this singular\ncontrast.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nHume, now thoroughly angry, wrote as follows:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ ROUSSEAU.\n\n\"_June 26, 1766._\n\n\"As I am conscious of having ever acted towards you the most friendly\npart, of having always given you the most tender and the most active\nproofs of sincere affection, you may judge of my extreme surprise on\nperusing your epistle. Such violent accusations, confined altogether to\ngeneralities, it is as impossible to answer, as it is impossible to\ncomprehend them. But affairs cannot, must not, remain on that footing. I\nshall charitably suppose that some infamous calumniator has belied me to\nyou. But, in that case, it is your duty, and, I am persuaded, it will be\nyour inclination, to give me an opportunity of detecting him, and of\njustifying myself; which can only be done by your mentioning the\nparticulars of which I am accused. You say, that I myself know that I\nhave been false to you; but I say it loudly, and will say it to the\nwhole world, that I know the contrary; that I know my friendship towards\nyou has been unbounded and uninterrupted; and that though I have given\nyou instances of it, which have been universally remarked both in France\nand England, the public as yet are acquainted only with the smallest\npart of it. I demand, that you name to me the man who dares assert the\ncontrary; and, above all, I demand, that he shall mention any one\nparticular in which I have been wanting to you. You owe this to me; you\nowe it to yourself; you owe it to truth, and honour, and justice, and to\nevery thing deemed sacred among men. As an innocent man--for I will not\nsay, as your friend; I will not say, as your benefactor; but I repeat\nit, as an innocent man, I claim the privilege of proving my innocence,\nand of refuting any scandalous falsehood which may have been invented\nagainst me. Mr. Davenport, to whom I have sent a copy of your letter,\nand who will read this before he delivers it, will, I am confident,\nsecond my demand, and tell you that nothing can be more equitable.\nHappily I have preserved the letter you wrote me after your arrival at\nWooton; and you there express, in the strongest terms, in terms indeed\ntoo strong, your satisfaction in my poor endeavours to serve you. The\nlittle epistolary intercourse, which afterwards passed between us, has\nbeen all employed on my side to the most friendly purposes. Tell me,\nthen, what has since given you offence. Tell me, of what I am accused.\nTell me the man who accuses me. Even after you have fulfilled all these\nconditions to my satisfaction, and to that of Mr. Davenport, you will\nstill have great difficulty to justify your employing such outrageous\nterms towards a man, with whom you have been so intimately connected,\nand who was entitled, on many accounts, to have been treated by you with\nmore regard and decency.\n\n\"Mr. Davenport knows the whole transaction about your pension, because I\nthought it necessary that the person who had undertaken your settlement\nshould be fully acquainted with your circumstances; lest he should be\ntempted to perform towards you concealed acts of generosity, which, if\nthey accidentally came to your knowledge, might give you some grounds of\noffence. I am, sir,\" &c.[328:1]\n\n\nIn here exhibiting a few of the prominent features of the quarrel\nbetween Hume and Rousseau, there is no intention of entering on a\ndefence of Hume, or a full examination of the conduct of the parties.\nViewing it as a picturesque incident in literary history, the reader\nwill probably feel an interest in such new light as may be thrown upon\nit on the present occasion; but, it is presumed that few who have made\nthemselves acquainted with the material circumstances of the dispute, as\nthey have been already made known, will expect any thing to be said that\ncan alter their appreciation of the conduct of the parties. Where there\nare personal disputes, there is no cause so hopelessly bad as to be\nwithout partisans; and when no other motive comes into action, a feeling\nof generosity towards one who seems to have forfeited the good opinion\nof his kind, calls forth a few vindicators and supporters. It was\nnatural that Rousseau, a man of great genius, whose writings had\nproduced a prodigious influence on his age,--one who had shown, in many\ninstances, the outward manifestations of a kind unselfish disposition,\nand who had discarded, with an air of magnanimous scorn, all the\ngrovelling ties that bind the human creature to the earth on which he\ncrawls,--should have champions and supporters in any dispute in which he\nmight be involved, be his conduct what it might. Thus he had a few\nvindicators, chiefly of the female sex, while he lived: but gradually,\nwhen feelings of personal sympathy had died away, the conduct of the\ndisputants ceased to be weighed against each other in the same scales.\nPeople did not inquire which of them had acted more fairly and justly\nthan the other; but, putting Rousseau's conduct out of the question as a\ncriterion, they asked, whether that of Hume was kind and magnanimous\ntowards the unfortunate monomaniac?[329:1] Although this view is plainly\nto be traced in the sentiments of those who have fugitively touched on\nthe dispute, it is to be gathered more from the general tone of their\nremarks, than from any direct avowal of belief, that Rousseau was a\nmonomaniac.[331:1] There is a majesty in genius, that makes us reluctant\nthus to ally it with the debasement of the human intellect. Yet, too\noften, some portion of the most brilliant mind is thus eclipsed, though\nthe brightness of what is clear prevents our seeing easily the blackened\nspot. In Rousseau's case, there has been, perhaps, a disinclination to\nadmit the \"plea of insanity,\" on account of the wonderful practical\nsagacity that accompanied his aberrations. Though apparently surveying\nthe world with a sick and careless eye, he occasionally penetrated into\nthe depths of the human heart, and marked its secrets, with an accuracy\nthat made the practised and systematic observer's survey seem but a\nsuperficial glance. He had a mind at times eminently practical,[332:1]\nand suited to estimate men's conduct and character: and thus appearing\nbefore the world, there has been much hesitation to pronounce, that the\nsincerity of insanity accompanied all his vile charges against a man\nwhose heart could not have been for one moment visited by the atrocities\nof which he is accused.\n\nIt is clear, that whatever had been Hume's conduct in the affair,\nRousseau's rage was a storm predestined to burst upon him. Its elements\nwere in the mind of \"the self-torturing sophist,\" not in the conduct of\nany other person; and whoever was the object nearest to his thoughts at\nthe moment, as being most associated with the circumstances in which he\nwas placed, had to stand the shock. In this view, Hume's conduct is no\nmore to be tested by that of Rousseau, than the keeper's by that of his\npatient. We are thus rid of the unpleasant employment of comparing\nthings which cannot bear comparison; and of the sickening task of\nenumerating instances of kindness, attachment, persevering good offices,\nand charitable interpretations of conduct on the one side, met by black\ningratitude, contempt, and deadly injury on the other.\n\nIf we look for that over-excited propensity which may have caused this\nmental disease, it appears, beyond doubt, that it was vanity.[333:1]\nAll Rousseau's avowed misfortunes are the calamities of celebrity. At\none time he is the victim of princes and prime ministers; at another, of\nan assembled clergy; at another, of half the learned men of Europe. That\nhe is neglected and forgotten is never among his ostensible complaints;\nthough there is good reason to believe that it was at the bottom of his\nmost conspicuous fits of fury. The English people, though they were at\nfirst somewhat curious about the remarkable stranger, did not incommode\nthemselves about him, and obstinately abstained from following him into\nthe wilderness. In his long letter of charges, he cannot help bitterly\nremarking the apathy of the public; but he states it as an accusation\nagainst Hume,[333:2] whom he supposes to have said, like Flavius,\n\n                               I'll about\n     And drive away the vulgar from the streets:\n     So do you too, where you perceive them thick.\n     These growing feathers, pluck'd from C\u00e6sar's wing,\n     Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,\n     Who else would soar above the view of men,\n     And keep us all in servile fearfulness.\n\nHad the solitudes of Wooton been peopled by multitudes anxious to catch\na passing glance of the \"apostle of affliction,\" he would doubtless have\nlet loose his half-appeased discontent in some querulous letters about\nthe impossibility of his finding repose and solitude; but he would not\nhave courted such a conflict as he rushed into in the bitterness of his\nsolitude. Although his character stands without parallel in its own vast\nproportions, it is not without abundance of exemplifications on a\nsmaller scale. There are few who have not, in their journey through\nlife, encountered one or more small Rousseaus, in men of ravenous and\ninsatiable vanity, who, unlike the ordinary good-natured vain men, are\nperpetually rejecting the incense offered to their appetite, and\ndemanding some new form of worship. In these, as in the chimney-piece\nmodels of celebrated statues, may we view the proportions of the great\nself-tormenter's mind; and when it is found that the peculiarity is\ngenerally accompanied with some observable amount of intellectual\nacquirements, which place the individual a degree above those who\nsurround him, the resemblance is the more complete. Vanity being its\nsource, the shape assumed by his monomania was a dread of conspiracies\nin all shapes; and he was as sincere a believer in their existence, as\nany unfortunate inhabitant of bedlam has ever been in the creations of\nhis diseased mind.[334:1]\n\nHume had difficulty in extracting an answer to his letter of 26th June;\nand probably it would not have been opened without the intervention of\nMr. Davenport. It was one of Rousseau's whims for some time not to\nreceive any letters; he said they were one of the methods by which his\nenemies had persecuted him. On his first arrival he was to open none but\nthose which passed through the hands of his _Cher Patron_;[335:1] a\nconvenient arrangement, as it afterwards enabled him to accuse Hume of\ntampering with his correspondence.\n\nTwo letters were received from Mr. Davenport, before Rousseau drew up\nhis charge.\n\n\nMR. DAVENPORT _to_ HUME.\n\n     _Davenport, June 30, 1766._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--The receipt of your two last gave me much\n     uneasiness, which was augmented by some letters received\n     yesterday from Rousseau, along with yours, directed for me at\n     Wooton. Surely there must have been some excessive great\n     mistakes. It appears to me a heap of confusion, of which I can\n     make neither head nor tail. His letter to you is perfectly\n     astonishing: never any thing was so furious; so--I protest I\n     don't know what to call it! I long to see him: he certainly\n     will tell some reason or other that could induce him to write\n     in that manner. Till I have seen him I can give no sort of\n     answer to your queries, as he never spoke one syllable to me\n     about any difference at all. I can't, possibly, before\n     Saturday's post; as in this part of the country we have only\n     three days in a week to send letters to town. You desired me\n     to burn the duplicate after reading. That signifies nothing,\n     for I can send you the other which I received yesterday from\n     Wooton. Good God, he must be most excessively out of the way\n     about this pension! In short, I have not patience to add one\n     word more, till I hear what he can possibly have to say; and\n     then I'll immediately acquaint you.\n\n     I can't help being troubled at seeing your uneasiness, and\n     will with great pleasure do all in my power to assist in\n     freeing you from it; at least I'll do my best endeavours. I\n     am, your most obedient humble servant,\n\n                                               R. DAVENPORT.\n\n\n     _6th July, 1766._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I went over to Wooton on Tuesday: had a long\n     conference with Mr. Rousseau on the subject of your last\n     letters; gave into his hands yours addressed to him, (which he\n     had not read before:) showed him those I received from you;\n     and in the most earnest manner insisted upon his giving you an\n     open answer to all your questions, which I told him you had\n     certainly a right to ask, and he could not have any pretence\n     whatever to refuse. His spirits seemed vastly fluttered.\n     However, he told me a long history of the whole affair. I\n     said, that as my knowledge of the French language was very\n     imperfect, I might easily misrepresent things, so begged him\n     to write down the whole matter. Before he began his discourse,\n     I could not help speaking a deal to him on the subject of the\n     pension, and expressed my astonishment at his even ever having\n     had the least thought of refusing the favours of the greatest\n     king in the world. To my infinite surprise, he directly\n     returned this answer, That he never had refused, or any thing\n     like it; spoke with the greatest respect and veneration of his\n     majesty, and with all sort of acknowledgments of gratitude to\n     General Conway, &c. You may well imagine my surprise\n     increased. He then began his story: but that I entirely leave\n     to his pen, as he has faithfully promised to perform. I am\n     really sorry for him; he's uneasy, frets perpetually, and\n     looks terribly. 'Tis almost impossible to conceive the oddness\n     of his extreme sensibility; so that I conclude, when he's\n     guilty of an error, his nerves are more in fault than his\n     heart. Things vex him to the utmost extent of vexation, which\n     would not even move such a dull soul as mine is. In short, I\n     perceive his disorder is jealousy: he thinks you are fond of\n     some _savans hommes_, whom he unfortunately calls his enemies.\n     It will give me the greatest satisfaction to hear that you\n     have received a satisfactory answer, and that every thing is\n     set right again.[337:1]\n\nAt last came the full outpouring of the long-treasured wrath, in a\nletter dated the 10th of July, as long as an ordinary pamphlet, and\npenned with the same neat precision as its predecessor. The reader will\nnot expect a document so well known and easily accessible to be\nreprinted; and an abridgment would fail to give any notion of the rabid\neloquence with which the most paltry incidents are made to assume the\nappearance of portentous charges; until, through vehemence of expression\nand multitude of powerful words, they seem for the moment to acquire\nsubstantial shape. Many of the charges contained in this \"indictment\"\nhave been already alluded to. The document begins with a statement of\nits author's candour,[337:2] and hatred of every kind of artifice; and\nno one can read the charges which follow, monstrously absurd as they\nare, without seeing that they are made in the perfect sincerity of a\nmind that saw all things through its own diseased medium. The following\nis one of the substantive charges:--\n\n     I was informed that the son of the quack Tronchin,[338:1] my\n     most mortal enemy, was not only the friend of Mr. Hume, and\n     under his protection, but that they both lodged in the same\n     house; and when Mr. Hume found that I knew this, he imparted\n     it in confidence to me; assuring me that the son by no means\n     resembled the father. I lodged a few nights myself, together\n     with my governante, in the same house; and from the kind of\n     reception with which we were honoured by the landladies, who\n     are his friends, I judged in what manner either Mr. Hume, or\n     that man, who, as he said, was by no means like his father,\n     must have spoken to them both of her and me.\n\n     All these facts put together, added to a certain appearance of\n     things on the whole, insensibly gave me an uneasiness, which I\n     rejected with horror.\n\nThe description of the following scene must have been, to those who knew\nHume personally, irresistibly ludicrous. The picture of the phlegmatic\nreserve of English manners, is made perfect by contrast. It appears from\nHume's letter, that the scene arose out of the dispute about the return\nchaise.\n\n     One evening, after supper, as we were sitting silent by the\n     fireside, I caught his eyes intently fixed on me, as indeed\n     happened very often; and that in a manner of which it is very\n     difficult to give an idea. At that time he gave me a\n     steadfast, piercing look, mingled with a sneer, which greatly\n     disturbed me. To get rid of my embarrassment, I endeavoured to\n     look full at him in my turn; but, in fixing my eyes upon his,\n     I felt the most inexpressible terror, and was soon obliged to\n     turn them away. The speech and physiognomy of the good David\n     are those of an honest man; but where, great God! did this\n     honest man borrow those eyes which he fixes on his friends?\n\n     The impression of this look remained with me, and gave me much\n     uneasiness. My trouble increased even to a degree of fainting;\n     and if I had not been relieved by a flood of tears, I must\n     have been suffocated. Presently after this I was seized with\n     the most violent remorse: I even despised myself; till at\n     length, in a transport, which I still remember with delight, I\n     sprang on his neck, and embraced him eagerly; while, almost\n     choked with sobbing, and bathed in tears, I cried out, in\n     broken accents, \"No, no, David Hume cannot be treacherous; if\n     he be not the best of men, he must be the basest.\" David Hume\n     politely returned my embraces, and gently tapping me on the\n     back, repeated several times, in a placid tone, \"Why, what, my\n     dear sir! Nay, my dear sir! Oh, my dear sir!\" He said nothing\n     more. I felt my heart yearn within me. We went to bed; and I\n     set out the next day for the country.\n\nThere is another charge against Hume, of once muttering in his sleep the\nwords _Je tiens J. J. Rousseau_; which he did not deny, saying, that he\ncould not feel certain as to what he might or might not have done when\nasleep, though he doubted if it was his practice to dream in\nFrench.[339:1] The proffered hospitalities and kindnesses of Hume are a\nrunning charge throughout; wound up with the conclusion, that as he must\nhave seen that Rousseau was estranged from him, \"If he supposed that in\nsuch circumstances I should have accepted his services, he must have\nsupposed me to have been an infamous scoundrel. It was then in behalf of\na man whom he supposed to be a scoundrel that he so warmly solicited a\npension from his majesty.\"[340:1]\n\nHume's answer to this charge was as follows:\n\n\nHUME _to_ ROUSSEAU.\n\n     _Lisle Street, Leicester Fields, July 22, 1766._\n\n     SIR,--I shall only answer one article of your long letter: it\n     is that which regards the conversation we had the evening\n     before your departure. Mr. Davenport had contrived a\n     good-natured artifice, to make you believe that a retour\n     chaise was ready to set out for Wooton; and I believe he\n     caused an advertisement be put in the papers, in order the\n     better to deceive you. His purpose only was to save you some\n     expenses in the journey, which I thought a laudable project;\n     though I had no hand either in contriving or conducting it.\n     You entertained, however, a suspicion of his design, while we\n     were sitting alone by my fireside; and you reproached me with\n     concurring in it. I endeavoured to pacify you, and to divert\n     the discourse; but to no purpose. You sat sullen, and was\n     either silent, or made me very peevish answers. At last you\n     rose up, and took a turn or two about the room, when all of a\n     sudden, and to my great surprise, you clapped yourself on my\n     knee, threw your arms about my neck, kissed me with seeming\n     ardour, and bedewed my face with tears. You exclaimed, \"My\n     dear friend, can you ever pardon this folly? After all the\n     pains you have taken to serve me, after the numberless\n     instances of friendship you have given me, here I reward you\n     with this ill-humour and sullenness. But your forgiveness of\n     me will be a new instance of your friendship; and I hope you\n     will find at bottom, that my heart is not unworthy of it.\"\n\n     I was very much affected, I own; and I believe a very tender\n     scene passed between us. You added, by way of compliment no\n     doubt, that though I had many better titles to recommend me to\n     posterity, yet perhaps my uncommon attachment to a poor,\n     unhappy, and persecuted man, would not be altogether\n     overlooked.\n\n     This incident was somewhat remarkable; and it is impossible\n     that either you or I could so soon have forgot it. But you\n     have had the assurance to tell me the story twice, in a manner\n     so different, or rather so opposite, that when I persist, as I\n     do, in this account, it necessarily follows, that either you\n     are, or I am, a liar. You imagine, perhaps, that because the\n     incident passed privately without a witness, the question will\n     lie between the credibility of your assertion and of mine. But\n     you shall not have this advantage or disadvantage, whichever\n     you are pleased to term it. I shall produce against you other\n     proofs, which will put the matter beyond controversy.\n\n     First, You are not aware, that I have a letter under your\n     hand, which is tolerably irreconcilable with your account, and\n     confirms mine.[343:1]\n\n     Secondly, I told the story the next day, or the day after, to\n     Mr. Davenport, with a view of preventing any such good-natured\n     artifices for the future. He surely remembers it.\n\n     Thirdly, As I thought the story much to your honour, I told it\n     to several of my friends here. I even wrote it to Madame de\n     Boufflers at Paris. I believe no one will imagine that I was\n     preparing beforehand an apology, in case of a rupture with\n     you; which, of all human events, I should then have thought\n     the most incredible, especially as we were separated, almost\n     for ever, and I still continued to render you the most\n     essential services.\n\n     Fourthly, The story, as I tell it, is consistent and rational:\n     there is not common sense in your account. What! because\n     sometimes, when absent in thought, (a circumstance common\n     enough with men whose minds are intensely occupied,) I have a\n     fixed look or stare, you suspect me to be a traitor, and you\n     have the assurance to tell me of such black and ridiculous\n     suspicions! For you do not even pretend that before you left\n     London you had any other solid grounds of suspicion against\n     me.\n\n     I shall enter into no detail with regard to your letter: you\n     yourself well know that all the other articles of it are\n     without foundation. I shall only add in general, that I\n     enjoyed about a month ago an uncommon pleasure, in thinking\n     that, in spite of many difficulties, I had, by assiduity and\n     care, and even beyond my most sanguine expectations, provided\n     for your repose, honour, and fortune. But that pleasure was\n     soon imbittered, by finding that you had voluntarily and\n     wantonly thrown away all those advantages, and was become the\n     declared enemy of your own repose, fortune, and honour: I\n     cannot be surprised after this that you are my enemy. Adieu,\n     and for ever.[344:1]\n\nHume did not profess to submit to these attacks with the meekness of the\ndove, as a few letters to his friends will show. Of the two following\nletters to Blair, the one was written before, the other after the\nreception of Rousseau's \"indictment.\"\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_Lisle Street, 1st July, 1766._\n\n\"You will be surprised, dear Doctor, when I desire you most earnestly\nnever in your life to show to any mortal creature the letters I wrote\nyou with regard to Rousseau. He is surely the blackest and most\natrocious villain, beyond comparison, that now exists in the world, and\nI am heartily ashamed of any thing I ever wrote in his favour. I know\nyou will pity me when I tell you that I am afraid I must publish this to\nthe world in a pamphlet, which must contain an account of the whole\ntransaction between us.[344:2] My only comfort is, that the matter will\nbe so clear as not to leave to any mortal the smallest possibility of\ndoubt. You know how dangerous any controversy on a disputable point\nwould be with a man of his talents. I know not where the miscreant will\nnow retire to, in order to hide his head from this infamy. I am,\"\n&c.[345:1]\n\n\n\"_15th July, 1766._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--I go in a few hours to Woburn; so can only give you the\noutline of my history. Through many difficulties I obtained a pension\nfor Rousseau. The application was made with his own consent and\nknowledge. I write him, that all is happily completed, and he need only\ndraw for the money. He answers me, that I am a rogue and a rascal; and\nhave brought him into England merely to dishonour him. I demand the\nreason of this strange language; and Mr. Davenport, the gentleman with\nwhom he lives, tells him that he must necessarily satisfy me. To-day I\nreceived a letter from him, which is perfect frenzy. It would make a\ngood eighteen-penny pamphlet; and I fancy he intends to publish it. He\nthere tells me, that D'Alembert, Horace Walpole, and I, had, from the\nfirst, entered into a combination to ruin him, and had ruined him. That\nthe first suspicion of my treachery arose in him while we lay together\nin the same room of an inn in France. I there spoke in my sleep, and\nbetrayed my intention of ruining him. That young Tronchin lodged in the\nsame house with me at London; and Annie Elliot looked very coldly at him\nas he went by her in the passage. That I am also in a close confederacy\nwith Lord Lyttelton, who, he hears, is his mortal enemy. That the\nEnglish nation were very fond of him on his first arrival; but that\nHorace Walpole and I had totally alienated them from him. He owns,\nhowever, that his belief of my treachery went no higher than suspicion,\nwhile he was in London; but it rose to certainty after he arrived in the\ncountry; for that there were several publications in the papers against\nhim, which could have proceeded from nobody but me, or my confederate,\nHorace Walpole. The rest is all of a like strain, intermixed with many\nlies and much malice. I own that I was very anxious about this affair,\nbut this letter has totally relieved me. I write in a hurry, merely to\nsatisfy your curiosity. I hope soon to see you, and am,\" &c.[346:1]\n\n\nThere could have been no incident better calculated than this to create\na sensation in the coteries of Paris. Immediately on receiving the first\nangry letter, Hume sent an indignant account of the ingratitude and\nmalevolence of Rousseau to the Baron D'Holbach, which proved a\ndelightfully exciting morsel to a party assembled at his house; for the\nbaron had told him, from the beginning, that he was warming a serpent in\nhis bosom.[346:2] The very rapid celebrity which the story received does\nnot seem to have been anticipated by Hume, and he says, apologetically,\nto Madame de Boufflers,--\"I wrote, indeed, to Baron D'Holbach, without\neither recommending or expecting secrecy: but I thought this story, like\nothers, would be told to eight or ten people; in a week or two, twenty\nor thirty more might hear it, and it would require three months before\nit would reach you at Pougues. I little imagined that a private story,\ntold to a private gentleman, could run over a whole kingdom in a moment.\nIf the King of England had declared war against the King of France, it\ncould not have been more suddenly the subject of conversation.\"[346:3]\nBetween the rupture and the publication of the narrative regarding it,\nHume seems to have written very abundantly on the subject, to his\nfriends in Paris. The following is one of his letters:--\n\n\nHUME _to the_ ABB\u00c9 LE BLANC.\n\n     _Lisle Street, Leicester Fields, 12th August, 1766._\n\n     MY DEAR SIR,--I have used the freedom to send to you, in two\n     packets, by this post, the whole train of my correspondence\n     with Rousseau, connected by a short narrative. I hope you will\n     have leisure to peruse it. The story is incredible, as well as\n     inconceivable, were it not founded on such authentic\n     documents. Surely never was there so much wickedness and\n     madness combined in one human creature; nor did ever any one\n     meet with such a return for such signal services as those I\n     performed towards him. But I am told that he used to say to\n     Duclos, and others, that he hated all those to whom he owed\n     any obligation. In that case I am fully entitled to his\n     animosity.\n\n     I am really at a loss what use to make of this collection. The\n     story, I am told, is very much the object of conversation at\n     Paris. Though my conduct has been entirely innocent, or\n     rather, indeed, very meritorious, it happens, no doubt, as is\n     usual in such ruptures, that I will bear a part of the blame;\n     from which a publication of these papers would entirely free\n     me: yet I own I have an antipathy and reluctance to appeal to\n     the public; and fear that such a publication would be the only\n     blame I could incur in this affair. You know that nobody's\n     judgment weighs farther with me than yours: think a little of\n     the matter. If M{me.} De Dupr\u00e9 were in town, I would desire\n     her to give these papers a perusal, and tell me her opinions.\n     Unhappily M. Trudaine would only understand the French part,\n     which is by far the most considerable. What would his friend\n     Fontenelle have done in this situation?\n\n     I am as great a lover of peace as he, and have kept myself as\n     free from all literary quarrels; but surely neither he nor any\n     other person was ever engaged in a controversy with a man of\n     so much malice,--of such a profligate disposition to lies, and\n     such great talents. It is nothing to dispute my style or my\n     abilities as an historian or philosopher; my books ought to\n     answer for themselves, or they are not worth the\n     defending;--to fifty writers who have attacked me on this\n     head, I never made the least reply. But this is a different\n     case; imputations are here thrown on my morals and my conduct;\n     and, though my case is so clear as not to admit of the least\n     controversy, yet it is only clear to those who know it; and I\n     am uncertain how far the public in Paris are in this case. At\n     London, a publication would be regarded as entirely\n     superfluous.\n\n     I must desire you to send these papers to D'Alembert after you\n     have read them: M. Turgot will get them from him. I should\n     desire that _he_ saw them before he sets out for his\n     government.\n\n     Does not M{me.} de Montigny laugh at me, that I should have\n     sent her, but a few weeks ago, the portrait of Rousseau, done\n     from an original in my possession, and should now send you\n     these papers, which prove him to be one of the worst men,\n     perhaps, that ever existed, if his frenzy be not some apology\n     for him. I beg my compliments to M. and M{me.} Fourqueux; and\n     am, with great truth and sincerity, my dear sir, your most\n     affectionate humble servant.[348:1]\n\nTo Adam Smith, who was then in Paris, he wrote the following letter,\nwithout date:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"You may see in M. D'Alembert's hands, the whole narrative of my affair\nwith Rousseau, along with the whole train of correspondence. Pray, is it\nnot a nice problem, whether he be not an arrant villain, or an arrant\nmadman, or both. The last is my opinion, but the villain seems to me to\npredominate most in his character. I shall not publish them unless\nforced, which you will own to be a very great degree of self-denial. My\nconduct in this affair would do me a great deal of honour, and his would\nblast him for ever, and blast his writings at the same time; for as\nthese have been exalted much above their merit, when his personal\ncharacter falls, they would of course fall below their merit. I am,\nhowever, apprehensive that in the end I shall be obliged to publish.\nAbout two or three days ago, there was an article in the _St. James's\nChronicle_, copied from the _Brussels Gazette_, which pointed at this\ndispute. This may probably put Rousseau in a rage. He will publish\nsomething, which may oblige me for my own honour to give the narrative\nto the public. There will be no reason to dread a long train of\ndisagreeable controversy. One publication begins and ends it on my side.\nPray, tell me your judgment of my work, if it deserves the name. Tell\nD'Alembert I make him absolute master, to retrench or alter what he\nthinks proper, in order to suit it to the latitude of Paris.\n\n\"Were you and I together, dear Smith, we should shed tears at present\nfor the death of poor Sir James Macdonald. We could not possibly have\nsuffered a greater loss, than in that valuable young man. I am,\"\n&c.[349:1]\n\n\nThere is a letter by Smith on the subject, kind and honest. It must be\nkept in view, that it was written not only before the series of\ndocuments, mentioned in Hume's letter, had been sent to France, and\nbefore the French friends had recommended Hume to publish, but before\nthe date of Rousseau's indictment. We shall, hereafter, find that Smith\nseems to have withdrawn his objection to the publication.\n\n\nADAM SMITH _to_ HUME.\n\n     _Paris, 6th July, 1766._\n\n     MY DEAR FRIEND,--I am thoroughly convinced that Rousseau is as\n     great a rascal as you and as every man here believes him to\n     be; yet let me beg of you, not to think of publishing any\n     thing to the world, upon the very great impertinence which he\n     has been guilty of to you. By refusing the pension which you\n     had the goodness to solicit for him with his own consent, he\n     may have thrown, by the baseness of his proceedings, some\n     little ridicule upon you in the eyes of the court and the\n     ministry. Stand this ridicule, expose his brutal letter, but\n     without giving it out of your own hand, so that it may never\n     be printed; and if you can, laugh at yourself, and I shall\n     pawn my life, that before three weeks are at an end, this\n     little affair, which at present gives you so much uneasiness,\n     shall be understood to do you as much honour as any thing that\n     has ever happened to you. By endeavouring to unmask before the\n     public this hypocritical pedant, you run the risk of\n     disturbing the tranquillity of your whole life. By letting him\n     alone, he cannot give you a fortnight's uneasiness. To write\n     against him is, you may depend upon it, the very thing he\n     wishes you to do. He is in danger of falling into obscurity in\n     England, and he hopes to make himself considerable, by\n     provoking an illustrious adversary. He will have a great\n     party: the Church, the Whigs, the Jacobites, the whole wise\n     English nation, who will love to mortify a Scotchman, and to\n     applaud a man who has refused a pension from the king. It is\n     not unlikely, too, that they may pay him very well for having\n     refused it, and that even he may have had in view this\n     compensation. Your whole friends here wish you not to\n     write--the Baron,[350:1] D'Alembert, Madame Riccoboni,\n     Mademoiselle Rianecourt, M. Turgot, &c. &c. M. Turgot, a\n     friend every way worthy of you, desired me to recommend this\n     advice to you in a particular manner, as his most earnest\n     entreaty and opinion. He and I are both afraid that you are\n     surrounded with evil counsellors, and that the advice of your\n     English literati, who are themselves accustomed to publish all\n     their little gossiping stories in newspapers, may have too\n     much influence upon you. Remember me to Mr. Walpole, and\n     believe me, &c.\n\nSmith was thus in consultation on the subject with the excellent Turgot,\nwho gave Hume his opinion at great length. On the 27th July, before he\ncould have heard of the long \"indictment,\" he wrote[351:1] that he could\ntrace the rage of Rousseau to two causes: first, Hume being the author\nof one of the sarcasms in Walpole's letter, a rumour which Turgot\nappears to have believed; and second, the interpreting the letter to Mr.\nConway as a refusal of the pension, which it was not intended by\nRousseau to be. If the latter was one of Rousseau's grievances, he did\nnot make it a count in the indictment. Turgot was ignorant of the\nstrength of provocation which Hume received. He says, that it is a\nmistake to suppose Rousseau's conduct the effect of deliberate\ndesign,--a view in which every one not in the vortex of the dispute must\nhave coincided with him; and on the ground that no sensible person will\nbelieve that he is guilty of the charges his excited enemy may make\nagainst him, he advises Hume not to treat them seriously. He even hints\nthat Hume should acknowledge that he misinterpreted the letter about the\npension, and should endeavour to coax Rousseau back to good humour, as a\npublic exposure would be unpleasant to both parties. On the 7th\nSeptember, after having seen all the documents, he preserved the same\ntone in speaking of Rousseau; recommending forbearance towards him: but\nat the same time he expressed an opinion that Hume might find it\nnecessary to publish a narrative of the transaction.[352:1]\n\nWe find that Smith was also in communication with Madame de Boufflers,\nwho wrote to Hume at considerable length, in the knowledge of the first\nangry letter, but not of the \"indictment.\" She assumes a tone much the\nsame as that of Turgot, when he wrote in the same circumstances. She\nexpresses many regrets that Hume should have written so condemnatory a\nletter to the Baron D'Holbach. He is told that those who _profess_ to be\nhis friends in France will abet him, because he is proving himself to be\na mere ordinary human being, instead of continuing to show his\nsuperiority to the common frailties of humanity. He is entreated to look\ncompassionately on a man who has overwhelmed himself with calamities,\nand to treat one who is capable only of injuring himself with generous\npity. While making these recommendations, she, as well as Turgot,\nbelieved that one of the sarcasms in Walpole's letter had been suggested\nby Hume.[354:1] The same tone was taken up by Lord Marischal; who,\nwriting on the 15th August from Potsdam, seems not to have perused the\n\"indictment.\" \"You did all in your power,\" says this kind old soldier,\n\"to serve him; his \u00e9cart afflicts me on his account more than yours, who\nhave, I am sure, nothing to reproach yourself with. It will be good and\nhumane in you, and like Le Bon David, not to answer.\"[354:2]\n\nD'Alembert was at first opposed to a publication, and to an exposure of\nthe follies of the wise before \"cette sotte b\u00eate appel\u00e9e le public.\" So\nearly, however, as the 21st of July, he communicates the solemn opinion\nof himself and other friends in Paris, that after the publicity which\nthe dispute has acquired, it will be necessary for Hume to print a\nnarrative.[354:3] He states that this is the opinion of all intelligent\npeople. He says at the same time, that he had been speaking with Adam\nSmith on the subject, and though his name is not among those of the\ncommittee who recommended the publication, it may be presumed that he\nhad at length admitted it to be necessary.\n\nIn connexion with the letter from D'Alembert, Hume wrote thus to\nWalpole:--\n\n     DEAR SIR,--When I came home last night, I found on my table a\n     very long letter from D'Alembert, who tells me, that on\n     receiving from me an account of my affair with Rousseau, he\n     summoned a meeting of all my literary friends at Paris, and\n     found them all unanimously of the same opinion with himself,\n     and of a contrary opinion to me, with regard to my conduct.\n     They all think I ought to give to the public a narrative of\n     the whole. However, I persist still more closely in my first\n     opinion, especially after receiving the last mad letter.\n     D'Alembert tells me that it is of great importance for me to\n     justify myself from having any hand in the letter from the\n     King of Prussia. I am told by Crawford, that you had wrote it\n     a fortnight before I left Paris, but did not show it to a\n     mortal, for fear of hurting me; a delicacy of which I am very\n     sensible. Pray recollect if it was so. Though I do not intend\n     to publish, I am collecting all the original pieces, and I\n     shall connect them by a concise narrative. It is necessary for\n     me to have that letter and Rousseau's answer. Pray, assist me\n     in this work. About what time, do you think, were they\n     printed? I am, &c.[355:1]\n\nHume, afterwards, sent to Paris all the documents connected with\nRousseau's attack, to be published or not, at the discretion of his\nfriends; and they were published. If it be asked how he permitted so\ncruel a thing to be done, the answer is, that he was human, and had been\ndeeply injured; that he had a reputation to preserve, and did not\nconsider himself bound to sacrifice it to the peace of his assailant.\nRousseau had triumphantly written, hither and thither, that Hume dared\nnot publish the \"indictment.\" He had said, that if he did not see David\nHume exposed ere he died, he would cease to believe in Providence. He\nwas occupied in writing his celebrated Confessions, and had\nsignificantly hinted to Hume that he would find himself pilloried there.\nIt is possible to create an ideal image of a mind that would have calmly\nresisted all these impulses, and let the traducer proceed unnoticed in\nhis frantic labours. It is probable that if he had adopted this course,\nHume would in the end have been as completely absolved from the\naccusations of Rousseau, as he was by the publication of the accusation.\nHad he thus scorned to adopt the usual means of protecting his good\nname, his character would have appeared, to all who believed in his\ninnocence, more magnanimous than it was. But it certainly would not have\nbeen so natural; and many of those who seemed to have expected that the\nmetaphysician should be above the influence of ordinary human passions,\nappear to have forgotten, that there are few even of the men whose\noffice it is to teach that those smitten on the one cheek should present\nthe other, who would have shown even as much forbearance on the occasion\nas David Hume.\n\nThe editing of the French version of these documents was committed to\nSuard, the author of the M\u00e9langes de Litt\u00e9rature. In answer to a letter\nof 2d November,[357:1] announcing the publication, Hume wrote to him in\nthe following terms, admitting, as the reader will perceive, that he had\nused harsh expressions, and approving of their being softened.\n\n\nHUME _to_ M. SUARD.\n\n     I cannot sufficiently express, my dear sir, all the\n     acknowledgments which I owe you for the pains you have taken\n     in translating a work, which so little merited your attention,\n     or the attention of the public. It is done entirely to my\n     satisfaction; and the introduction in particular is wrote with\n     great prudence and discretion in every point, except where\n     your partiality to me appears too strongly. I accept of it,\n     however, very willingly as a pledge of your friendship. You\n     and M. D'Alembert did well in softening some expressions,\n     especially in the notes; and I shall take care to follow these\n     corrections in the English edition. My paper, indeed, was not\n     wrote for the public eye; and nothing but a train of\n     unforeseen accidents could have engaged me to give it to the\n     press. I am not surprised, that those who do not consider nor\n     weigh those circumstances, should blame this appeal to the\n     public; but it is certain that if I had persevered in keeping\n     silence, I should have passed for the guilty person, and those\n     very people who blame me at present, would, with the\n     appearance of reason, have thrown a much greater blame upon\n     me. This whole adventure, I must regard as a misfortune in my\n     life: and yet, even after all is past, when it is easy to\n     correct any errors, I am not sensible that I can accuse myself\n     of any imprudence; except in accepting of this man when he\n     threw himself into my arms: and yet it would then have\n     appeared cruel to refuse him. I am excusable for not expecting\n     to meet with such a prodigy of pride and ferocity, because\n     such a one never before existed. But after he had declared war\n     against me in so violent a manner, it could not have been\n     prudent in me to keep silence towards my friends, and to wait\n     till he should find a proper time to stab my reputation. From\n     my friends, the affair passed to the public, who interested\n     themselves more in a private story, than it was possible to\n     imagine; and rendered it quite necessary to lay the whole\n     before them. Yet, after all, if any one be pleased to think,\n     that by greater prudence I could have avoided this\n     disagreeable extremity, I am very willing to submit. It is not\n     surely the first imprudence I have been guilty of.[358:1]\n\nAmong other distinctions, the publication of the controversy brought\nHume a letter from Voltaire, in which the patriarch gave the history of\nhis own grievances against Rousseau, with all his usual sarcasm; and\nsaid, of that absorbing vanity for which he might have had more fellow\nfeeling, that Rousseau, believing himself worthy of a statue, thought\none half of the world was occupied in raising it on its pedestal, and\nthe other in pulling it down.[358:2]\n\nThis little collection, bearing the title, \"Expos\u00e9 succint de la\ncontestation qui s'est \u00e9l\u00e9v\u00e9e entre M. Hume et M. Rousseau, avec les\npieces justificatives,\" was soon afterwards published in English, under\nHume's own superintendence. He judiciously observed, that a translation\nwould undoubtedly appear, and that it was more honest, and at the same\ntime more conducive to his reputation, that he should himself\nsuperintend the publication.\n\nHe had intimated, that as Rousseau would probably impugn the genuineness\nof the letters as they appeared in print, he would deposit the originals\nin a public library. In this view, he addressed the following letter to\nthe librarian of the British Museum.\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 23d Jan. 1767._\n\n\"SIR,--As M. Rousseau had wrote to several of his correspondents, that I\nnever dared to publish the letters which he had wrote me; or if I\npublished them they would be so falsified that they would not be the\nsame, I was obliged to say in my preface, that the originals would be\nconsigned in the Museum. I hope you have no objection to the receiving\nthem. I send them by my friend M. Ramsay. Be so good as to give them the\ncorner of any drawer. I fancy few people will trouble you by desiring a\nsight of them. All the world seems to be satisfied concerning the\nfoundation of that unhappy affair. Yet notwithstanding, I own, that I\nnever in my life took a step with so much reluctance as the consenting\nto that publication. But as it appeared absolutely necessary to all my\nfriends at Paris, I could not withstand their united opinion. I have\nalso sent the original of M. Walpole's letter to me, which enters into\nthe collection. I am, sir, your most obedient, and most humble\nservant.\"[360:1]\n\n\nIt appears that the trustees of the British Museum, for some one or\nother of the inscrutable reasons which occasionally sway the counsels of\nsuch bodies, declined to receive this very curious collection of\ndocuments. Dr. Maty, writing to Hume on 22d April, 1767, says, \"I longed\nto have some conversation with you on the subject of the papers, which\nwere remitted to me by the hands of M{r.} Ramsay, and as our trustees\ndid not think proper to receive them, to restore them into yours. With\nrespect to these papers, give me leave to assure you, that I had never\nany doubt about the merits of the cause. I have long ago fixed my\nopinion about R----'s character, and think madness is the only excuse\nthat can be offered for his inconsistencies.\"[360:2]\n\nThose original letters connected with the controversy, which were\naddressed to Hume, whether by Rousseau or others, are among the papers\nin possession of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. They bear marks of\nhaving been much handled.[360:3] Of the letters addressed to Rousseau,\nwhich of course were written in French, it is to be presumed that Hume\npreserved the duplicates, which afterwards enabled him to show copies of\nthe documents on both sides. The originals probably do not exist; for\nRousseau, who held his own part in a controversy as the only important\none, appears not to have kept the letters addressed to him, though he\nretained copies of his own.\n\nThe dispute with Rousseau very nearly produced a subsidiary discussion\nwith Horace Walpole. He said, alluding to the advice which had been\ntransmitted to Hume by D'Alembert, \"Your set of literary friends are\nwhat a set of literary men are apt to be, exceedingly absurd. They hold\na consistory to consult how to argue with a madman; and they think it\nvery necessary for your character, to give them the pleasure of seeing\nRousseau exposed; not because he has provoked you, but them. If Rousseau\nprints, you must; but I certainly would not, till he does.\"\n\nWalpole evidently looked on this quarrel as a small dispute between\nsmall people;--something on a par with the wrangling of country\ngentlemen about their preserves and their swing gates.[361:1] Yet, when\nhe found that his own name appeared to be connected with it, he thought\nit right to publish \"a narrative of what passed relative to the quarrel\nof Mr. David Hume and J. J. Rousseau, as far as Mr. Horace Walpole was\nconcerned in it.\" He very distinctly absolves Hume from any connexion\nwith the fictitious letter of the King of Prussia. The only wrong of\nwhich he had to complain was, that Hume published this exoneration, of\nwhich it seems a publication was not expected, though the letter\ncontained the words, \"You are at full liberty, dear sir, to make use of\nwhat I say in your justification, either to Rousseau or any body else;\"\nand that, in printing the letter, the passage above cited, reflecting on\nthe literary circle of Paris, had been, from motives of delicacy towards\nall parties, suppressed.[362:1]\n\nThe only portion of Walpole's pamphlet that appears to possess any\ninterest, contains Hume's remarks on his friend, D'Alembert. They were\nintended as an answer to Walpole's spiteful sneers; but, though\neulogistic, and apparently just, they by no means exhibit a violent\nencomiastic zeal.\n\n     D'Alembert is a very agreeable companion, and of\n     irreproachable morals. By refusing great offers from the\n     Czarina and the King of Prussia, he has shown himself above\n     interest and vain ambition. He lives in an agreeable retreat\n     at Paris, suitable to a man of letters. He has five pensions:\n     one from the King of Prussia, one from the French King, one as\n     member of the Academy of Sciences, one as member of the French\n     Academy, and one from his own family. The whole amount of\n     these is not six thousand livres a-year; on the half of which\n     he lives decently, and gives the other half to poor people\n     with whom he is connected. In a word, I scarce know a man,\n     who, with some few exceptions, (for there must always be some\n     exceptions,) is a better model of a _virtuous_ and\n     _philosophical_ character.\n\n     You see I venture still to join these two epithets as\n     inseparable, and almost synonymous, though you seem inclined\n     to regard them almost as incompatible. And here I have a\n     strong inclination to say a few words in vindication, both of\n     myself and my friends; venturing even to comprehend you in the\n     number. What new prepossession has seized you, to beat in so\n     outrageous a manner your nurses of Mount Helicon, and to join\n     the outcry of the ignorant multitude against science and\n     literature? For my part, I can scarce acknowledge any other\n     ground of distinction between one age and another, between one\n     nation and another, than their different progress in learning\n     and the arts. I do not say between one man and another,\n     because the qualities of the heart and temper, and natural\n     understanding, are the most essential to the personal\n     character; but being, I suppose, almost equal among nations\n     and ages, do not serve to throw a peculiar lustre on any. You\n     blame France for its fond admiration of men of genius; and\n     there may no doubt be, in particular instances, a great\n     ridicule in these affectations; but the sentiment, in general,\n     was equally conspicuous in ancient Greece; in Rome, during its\n     flourishing period; in modern Italy; and even, perhaps, in\n     England about the beginning of this century. If the case be\n     now otherwise, it is what we are to lament and be ashamed of.\n     Our enemies will only infer, that we are a nation which was\n     once, at best, but half civilized; and is now relapsing fast\n     into barbarism, ignorance, and superstition. I beg you also\n     to consider the great difference, in point of morals, between\n     uncultivated and civilized ages. But I find I am launching out\n     insensibly into an immense ocean of commonplace. I cut the\n     matter, therefore, short, by declaring it as my opinion, that\n     if you had been born a barbarian, and had every day cooked\n     your dinner of horse flesh, by riding on it fifty miles\n     between your breech and the shoulder of your horse, you had\n     certainly been an obliging, good-natured, friendly man; but,\n     at the same time, that reading, conversation, and travel, have\n     detracted nothing from these virtues, and have made a\n     considerable addition of other valuable and agreeable\n     qualities to them. I remain, not with ancient sincerity, which\n     was only roguery and hypocrisy, but very sincerely, dear sir,\n     &c.\n\nRousseau did not resign his pension, and made it be very distinctly\nknown that he would insist upon his claims to be paid what had been\npromised; but he would not owe it to the intervention of David Hume. He\ncontinued to reside for several months at Wooton, where he made some\nprogress in his renowned \"Confessions.\" \"He is, I am sure,\" says Mr.\nDavenport, in one of his letters, \"busy writing; and it should be some\nlarge affair, from the quantity of paper he bought.\" Like other mental\npatients, when long separated from his favourite excitement, his mind\nbecame attuned to less tumultuous movements; and he ceased, in some\nmeasure, to feel the want of notoriety. The visions of conspiracy and\ntreachery gradually disappeared, and now we find him, in his letters,\nonly saying; \"Je n'ai rien \u00e0 dire de M. Hume, sinon que je le trouve\nbien insultant pour un bon homme, et bien bruyant pour un philosophe.\"\nHe had a genuine love of nature and of rural pursuits; and he appears to\nhave varied his literary labours, by joining in some projects of Mr.\nDavenport for the cultivation of forest lands.\n\nWriting to Blair, on 14th February, 1767, Hume says:--\n\n\n\"General Conway told me, on my arrival, that Rousseau had made an\napplication to him, through the canal of Mr. Davenport, to have his\npension granted to him. The general's answer was, that I was to be in\ntown in a few days; and, without my consent, and even full approbation,\nhe would take no step in that affair. You may believe that I exhorted\nhim to do so charitable an action. I wish he may not find a difficulty\nwith the King, who is very much prejudiced against Rousseau.[365:1] This\nstep of my old friend confirms the suspicion which I always entertained,\nthat he thought he had interest enough to obtain the pension of himself;\nand that he had only picked a quarrel with me in order to free himself\nfrom the humiliating burden of gratitude towards me. His motives,\ntherefore, were much blacker than many seem to apprehend them.\n\n\"A gentleman told me that he heard, from the French ambassador, that his\nmost Christian Majesty had given an arr\u00eat, prohibiting, under the\nseverest penalties, the printing, vending, or dispersing, any paper of\nRousseau, or his partisans, against me. I dine with the ambassador\nto-day, so shall know the truth of the matter, which scarce appears\ncredible. It is surely very honourable for me; but yet will occasion\nthat strange man to complain, that he is oppressed with power all over\nthe world. I am,\"[365:2] &c.\n\n\nAt length, on the 31st of April, 1767, Rousseau and Mademoiselle Le\nVasseur suddenly disappeared from Wooton together. Hume thus describes\nthe incident in a letter to Blair:--\n\n\"You may, perhaps, have heard that Rousseau has eloped from Mr.\nDavenport, without giving any warning; leaving all his baggage, except\nMademoiselle, about thirty pounds in Davenport's hands, and a letter on\nthe table, abusing him in the most violent terms, insinuating that he\nwas in a conspiracy with me to ruin him.[366:1] He took the road to\nLondon, but was missing for about a fortnight. At last he emerges at\nSpalding in Lincolnshire, whence he writes a letter to the Chancellor,\ninforming him that the bad usage he had met with in England, made it\nabsolutely necessary for him to evacuate the kingdom, and desiring his\nlordship to send him a guard to escort him to Dover--this being the last\nact of hospitality he will desire of the nation. He is plainly mad,\nthough I believe not more than he has been all his life. The pamphlet\nyou mention was wrote by one as mad as himself, and it was believed at\nfirst to be by Tristram Shandy, but proves to be [by] one Fuseli an\nengraver. He is a fanatical admirer of Rousseau, but owns he was in the\nwrong to me. The pamphlet I sent to you was wrote by an English\nclergyman, whom I never saw; a man of character, and rising in the\nchurch,[366:2] for which reason it is more prudent in me to conceal his\nname. When would _you_ have done so much for me.\"[367:1]\n\nAs Rousseau did not favour the world in his \"Confessions,\" with the\nadventures he encountered during this flight, it is of some interest, in\nthe absence of a personal narrative, to mark the impression produced by\nthe incident on an onlooker, whom it seems to have filled with mingled\nfeelings of compassion and astonishment. The following are some extracts\nfrom Mr. Davenport's letters to Hume:--\n\n\nMR. DAVENPORT _to_ HUME.\n\n     _Davenport, 13th May, 1767._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--After all my inquiries, I can't, for the life of\n     me, find out to what part my wild philosopher is fled. I sent\n     after him some papers, thinking they would most certainly find\n     him in London. No such matter: he is not to be found there.\n     They scarce took any thing along with them, but what they\n     carried on their backs. All the trunks, &c. are at Wooton; and\n     this odd man has just packed up his things, and left the keys\n     dangling at the locks of his boxes. No sort of direction for\n     me, though he knows I am in his debt between \u00a330 and \u00a340; and\n     I want, of all things, to inform him what he has to do in\n     relation to his majesty's bounty, which I am sure he will with\n     great satisfaction receive, because I have it so positively\n     under his own hand. You shall have the joy of perusing his\n     letter; but one dated about six days before must be added to\n     it. At present my gout is too much upon me to write copies of\n     them. Pray, if you hear where he is, do me the pleasure to\n     inform me. I am, &c. &c.\n\n     P.S.--I protest I pity him more and more, as I certainly\n     conclude that his head is not quite right.\n\n\n     _Davenport, Monday 18th._\n\n     I can't help giving you the trouble of this. Last night I\n     received a most melancholy letter from poor Rousseau, dated\n     Spalding in Lincolnshire. How, or on what account, he got to\n     that place, I can't for the life of me guess; but this I\n     learn, that he is most excessively sick of his situation, and\n     is returning to Wooton, as soon as, I suppose, he can well get\n     there. He has been all the time at an inn in that town. Pray,\n     was the place you mentioned to me in that county, any where\n     near Spalding? I own to you, I was quite moved to read his\n     mournful epistle. I am quite confirmed in my opinion of him:\n     this last from him, is entirely different in style, from any I\n     ever yet received. I have in my answer, desired he would write\n     to some friend of his in town, to authorize him to receive his\n     majesty's bounty, as it becomes due. I have told him that his\n     agent must apply, and show his letter to Mr. Lounds of the\n     Treasury. Poor Rousseau writes of nothing but his misery,\n     illness, afflictions; in a word, of his being the most\n     unfortunate man that ever existed. Good God! most of those\n     distresses are surely occasioned by his own unhappy temper,\n     which I really believe is not in his power to alter! so, let\n     him be where he will, I fear he is certain to be uneasy. His\n     passion for Botany has, as I conjecture, almost left him. If I\n     am right in my guess, I have no sort of doubt, but he will\n     again take to his pen, as 'tis impossible for his imagination\n     to remain idle. I am, &c.\n\n\n     _Davenport, May 25, 1767._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--'Tis with the greatest satisfaction I hear, this\n     poor unfortunate man will enjoy the pension. I am sure he lies\n     under a thousand obligations to you, and am extremely glad he\n     has wrote to General Conway. I hope he made use of at least\n     some expressions of gratitude and respect to that gentleman,\n     whose goodness of heart obtained this favour from his majesty.\n\n     I am sure you'll do your endeavour to save him from the\n     Bastile, or (which I more fear) the Archbishop of Paris'\n     prison.\n\n     He wrote me a letter from Spalding, dated 11th, in which he\n     says, I have great reason to be offended at his manner of\n     leaving Wooton. He says,--\n\n     Je pr\u00e9f\u00e9rois la libert\u00e9, au s\u00e9jour de votre maison; ce\n     sentiment est bien excusable. Mais je pr\u00e9f\u00e8re infiniment le\n     s\u00e9jour de votre maison \u00e0 tout autre captivit\u00e9, et je\n     pr\u00e9f\u00e9rerois toute captivit\u00e9 \u00e0 celle o\u00f9 je suis, qui est\n     horrible, et qui, quoiqu'il arrive ne sauroit durer. Si vous\n     voulez bien Monsieur me recevoir derechef chez vous, je suis\n     pr\u00eat \u00e0 m'y rendre au cas qu'on m'en laisse la libert\u00e9, et\n     quand j'y serois apr\u00e8s l'exp\u00e9rience qui j'ai faite,\n     difficilement serois-je tent\u00e9 d'en ressortir pour chercher de\n     nouveaux malheurs. Si ma proposition vous agr\u00e9e, t\u00e2chez,\n     Monsieur de me le faire savoir par quelque voie s\u00fbre, et de\n     faciliter mon retour d'ici chez vous.\n\n     He repeats the same request of sending to him two or three\n     times. This which he sent on the 11th, I received on the 17th.\n     On the 18th I despatched a servant to Spalding: instead of\n     staying for my answer, behold, on the 14th he set out for\n     Dover, and on that morning wrote again by the post to me, in\n     which he says, that if he had any assurance this letter of the\n     11th would come to me, and that I would agree to his\n     proposals, and again receive him, he should certainly stay for\n     an answer; but as he despaired of my receiving his, so he was\n     determined to pass the Channel, and I should hear from him\n     when he reached Calais, and quite sure of his liberty; that he\n     would write from thence and make me a very singular\n     proposition. He professes the greatest regard for me, &c. The\n     next is dated, Dover, 18th May, where he says, that he chose\n     to write to me from that place; that seeing the sea, and\n     finding he was in reality a free man, and might either go or\n     stay,--then, says he, I stopped, and intended to return to\n     you; but by chance seeing in a public paper how my departure\n     from Wooton was treated, caused him immediately to renounce\n     that idea. He finishes with many compliments, but without\n     telling me where to write to him, and I long to know how to\n     address my letters. Before he left Wooton, he disposed of\n     several long gowns amongst the poor people, went off in an old\n     French dress, and got a blue coat made for him at Spalding.\n     Pray, can you inform me who he has authorized to receive his\n     majesty's bounty; because I think I may pay into their hands\n     the money I have of his in mine. I should be pleased if you\n     could be so kind as to inform me what date his letter bore,\n     which he wrote to the Lord Chancellor. I am, dear sir, &c.\n\n\n     _4th July, 1767._\n\n     This week I received a letter from Rousseau, dated, Fleury\n     under Meudon, wrote with great complaisance; he returns a\n     thousand thanks for all the civilities he received from me at\n     Wooton; says that he is not fixed as to the place of his\n     future residence, but that he will inform me as soon as he has\n     made choice of one.\n\n     The style of this is vastly different from some of the last of\n     those which he wrote in England; no mention of captivities, no\n     wild imaginations of any kind, but entirely calm and composed.\n     I heartily wish he may continue so, then sure he will be\n     somewhat happy. I am, &c.\n\n\n     _6th July, 1767._\n\n     The good woman who is called my housekeeper was my nurse, near\n     ninety, and more than three parts blind. Mad{lle} and she\n     never could agree. I have heard something of the story of the\n     kettle and cinders,[370:1] but am inclinable to believe my\n     philosopher's resolutions were determined before that fray\n     happened. His governante has an absolute power over him, and\n     without doubt more or less influences all his actions. You\n     certainly guess right about the unaccountable quarrel with\n     you, to whom he has so many and great obligations: nay, I am\n     almost sure he very heartily repents and inwardly wants to be\n     reconciled. He has desired to hear from me often, and promises\n     to let me know how he goes on, as soon as ever he is the least\n     fixed. What he was writing, is the same he mentioned to you,\n     will be a large work, containing at least twelve volumes. I\n     am positively certain that when I left him, he had not\n     entirely finished one. There's nothing in it which in any\n     shape relates to state affairs or to ministers of state.\n\n     You shall see his letter the first opportunity; but, God help\n     him! I can't, for pity, give a copy; and 'tis so much mixed\n     with his own poor little private concerns, that it would not\n     be right in me to do it. . . . I am, dear sir, &c.[371:1]\n\nIn the following letters, Hume narrates these events to his Northern\nfriends, having been so frequently desired to give explanations of the\nrumours regarding Rousseau's escapades which occasionally reached\nScotland, that he found it most expedient to answer miscellaneous\ninquiries by general chronological narratives.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_27th May, 1767._\n\n\"Since you are curious to hear Rousseau's story, I shall tell you the\nsequel of it. A few days after his letter to the Chancellor, of which I\ninformed you, I got a letter from Davenport, who told me that he had\njust received a letter from Rousseau, dated at Spalding, wherein that\nwild philosopher, as he calls him, appeared very penitent, and contrite,\nand melancholy; and expressed his purpose of returning immediately to\nhis former retreat at Wooton. The same day, and nearly the same hour,\nGeneral Conway received a long letter from him, dated at Dover, about\ntwo hundred miles distant from Spalding. This great journey he had made\nin two days; and had probably set out immediately after writing the\nletter above-mentioned to Davenport.[372:1] This letter to General\nConway is the most frenzical imaginable. He there supposes that he was\nbrought into England by a plot of mine, in order to reduce him to\ninfamy, derision, and captivity. That General Conway, and all the most\nconsiderable personages of the nation, and the nation itself, had\nentered into this conspiracy. That he is at present actually a state\nprisoner in General Conway's hands, and has been so ever since his\narrival in the kingdom. He entreats him, however, to allow him the\nliberty of departing; warns him that it will not be safe to assassinate\nhim in private; as he is unhappily too well known not to have inquiries\nmade, if he should disappear on a sudden; and promises that if his\nrequest be granted, his memoirs shall never be printed to disgrace the\nEnglish ministry and the English nation.\n\n\"He owns that he has wrote such memoirs, the chief object of which was\nto deliver a faithful account of the treatment he has met with in\nEngland; but he promises, that the moment he sets foot on the French\nshore, he shall write to the friend in whose hand the manuscript is\ndeposited, to deliver it to the General, who may destroy it if he\npleases. He adds, that as it may be objected, that after recovering his\nliberty he may do as he pleases, he offers, as a pledge of his\nsincerity, to accept of his pension; after which he thinks no one will\nimagine he could be so infamous as to write against the king's ministers\nor his people. Amidst all this frenzy, he employs these terms as if a\nray of reason had for a moment broke into his mind. He says, speaking\nof himself in the third person, 'Non-seulement il abandonne pour\ntoujours le projet d'\u00e9crire sa vie et ses m\u00e9moires, mais il ne lui\n\u00e9chappera jamais, ni de bouche ni par \u00e9crit, un seul mot de plainte sur\nles malheurs qui lui sont arriv\u00e9s en Angleterre; il ne parlera jamais de\nM. Hume, ou il n'en parlera qu'avec honneur, et lorsqu'il sera press\u00e9 de\ns'expliquer sur quelques indiscr\u00e8tes plaintes, qui lui sont quelquefois\n\u00e9chapp\u00e9es dans le fort de ses peines, il les rejettera sans myst\u00e8re, sur\nson humeur aigrie et port\u00e9e \u00e0 la d\u00e9fiance, et aux ombrages par ce\nmalheureux penchant, ouvrage de ses malheurs, et qui maintenant y met le\ncomble.'[373:1]\n\n\"We hear that notwithstanding his imagined captivity, he has passed over\nto Calais; where he is likely to experience what real captivity is. I\nhave, however, used my persuasion with Mons{r} de Guerchi to represent\nhim to his court as a real madman, more an object of compassion than of\nanger. We shall no doubt see his Memoirs in a little time: which will be\nfull of eloquence and extravagance, though perhaps as reasonable as any\nof his past productions; for I do not imagine he was ever much more in\nhis senses than at present. I think I may be entirely without anxiety\nconcerning all his future productions.\"[374:1]\n\n\nThe following letters to Smith appear to have been intended as a\ncomprehensive history of the flight of Rousseau. The reader will readily\nexcuse the repetition of some incidents already mentioned, and may\nperhaps find an interest in comparing the impressions produced by the\nevents as they were successively occurring, with this general retrospect\nof the whole.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_London, 8th October, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--I shall give you an account of the late heteroclite\nexploits of Rousseau, as far as I can recollect them. There is no need\nof any secrecy: they are most of them pretty public, and are well known\nto every body that had curiosity to observe the actions of that strange,\nundefinable existence, whom one would be apt to imagine an imaginary\nbeing, though surely not an _ens rationis_.\n\n\"I believe you know, that in spring last, Rousseau applied to General\nConway to have his pension. The General answered to Mr. Davenport, who\ncarried the application, that I was expected to town in a few days; and\nwithout my consent and approbation he would take no steps in that\naffair. You may believe I readily gave my consent. I also solicited the\naffair, through the Treasury; and the whole being finished, I wrote to\nMr. Davenport, and desired him to inform his guest, that he needed only\nappoint any person to receive payment. Mr. Davenport answered me, that\nit was out of his power to execute my commission: for that his wild\nphilosopher, as he called him, had eloped of a sudden, leaving a great\npart of his baggage behind him, some money in Davenport's hands, and a\nletter on the table, as odd, he says, as the one he wrote to me, and\nimplying that Mr. Davenport was engaged with me in a treacherous\nconspiracy against him! He was not heard of for a fortnight, till the\nChancellor received a letter from him, dated at Spalding in\nLincolnshire; in which he said that he had been seduced into this\ncountry by a promise of hospitality; that he had met with the worst\nusage; that he was in danger of his life from the plots of his enemies;\nand that he applied to the Chancellor, as the first civil magistrate of\nthe kingdom, desiring him to appoint a guard at his own (Rousseau's)\nexpense, who might safely conduct him out of the kingdom. The Chancellor\nmade his secretary reply to him, that he was mistaken in the nature of\nthe country; for that the first post-boy he could apply to, was as safe\na guide as the Chancellor could appoint. At the very same time that\nRousseau wrote this letter to the Chancellor, he wrote to Davenport,\nthat he had eloped from him, actuated by a very natural desire, that of\nrecovering his liberty; but finding he must still be in captivity, he\npreferred that at Wooton: for his captivity at Spalding was intolerable\nbeyond all human patience, and he was at present the most wretched being\non the face of the globe: he would therefore return to Wooton, if he\nwere assured that Davenport would receive him.\n\n\"Here I must tell you, that the parson of Spalding was about two months\nago in London, and told Mr. Fitzherbert, from whom I had it, that he had\npassed several hours every day with Rousseau, while he was in that\nplace; that he was cheerful, good-humoured, easy, and enjoyed himself\nperfectly well, without the least fear or complaint of any kind. However\nthis may be, our hero, without waiting for any answer, either from the\nChancellor or Mr. Davenport, decamps on a sudden from Spalding, and\ntakes the road directly to Dover; whence he writes a letter to General\nConway, seven pages long, and full of the wildest extravagance in the\nworld. He says, that he had endured a captivity in England, which it was\nimpossible any longer to submit to. It was strange, that the greatest in\nthe nation, and the whole nation itself, should have been seduced by one\nprivate man, to serve his vengeance against another private man: he\nfound in every face that he was here the object of general derision and\naversion, and he was therefore infinitely desirous to remove from this\ncountry. He therefore begs the General to restore him to his liberty,\nand allow him to leave England; he warns him of the danger there may be\nof cutting his throat in private; as he is unhappily a man too well\nknown, not to have inquiries made after him, should he disappear of a\nsudden: he promises, on condition of his being permitted to depart the\nkingdom, to speak no ill of the king or country, or ministers, or even\nof Mr. Hume; as indeed, says he, I have perhaps no reason; my jealousy\nof him having probably arisen from my own suspicious temper, soured by\nmisfortunes. He says, that he wrote a volume of Memoirs, chiefly\nregarding the treatment he has met with in England; he has left it in\nsafe hands, and will order it to be burned, in case he be permitted to\ngo beyond seas, and nothing shall remain to the dishonour of the king\nand his ministers.\n\n\"This letter is very well wrote, so far as regards the style and\ncomposition; and the author is so vain of it, that he has given about\ncopies, as of a rare production. It is indeed, as General Conway says,\nthe composition of a whimsical man, not of a madman. But what is more\nremarkable, the very same post, he wrote to Davenport, that, having\narrived within sight of the sea, and finding he was really at liberty to\ngo or stay, as he pleased, he had intended voluntarily to return to him;\nbut seeing in a newspaper an account of his departure from Wooton, and\nconcluding his offences were too great to be forgiven, he was resolved\nto depart for France. Accordingly, without any farther preparation, and\nwithout waiting General Conway's answer, he took his passage in a packet\nboat, and went off that very evening. Thus, you see, he is a composition\nof whim, affectation, wickedness, vanity, and inquietude, with a very\nsmall if any ingredient of madness. He is always complaining of his\nhealth; yet I have scarce ever seen a more robust little man of his\nyears. He was tired in England; where he was neither persecuted nor\ncaressed, and where, he was sensible, he had exposed himself. He\nresolved, therefore, to leave it; and having no pretence, he is obliged\nto contrive all those absurdities, which he himself, extravagant as he\nis, gives no credit to. At least, this is the only key I can devise to\nhis character. The ruling qualities above-mentioned, together with\ningratitude, ferocity, and lying,--I need not mention eloquence and\ninvention,--form the whole of the composition.\n\n\"When he arrived at Paris, all my friends, who were likewise all his,\nagreed totally to neglect him. The public, too, disgusted with his\nmultiplied and indeed criminal extravagancies, showed no manner of\nconcern about him. Never was such a fall from the time I took him up,\nabout a year and a half before. I am told by D'Alembert and Horace\nWalpole, that, sensible of this great alteration, he endeavoured to\nregain his credit by acknowledging to every body his fault with regard\nto me: but all in vain: he has retired to a village in the mountains of\nAuvergne, as M. Durand tells me, where nobody inquires after him. He\nwill probably endeavour to recover his fame by new publications; and I\nexpect with some curiosity the reading of his Memoirs, which will I\nsuppose suffice to justify me in every body's eyes, and in my own, for\nthe publication of his letters and my narrative of the case. You will\nsee by the papers, that a new letter of his to M. D., which I imagine to\nbe Davenport, is published. This letter was probably wrote immediately\non his arrival at Paris; or perhaps is an effect of his usual\ninconsistence: I do not much concern myself which. Thus he has had the\nsatisfaction, during a time, of being much talked of, for his late\ntransactions; the thing in the world he most desires: but it has been at\nthe expense of being consigned to perpetual neglect and oblivion. My\ncompliments to Mr. Oswald; and also to Mrs. Smith. I am,\" &c.[378:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_London, 17th October, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--I sit down to correct a mistake or two in the former\naccount which I gave you of Rousseau. I saw Davenport a few days ago,\nwho tells me, that the letter inserted in all the newspapers, was never\naddressed to him. He even doubts its being genuine; both because he\nknows it to be opposite to all his sentiments with regard to me, to whom\nhe desires earnestly to be reconciled, and because it is too absurd and\nextravagant, and seems to be contrived rather as a banter upon him.\nDavenport added, that Rousseau was retired to some place in France, and\nhad changed his name and his dress:[379:1] but wrote to him that he was\nthe most miserable of all beings; that it was impossible for him to stay\nwhere he was; and that he would return to his old hermitage, if\nDavenport would accept of him. Indeed, he has some reason to be\nmortified with his reception in France; for Horace Walpole, who has very\nlately returned thence, tells me, that though Rousseau is settled at\nClich\u00e9, within a league of Paris, nobody inquires after him, nobody\nvisits him, nobody talks of him, every one has agreed to neglect and\ndisregard him: a more sudden revolution of fortune than almost ever\nhappened to any man--at least to any man of letters.\n\n\"I asked Mr. Davenport about those Memoirs, which Rousseau said he was\nwriting, and whether he had ever seen them. He said, yes, he had; it was\nprojected to be a work in twelve volumes; but he had as yet gone no\nfarther than the first volume, which he had entirely composed at Wooton.\nIt was charmingly wrote, and concluded with a very particular and\ninteresting account of his first love, the object of which was a person\nwhose first love it also was. Davenport, who is no bad judge, says, that\nthese Memoirs will be the most taking of all his works; and, indeed, you\nmay easily imagine what such a pen would make of such a subject as that\nI mentioned. Meanwhile it appears clearly, what I told you before, that\nhe is no more mad at present, than he has been during the whole course\nof his life, and that he is capable of the same efforts of genius. I\nthink I may wait in security his account of the transactions between us.\nBut, however, this incident, which I foresaw, is some justification of\nme for publishing his letters, and may apologise for a step, which you,\nand even myself, have been inclined sometimes to blame, and always to\nregret.\"[380:1]\n\n\nSo ended Rousseau's wild sojourn, in what he termed \"l'heureuse terre,\no\u00f9 sont n\u00e9s David Hume et le Mar\u00e9chal d'Ecosse.\" When the wounds\ninflicted on his benefactor by ungrateful actions and uncharitable\ninterpretations had been healed by time, and the conduct of him who had\noccasioned them was seen no longer through the excited medium of\nlacerated feelings, the hour had come for the just understanding to aid\nthe kind heart, in estimating the character of the assailant; for\nfinding that, deep as were the wounds he might inflict on others, there\nwas an arrow still more deeply buried in his own bosom; that\ncommiseration should take the place of resentment; and that the\nwanderer's footsteps should be accompanied by the prayer, that peace\nmight revisit his disturbed spirit. Hume felt, perhaps, what he could\nnot have expressed so well as one whose mind had too much in common with\nthat which he describes,\n\n     His life was one long war with self-sought foes;\n       Or friends by him self-banished; for his mind\n     Had grown Suspicion's sanctuary, and chose,\n       For its own cruel sacrifice, the kind,\n       'Gainst whom he raged with fury strange and blind.\n     But he was frenzied,--wherefore, who may know?\n       Since cause might be which skill could never find;\n     But he was frenzied by disease or woe,\n       To that worst pitch of all, which wears a reasoning show.\n\nHume was not a man given to the clamorous expression of contritions or\nregrets. It is in his silence and his subsequent acts that we find him\ndesirous to compensate for the punishment he had inflicted on his\nassailant. The letters of his French friends, during the summer of 1767,\nshow that he had earnestly exerted himself to protect Rousseau from the\nvengeance of the government;[381:1] and there is all reason to believe,\nthat it was through this intervention that the wanderer was permitted to\npursue his course in peace. On the other hand, when the dark cloud had\ncompletely passed away, the monomaniac appears to have awakened to a\ndistressing consciousness of what he had done. He afterwards attributed\nhis conduct in England to our foggy atmosphere, which had filled his\nmind with gloom and discontent; and the work at which he laboured busily\nwith the fierce excitement of him who forges a weapon to avenge his\nwrongs, stopped short at the very point where his narrative of injuries\nwas to commence.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[319:1] It might be expected, from the nature of Mr. Davenport's\nletters, that his descendants should be in possession of letters, either\nby Hume or Rousseau bearing on this curious passage of literary history.\nI believe I am committing no breach of private confidence in saying,\nthat this family, to whom I am indebted for many polite attentions, lost\nall such documents, along with other valuable papers. They were\ndestroyed by an attorney,--who at the same time put an end to his own\nlife.\n\n[320:1] This letter was written in French; and the person to whom it was\naddressed is not known. It was published in a miscellany, of which a\ntranslation (from which the above extract is made) appeared in 1799, as\n\"Original Letters of J. J. Rousseau, Butta Fuoco, and David Hume.\"\n\n[320:2] Private Correspondence, p. 153.\n\n[320:3] Expos\u00e9 Succinct.\n\n[320:4] See above, p. 304. One of Rousseau's favourite amusements was,\ndrawing a vehement picture of his misfortunes and his poverty; and after\nhaving thus laid a sort of trap, catching some benevolent person in the\nact of secretly attempting to aid him. Many of his letters are like\nthose of a petty dealer, who is afraid of being imposed on, and must see\nthat all the consignments are exact, as per invoice and account. The\nmatter of the return chaise already alluded to, slightly tinges the good\nhumour of the former of these letters. In the other, there are some\nremonstrances about a model of a bust of himself, which he will not take\nfrom the artist unless it is to be paid for. The same letter contains\nthe following passage, which the editors of the \"Expos\u00e9 Succinct\" did\nnot think it necessary to print. It illustrates Rousseau's occasional\nattention to small matters.\n\n\"Je vous suis oblig\u00e9 d'avoir bien voulu solder le m\u00e9moire de M. Stuart.\nJ'y trouve deux articles qui ne sont pas de ma connoissance. L'un de \u00a31\n14 pour du caf\u00e9, et l'autre de 5 sh. pour un moulin. Il est vrai que M.\nStuart avoit bien voulu se charger de ces commissions, mais je ne les ai\npoint recues ni avec mon bagage ni autrement, et n'en ai aucun avis que\npar son m\u00e9moire.\"\n\n[321:1] Though it has been repeated in so many other places, it seems\nnecessary, for the distinctness of the narrative, here to print this\nfamous letter.\n\n     \"Mon cher Jean Jacques,\n\n     \"Vous avez renonc\u00e9 \u00e0 Gen\u00e8ve, votre patrie. Vous vous \u00eates fait\n     chasser de la Suisse, pays tant vant\u00e9 dans vos \u00e9crits; la\n     France vous a d\u00e9cr\u00e9t\u00e9; venez donc chez moi. J'admire vos\n     talens; je m'amuse de vos r\u00eaveries qui (soit dit en passant)\n     vous occupent trop et trop longtemps. Il faut \u00e0 la fin \u00eatre\n     sage & heureux; vous avez fait assez parler de vous, par des\n     singularit\u00e9s peu convenables \u00e0 un v\u00e9ritable grand homme:\n     d\u00e9montrez \u00e0 vos enemis que vous pouvez avoir quelquefois le\n     sens commun: cela les f\u00e2chera sans vous faire tort. Mes \u00e9tats\n     vous offrent une retraite paisible: je vous veux du bien, & je\n     vous en ferai, si vous le trouvez bon. Mais si vous vous\n     obstinez \u00e0 rejetter mon secours, attendez-vous que je ne le\n     dirai \u00e0 personne. Si vous persistez \u00e0 vous creuser l'esprit\n     pour trouver de nouveaux malheurs, choisissez-les tels que\n     vous voudrez; je suis roi, je puis vous en procurer au gr\u00e9 de\n     vos souhaits; et, ce qui s\u00fbrement ne vous arrivera pas\n     vis-\u00e0-vis de vos ennemis, je cesserai de vous pers\u00e9cuter,\n     quand vous cesserez de mettre votre gloire \u00e0 l'\u00eatre. Votre bon\n     ami,\n\n                                                 FREDERICK.\"\n\nRousseau thought it worse than strange, that the person who wrote this\nletter should have been intrusted with the conveyance of a parcel to\nhim, holding it to be clear that Walpole must necessarily be a person\nwho could not be intrusted with his property. M. Musset Pathay, in his\n\"Vie de Rousseau,\" makes a serious charge against Hume, in connexion\nwith Walpole's conduct. Hume confessed his being present when one of the\npleasantries of the letter was uttered in conversation. \"Horace\nWalpole's letter,\" he says to Madame de Barbantane, \"was not founded on\nany pleasantry of mine. The only pleasantry in that letter came from his\nown mouth in my company, at Lord Ossory's table, which my lord remembers\nvery well.\" (_Private Correspondence_, p. 146.) On this passage, M.\nMusset says: \"Elle prouve que l'historien Anglais s'est permis une\nplaisanterie contre Jean Jacques, au moment m\u00eame ou, lui t\u00e9moignant le\nplus grand int\u00e9r\u00eat, il se pr\u00e9parait \u00e0 l'emmener en Angleterre. Ainsi, \u00e0\nl'\u00e9poque o\u00f9 David donnait \u00e0 Rousseau les plus grandes marques d'amiti\u00e9,\nil contribuait d'un c\u00f4t\u00e9 \u00e0 le rendre un objet de ridicule, par un bon\nmot qui fit partie du persiflage d'Horace Walpole,\" (i. 115.) If the\nreader thinks he here finds a French statesman announcing the rigid\ndoctrine of sincerity, that no man should patiently hear his friend's\nfoibles laughed at, he will find, on examining the passage, that M.\nMusset has chosen to speak of Hume as the _author_ of the jest. In\nharmony with this view he, innocently it is to be presumed, translates\nthe above sentence in Hume's letter thus:--\"La seule plaisanterie que je\nme sois permise relativement \u00e0 la pr\u00e9tendue lettre du roi de Prusse, fut\nfaite _par moi_ \u00e0 la table de Lord Ossory!\"\n\n[323:1] Private Correspondence, p. 133.\n\n[323:2] Madame de Boufflers writes on 6th May:--\n\n\"Je ne puis croire que le violent chagrin dont parle J. J. vienne de la\nlettre de M. Walpole, quoique s\u00fbrement elle l'a du beaucoup affecter. Je\ncrains bien plut\u00f4t que quelque d\u00e9go\u00fbt de M{elle.} Le Vasseur ou quelques\nquerelles entre eux n'en soit la cause; \u00e9claircissez cela de gr\u00e2ce, et\n\u00f4tez moi du l'inqui\u00e9tude o\u00f9 vous m'avez prise.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[324:1] That Hume was, in the meantime, quite unconscious of any cause\nof offence against himself, is evident from his writing to Madame de\nBoufflers, on 16th May:\n\n\"As to the deep calamity of which he complains, it is impossible for me\nto imagine it. I suppose it is some trifle, aggravated by his melancholy\ntemper and lively fancy. I shall endeavour to learn from Mr. Davenport,\nwho is just gone to that neighbourhood. Lady Aylesbury and General\nConway believe that it is Horace Walpole's letter which still torments\nhim. That letter was put into our newspapers; which produced an answer,\nfull of passion, and indeed of extravagance, complaining in the most\ntragical terms of the forgery, and lamenting that the impostor should\nfind any abettors and partisans in England. Mr. Walpole has wrote a\nreply, full of vivacity and wit, but sacrifices it to his humanity, and\nis resolved that no copy of it shall get abroad. He assures me that he,\nas well as Madame du Deffand, were entirely innocent of that publication\nat Paris: it was a lady, a friend of yours, who gave the first copy.\"\n_Private Correspondence_, pp. 170-171.\n\n[325:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[325:2] Musset Pathay, Vie de Rousseau, vol. i. p. 116. This gentleman\nconcludes that, within the space of twenty-four hours, Rousseau must\nhave had reason to change from the extremity of confidence in Hume, to a\nfull conviction of his guilt. But with all his desire to vindicate\nRousseau, his account of the manner in which this conclusion had been\nreached, does not tend to convince one that it was well founded.\n\n     \"Mais, d'apr\u00e8s l'\u00e9tude du caract\u00e8re de Rousseau, d'apr\u00e8s\n     l'observation qui prouve que, dans la solitude, l'imagination\n     s'effarouche ais\u00e9ment, il est plus naturel de croire que,\n     tout-\u00e0-coup, une multitude de circonstances s'offrirent \u00e0 la\n     fois \u00e0 la m\u00e9moire de Jean Jacques, et, quoique minutieuses en\n     elles m\u00eames, qu'elles devinrent, par leur nombre, et leur\n     co\u00efncidence, importantes et graves. Il ne fallait qu'un\n     incident pour les rendre telles, comme une goutte suffit pour\n     faire d\u00e9border un vase plein d'eau.\"\n\n[326:1] Printed documents of the controversy--Ritchie's Life of Hume.\n\n[328:1] Documents of the controversy, &c.\n\n[329:1] There is certainly one important exception to this method of\nviewing the matter, and that in a book otherwise of merit. One would\nhardly expect to meet with a work of the nineteenth century, containing\na serious vindication of Rousseau, as a sane man who was in the right in\nthis quarrel, while Hume was in the wrong. Yet some such task has been\nundertaken in the \"Histoire de la Vie et des Ouvrages de J. J.\nRousseau,\" by the late M. Musset Pathay, (1821,) which may be ranked\namong the boldest efforts of that school of biographers, whose principle\nis, that the hero of their tale must not be admitted to have had any\nvice or weakness. M. Musset's charges against Hume are much of the same\nmystical character with those made by Rousseau himself, and amount to\nthis, that there was something in the whole aspect of affairs not quite\nsatisfactory. He deals with some small matters of fact,--he is very\nindignant that Hume should, as he confesses, have tried to prevent\nRousseau from plunging into a distant solitude; and we have already seen\nthe effect which his zeal has had on his discrimination, in the affair\nof Walpole's letter. He makes one discovery, of which it would be unjust\nto deny him the full merit. Hume says, in his Vindication, \"It is with\nreluctance I say it, but I am compelled to it. I now know of a\ncertainty, that this affectation of extreme poverty and distress was a\nmere pretence, a petty kind of imposture, which M. Rousseau successfully\nemployed to excite the compassion of the public: but I was then very far\nfrom suspecting any such artifice.\" In a letter to Madame de Boufflers,\nhe says, \"I should be glad to know how your inquiries at M. Rougemont's\nhave turned out. It is only matter of mere curiosity: for even if the\nfact should prove against him, which is very improbable, I should only\nregard it as one weakness more, and do not make my good opinion of him\nto depend on a single incident.\" (_Private Correspondence_, p. 130.) Now\nRougemont was a banker, and M. Musset infers that Hume had been making\ninquiries as to Rousseau's pecuniary affairs. Perhaps, when he found a\nman proclaiming his destitution to all Europe, and flinging back, in the\nfaces of the givers, the assistance his importunities extracted from the\ncompassionate, it was not a very great crime to endeavour to ascertain\nthe truth of any rumour, that the misery was not so extreme as the\nsufferer painted it, and the necessity for their intervention not so\ngreat as the compassionate believed it to be. There is one letter from\nM. Rougemont among the MSS. R.S.E. dated 5th March, 1766. If it does not\ncontradict, it certainly does not confirm the theory of M. Musset. It is\ntoo long and commonplace to be here inserted in full. There is not a\nword in it about money matters; and it appears to be written in answer\nto some high praise of Rousseau by Hume. The banker says:\n\n\"L'opinion que vous avez de M. Rousseau ne me laisse plus aucun doute:\net c'est avec la plus grande satisfaction que je vois que mon\nenthusiasme ne m'a point aveugl\u00e9e; les d\u00e9tails que vous me faites, me\npersuadent encore plus de la v\u00e9rit\u00e9 d'une observation que vous avez\nfaite un soir; c'est, qu'il n'est qu'un homme ordinaire quand son coeur\nne sent rien.\" MS. R.S.E.\n\nOne might indeed infer, that Hume's inquiries were to discover whether\nthe solitude of Wooton would be likely to be favourable to Rousseau. M.\nRougemont thinks it would not. \"La solitude,\" he says, \"qui peut cesser\nquand on veut, peut avoir des charmes; mais je ne puis croire qu'il ne\nsoit pas fort malheureux d'\u00eatre n\u00e9cessairement priv\u00e9 de toute soci\u00e9t\u00e9.\"\nThe rest of his letter is devoted to Parisian literary gossip, with\nwhich the banker appears to have been ambitious of showing his\nacquaintance.\n\nIt is not when reviewing the conduct of Hume, but when recalling such\nobservations as those made by Dr. Johnson on Rousseau, that one is\ntempted to sympathize with M. Musset. Of the rigid moralist's opinions,\nBoswell gives us the following sketch:\n\n\"One evening, at the Mitre, Johnson said sarcastically to me, 'It seems,\nsir, you have kept very good company abroad: Rousseau and Wilkes!' I\nanswered, with a smile, 'My dear sir, you don't call Rousseau bad\ncompany: do you really think _him_ a bad man?' Johnson. 'Sir, if you are\ntalking jestingly of this, I don't talk with you. If you mean to be\nserious, I think him one of the worst of men; a rascal who ought to be\nhunted out of society as he has been. Three or four nations have\nexpelled him; and it is a shame that he is protected in this country.\nRousseau, sir, is a very bad man. I would sooner sign a sentence for his\ntransportation, than that of any felon who has gone from the Old Bailey\nthese many years. Yes, I should like to have him work in the\nplantations.'\"--Boswell, vol. ii. p. 314, ed. 1835.\n\n[331:1] A scientific gentleman, whose writings on medical jurisprudence\nare of high authority, and who had read the Hume and Rousseau\ncontroversy, observed to me, that Rousseau's case should have been\ntreated as one of monomania.\n\n[332:1] Whoever would notice the practical sagacity of Rousseau's\ngenius, may compare the early part of \"\u00c9mile,\" with \"Combe on the\nManagement of Infancy,\" and observe in how many things the theorist and\nthe scientific inquirer coincide.\n\n[333:1] \"We have had,\" says Burke, in his Reflections on the French\nRevolution, \"the great professor and founder of the philosophy of vanity\nin England. As I had good opportunities of knowing his proceedings,\nalmost from day to day, he left no doubt on my mind that he entertained\nno principle, either to influence his heart or guide his understanding,\nbut vanity: with this vice he was possessed to a degree little short of\nmadness.\"\n\n[333:2] D'Alembert writes to Hume, on 4th August:\n\n\"Il y a dans la dr\u00f4le de lettre de _ce joli petit homme_, comme vous\nl'appelliez autrefois, une phrase sacramentelle ou sacramentale, \u00e0\nlaquelle vous n'avez peut-\u00eatre pas fait autant d'attention qu'elle le\nm\u00e9rite; c'est que _le public, qui d'abord avoit et\u00e9 fort amoureux de\nlui, commen\u00e7a bient\u00f4t apr\u00e8s \u00e0 le n\u00e9gliger_. Voil\u00e0 ce qui le f\u00e2che\nv\u00e9ritablement, et il s'en prend \u00e0 qui il peut. Vous vous \u00eates charg\u00e9 de\nmontrer l'ours \u00e0 la foire; sa loge qui d'abord etoit pleine, est bient\u00f4t\nrest\u00e9e vuide, et il vous en rend responsable. Il est d'ailleurs tr\u00eas\ncertain, et je le s\u00e7ais de Duclos son ami, \u00e0 qui il l'a dit, ainsi qu'\u00e0\nbien d'autres, qu'il _ne peut pas souffrir toutes les personnes \u00e0 qui il\na obligation_: et sur ce pied l\u00e0, vous avez bien des droits \u00e0 sa haine.\"\nMS. R.S.E.\n\n[334:1] During his sojourn in England, he was in dread of being\nkidnapped. The late Professor Walker remembered being asked by Lord Bute\nto accompany Rousseau on a botanizing excursion on the banks of the\nThames, and that he was just explaining something about marine plants\nbeing acrid, when a Cockney pic-nic party of youths, dressed as sailors,\nlanded. Rousseau instantly took to his heels! The professor being\nresponsible for his safe restoration, followed, and, after a\nconsiderable chase, succeeded in running him down. Rousseau, seeing that\nthere were no other pursuers, passed the matter off by the observation\nthat marine _men_ were acrid. After his return from England, an account\nfor nine francs, which it appears he was not due, was presented against\nhim by a tradesman. He called on all Europe to witness this conspiracy\nto destroy his character, and raised such an outcry as must have\neffectually frightened sober tradesmen from overcharging interesting\nsolitaries.\n\n[335:1] Even his trusted friend, Du Peyrou, writing to Hume on 13th\nFebruary, after many eulogiums on his kindness to the unfortunate,\nsays:--\n\n\"C'est sous votre couvert qu' M. Rousseau m'a marqu\u00e9, Monsieur, que je\ndevois lui \u00e9crire: voudriez vous donc avoir la complaisance de lui faire\nparvenir l'incluse \u00e0 son adresse.\" MS. R.S.E.\n\n[337:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[337:2] He was a cordial hater of all uncandidness in others, whatever\nhe might be in his own case. Morellet tells a laughable anecdote of\nRousseau's presence on an occasion when some of the wicked wits of Paris\nwere what is commonly called \"trotting out\" a vain poet, and making him\nsay ridiculous things of his own genius. Rousseau, after walking\nrestlessly about the room, burst into a rage, told the poet that he was\na poor paltry idiot, and the company were only encouraging him to make\ngame of him.\n\n[338:1] An incident had just happened to make the name of the \"quack\nTronchin,\" peculiarly offensive. This distinguished physician had\nreceived public honours at Parma. After strenuous popular opposition, he\nhad been permitted to practise the new precautionary remedy of\ninoculation on the young prince Ferdinand. The experiment had been\nsuccessful; all Parma, excited by loyal joy, petitioned the Grand-duke\nto admit the physician to the rank of citizen. A tablet, commemorating\nthe triumph of science, was erected in the town hall, and a medal with\nsuitable devices was struck in honour of the operator. He was a relation\nof Tronchin the Procureur G\u00e9n\u00e9ral of Geneva, author of _Lettres \u00e9crites\nde la Campagne_, which Rousseau answered in _Lettres de la Montagne_.\nSee him mentioned above, p. 186.\n\n[339:1] Morellet questions if he _could_ have done so, i. 106.\n\n[340:1] The following jeu-d'esprit, which was printed in some of the\nperiodicals of the day, is really a pretty accurate abridgment of\nRousseau's paper. It has the appearance of having been written by a\nScottish lawyer:--\n\n\n_Heads of an Indictment laid by J. J. Rousseau, philosopher, against D.\nHume, Esq._\n\n     1. That the said David Hume, to the great scandal of\n     philosophy, and not having the fitness of things before his\n     eyes, did concert a plan with Mess. Tronchin, Voltaire, and\n     D'Alembert, to ruin the said J. J. Rousseau for ever, by\n     bringing him over to England, and there settling him to his\n     heart's content.\n\n     2. That the said David Hume did, with a malicious and\n     traitorous intent, procure, or cause to be procured, by\n     himself, or somebody else, one pension of the yearly value of\n     \u00a3100 or thereabouts, to be paid to the said J. J. Rousseau, on\n     account of his being a philosopher, either privately or\n     publicly, as to him the said J. J. Rousseau should seem meet.\n\n     3. That the said David Hume did, one night after he left\n     Paris, put the said J. J. Rousseau in bodily fear, by talking\n     in his sleep; although the said J. J. Rousseau doth not know\n     whether the said David Hume was really asleep, or whether he\n     shammed Abraham, or what he meant.\n\n     4. That, at another time, as the said David Hume and the said\n     J. J. Rousseau were sitting opposite each other by the\n     fireside in London, he, the said David Hume, did look at him,\n     the said J. J. Rousseau, in a manner of which it is difficult\n     to give any idea: That he, the said J. J. Rousseau, to get rid\n     of the embarrassment he was under, endeavoured to look full at\n     him, the said David Hume, in return, to try if he could not\n     stare him out of countenance; but in fixing his eyes against\n     his, the said David Hume's, he felt the most inexpressible\n     terror, and was obliged to turn them away, insomuch that the\n     said J. J. Rousseau doth in his heart think and believe, as\n     much as he believes any thing, that he, the said David Hume,\n     is a certain composition of a white-witch and a rattlesnake.\n\n     5. That the said David Hume on the same evening, after\n     politely returning the embraces of him, the said J. J.\n     Rousseau, and gently tapping him on the back, did repeat\n     several times, in a good-natured easy tone, the words, \"Why,\n     what, my dear sir! Nay, my dear sir! Oh, my dear sir!\" From\n     whence the said J. J. Rousseau doth conclude, as he thinks\n     upon solid and sufficient grounds, that he the said David Hume\n     is a traitor; albeit he, the said J. J. Rousseau, doth\n     acknowledge, that the physiognomy of the good David is that of\n     an honest man, all but those terrible eyes of his, which he\n     must have borrowed; but he the said J. J. Rousseau vows to God\n     he cannot conceive from whom or what.\n\n     6. That the said David Hume hath more inquisitiveness about\n     him than becometh a philosopher, and did never let slip an\n     opportunity of being alone with the governante of him the said\n     J. J. Rousseau.\n\n     7. That the said David Hume did most atrociously and\n     flagitiously put him, the said J. J. Rousseau, philosopher,\n     into a passion; as knowing that then he would be guilty of a\n     number of absurdities.\n\n     8. That the said David Hume must have published Mr. Walpole's\n     letter in the newspapers, because, at that time, there was\n     neither man, woman, nor child, in the island of Great Britain,\n     but the said David Hume, the said J. J. Rousseau, and the\n     printers of the several newspapers aforesaid.\n\n     9. That somebody in a certain magazine, and somebody else in a\n     certain newspaper, said something against him, the said John\n     James Rousseau, which he, the said J. J. Rousseau, is\n     persuaded, for the reason abovementioned, could be nobody but\n     the said David Hume.\n\n     10. That the said J. J. Rousseau knows, that he, the said\n     David Hume, did open and peruse the letters of him, the said\n     J. J. Rousseau, because he one day saw the said David Hume go\n     out of the room, after his own servant, who had, at that time,\n     a letter of the said J. J. Rousseau's in his hands; which\n     _must_ have been in order to take it from the servant, open\n     it, and read the contents.\n\n     11. That the said David Hume did, at the instigation of the\n     devil, in a most wicked and unnatural manner, send, or cause\n     to be sent, to the lodgings of him, the said J. J. Rousseau,\n     one dish of beefsteaks, thereby meaning to insinuate, that he,\n     the said J. J. Rousseau, was a beggar, and came over to\n     England to ask alms: whereas be it known to all men by these\n     presents, that he, the said John James Rousseau, brought with\n     him the means of subsistence, and did not come with an empty\n     purse; as he doubts not but he can live upon his labours--with\n     the assistance of his friends; and in short can do better\n     without the said David Hume than with him.\n\n     12. That besides all these facts put together, the said J. J.\n     Rousseau did not like a certain appearance of things on the\n     whole.\n\n[343:1] \"That of the 22d of March, which is full of cordiality, and\nproves that M. Rousseau had never, to that moment, entertained any of\nthose black suspicions of perfidy which he publishes at present. There\nis only in that letter a peevish passage about the affair of his\nchaise.\"--Hume.\n\n[344:1] Documents of the controversy.\n\n[344:2] Such was his first impulse. He evidently, after viewing the\nmatter more coolly, was disinclined to publish, but he was finally\nprevailed on to do so.\n\n[345:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[346:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[346:2] Morellet, i. 105.\n\n[346:3] Priv. Cor. 204.\n\n[348:1] Voltaire et Rousseau par Henry Lord Brougham, App. No. IX. Lord\nBrougham twice honoured me with an intimation that he had obtained\nletters of David Hume, in Paris, which were too late for his own \"Lives\nof Men of Letters,\" and were to be sent to _me_. While thankfully\nwaiting for their arrival, I observed, on the title page of his\nlordship's French lives of Voltaire and Rousseau, that the book\ncontained \"L\u00e9ttres enti\u00e8rement in\u00e9dites de _Hume_.\" Thinking it not\nimpossible that the letters destined for my use, had thus, by some\naccident, been diverted from their destination, I have printed them in\nthis book, according to their dates, in the fullest assurance of his\nlordship's cordial concurrence.\n\n[349:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[350:1] D'Holbach.\n\n[351:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[352:1]\n\n\"_A Paris, le 7 Septembre, 1766._\n\n\"J'ai trouv\u00e9 ici, monsieur, votre lettre de 5 Ao\u00fbt, \u00e0 mon retour d'un\nvoyage que j'ai \u00e9t\u00e9 faire en Normandie. D'Alembert, qui venoit alors de\nrecevoir votre r\u00e9cit de l'Histoire de Rousseau avec les lettres que vous\ny avez ins\u00e9r\u00e9es, me l'a communiqu\u00e9. Je vous crois \u00e0 pr\u00e9sent si ennuy\u00e9 de\ncette affaire que je ne sais si je dois encore vous en parler. M. De\nMontigni m'a cependant dit que vous d\u00e9siriez de savoir ma fa\u00e7on de\npenser. Vous imaginez bien qu'elle ne peut pas \u00eatre douteuse sur le fond\nde l'affaire, et je crois qu'except\u00e9 Rousseau, et peut-\u00eatre M{lle.} Le\nVasseur, il n'y a personne dans le monde qui s'imagine, ni qui eut\njamais imagin\u00e9, que vous ayez men\u00e9 Rousseau en Angleterre pour le\ntrahir, et \u00e0 qui sa longue lettre et ses d\u00e9monstrations ne fassent\npiti\u00e9. Mais je vous avoue que j'y vois toujours plus de folie que de\nnoirceur. J'y vois des sophismes dont une imagination se sert pour\nempoisonner les circonstances les plus simples et les transformer au gr\u00e9\nde la manie qui l'occupe. Mais je ne crois point que ces extravagances\nsoient un jeu jou\u00e9, et un pr\u00e9texte pour secouer le poids de la\nreconnoissance qu'il vous doit. Il paro\u00eet sentir lui m\u00eame que personne\nne le croira, et qu'il se couvre d'opprobre du moins pour le moment aux\nyeux du public. Il avoue qu'il sacrifie et son int\u00e9r\u00eat et m\u00eame sa\nr\u00e9putation: et il est certain que cette affaire lui fait un tort\nirr\u00e9parable, l'isole du genre humain, et lui \u00f4te tout appui contre les\npers\u00e9cutions auxquelles ses opinions et encore plus ces traits de sa\nmisanthropie l'exposeront toujours. Je persiste donc \u00e0 ne le croire que\nfou, et je suis afflig\u00e9 que l'impression trop vive qu'a faite sur vous\nsa folie vous ait mis dans le cas de la faire \u00e9clater et de la rendre\nirr\u00e9m\u00e9diable; car le bruit qu'\u00e0 fait votre lettre au Baron, est pour\nRousseau une d\u00e9monstration que ces conjectures \u00e9toient fond\u00e9es sur la\nv\u00e9rit\u00e9 m\u00eame. Il a bien mand\u00e9 \u00e0 Madame de Boufflers qu'il ne se plaignoit\npas, et que cette lettre qui vous a donn\u00e9 lieu de le diffamer comme le\ndernier des hommes n'\u00e9toit \u00e9crite qu'\u00e0 vous. L'\u00e9clat que vous avez fait,\nlui a fait tout le mal possible, et sa lettre ne vous en a fait aucun. .\n. . . . . Apr\u00e8s vous avoir dit aussi franchement mon avis, vous serez\nsurpris peut-\u00eatre de me voir presque revenu \u00e0 l'avis de faire imprimer.\nLa folie de Rousseau est telle qu'il a \u00e9crit ici diff\u00e9rentes lettres\ndans lesquelles il regarde votre trahison comme si constante, et les\nd\u00e9monstrations comme si terrassantes pour vous, qu'il vous d\u00e9fie de\npublier les pi\u00e8ces sans vous d\u00e9shonorer, \u00e0 moins que vous ne les\nfalsifiez; ce ne sont pas ses termes mais c'en est le sens. Si cette\nesp\u00e8ce de d\u00e9fi devenoit public \u00e0 un certain point, et faisoit plus\nd'impression en Angleterre qu'il n'en peut faire en France, peut-\u00eatre\nserez-vous oblig\u00e9 d'imprimer. Mais en ce cas je voudrois retrancher tout\nr\u00e9\u00e7it, toute imputation de mensonge, toutes notes except\u00e9 quelques unes\nn\u00e9cessaires pour r\u00e9tablir simplement les faits importans, comme celui de\nla sc\u00e8ne qui s'est pass\u00e9e la veille de son d\u00e9part pour Wooton. Encore\nvoudrois-je que dans ces notes vous disiez simplement le fait, sans\ntraiter Rousseau de menteur, sans vous abaisser \u00e0 le prouver. Vous devez\n\u00eatre cru sur ce que vous direz, et vous le serez. Je ne mettrois autre\nchose \u00e0 la t\u00eate, si non que les discours r\u00e9pandus sur la querelle, &c.\net l'esp\u00e8ce de d\u00e9fi que M. Rousseau vous fait d'en publier ce qui s'est\npass\u00e9, vous obligent \u00e0 regret \u00e0 publier les accusations de M. Rousseau\ncontre vous, et que vous croyez leur publication une r\u00e9ponse suffisante.\nVoil\u00e0 quel est actuellement mon penchant. Mais comme je ne vois \u00e0 cela\nrien de press\u00e9, je crois que vous ferez bien de vous donner tout le tems\nd'y r\u00e9fl\u00e9chir. Plus vous mettez dans cette affaire de mod\u00e9ration et m\u00eame\nd'indiff\u00e9rence, plus le tort de Rousseau deviendra \u00e9vident.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[354:1] The original of this letter is in the MSS. R.S.E. It is printed\nin Priv. Cor. p. 187.\n\n[354:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[354:3] \"Le hasard a voulu que la plus part de vos amis, et surtout ceux\n\u00e0 qui vous me conseillez de lire votre lettre, se soient trouv\u00e9s\nrassembl\u00e9s chez M{lle.} de L'Espinasse presque au moment que je l'ai\nre\u00e7ue; Mr. Turgot, Mr. L'Abb\u00e9 Morellet, Mr. Roux, Mr. Saurin, Mr.\nMarmontel, Mr. Duclos. Tous unanimement, ainsi que M{lle.} de\nL'Espinasse et moi sommes d'avis, que vous devez donner cette histoire\nau public, avec toutes ses circumstances. Voici ce que nous vous\nconseillons--je dis nous, car je parle ici au nom de tous. Vous\ncommencerez d'abord par dire que vous savez que Rousseau travaille \u00e0 ses\nm\u00e9moires, qu'il fera sans doute mention de sa querelle avec vous, qui a\nfait trop de bruit pour qu'il ne cherche pas \u00e0 la tourner \u00e0 son\navantage, que les m\u00e9moires pourront paro\u00eetre ou apr\u00e8s votre mort ou\napr\u00e9s la sienne: que dans le 1{er} cas, comme vous l'observez vous-m\u00eame,\npersonne ne pourra vous justifier; que dans le second, votre d\u00e9fense\nseroit sans force; que vous avez donc cru devoir donner vous m\u00eame toute\ncette histoire au public, afin que Mr. Rousseau r\u00e9ponde s'il le peut.\nEnsuite vous entrerez dans le d\u00e9tail, et dans le plus grand d\u00e9tail, mais\nsurtout, et c'est une chose absolument essentielle et que nous vous\nrecommendons tous--vous vous bornerez aux faits, exprim\u00e9s simplement et\nnettement, sans aigreur, sans la moindre injure, sans m\u00eame de r\u00e9flexions\nsur le caract\u00e8re de Rousseau et sur ses \u00e9crits; vous rapporterez vos\nlettres et les siennes; celle qu'il vous a \u00e9crite le 23 juin suffiroit\nseule pour le faire condamner, vous ne direz point, du moins trop\nsouvent, que vous \u00eates son bienfaiteur--tout le monde le sait assez.\nEnfin mon cher ami, nous vous recommendons, et nous vous conjurons de\nmettre dans cette brochure la plus grande mod\u00e9ration mais en m\u00eame temps\nla plus grande clart\u00e9.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[355:1] Walpole's \"Narrative.\"\n\n[357:1] \"Vous devez \u00eatre bien \u00e9tonn\u00e9, Monsieur, de n'avoir encore re\u00e7u\naucune lettre sur la publication de votre m\u00e9moire, et il y a en cela\nbeaucoup de ma faute. J'avois dit \u00e0 M. D'Alembert que j'aurois l'honneur\nde vous \u00e9crire. Il a compt\u00e9 sur moi. Le Baron D'Holbach a compt\u00e9 sur\nnous deux, et moi j'ai compt\u00e9 aussi sur eux; voil\u00e0 ce qui fait qu'il n'y\na rien que d'avoir plusieurs domestiques pour \u00eatre mal servi.\"\n\nStating, that he has sent a copy of the collection by post, he proceeds:\n\n\"Vous avez d\u00e9sir\u00e9 que je fusse votre traducteur, et je n'avois pas\nbesoin de tous les sentimens qui m'attachent \u00e0 vous, pour me charger de\nce travail, avec plaisir. Votre cause me paroisoit celle des honn\u00eates\ngens et surtout celle des amis de la philosophie. Il y a long-tems que\nje regardois Rousseau comme un profond et dangereux charlatan, qui avoit\npass\u00e9 sa vie \u00e0 recevoir des bienfaits de tout le monde, et \u00e0 faire tout\nle mal qu'il avoit pu \u00e0 ceux qui lui avaient fait le plus de bien. . .\nVous trouverez sans doute, Monsieur, qu'on a pris bien des libert\u00e9s avec\nvotre texte: il y a beaucoup de passages alt\u00e9r\u00e9s, et suprim\u00e9s: mais il\nn'y a aucun changement qui n'ait \u00e9t\u00e9 fait par M. D'Alembert ou de son\nconsentement, et toujours pour des raisons que vous aprouverez\nvraisemblement.\"\n\n[358:1] New Monthly Magazine, (original series,) No. 72.\n\n[358:2] The letter is dated Ferney, 24th Oct. 1766. Oeuvres de Voltaire,\ned. 1789, lxiv. 495. Probably Hume never received this letter. It is not\nin the MSS. R.S.E., and Voltaire was known to be in the habit of writing\nto people through the press. Hume, however, states, in a note to the\nnarrative of his controversy, that he had had a letter from Voltaire\nabout three years before. There is no trace of it among his papers.\n\n[360:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[360:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[360:3] Among those who were eager to peruse these documents, Hume says,\nwriting to Madame de Barbantane, \"The King and Queen of England\nexpressed a strong desire to see these papers, and I was obliged to put\nthem into their hands. They read them with avidity, and entertain the\nsame sentiments that must strike every one. The king's opinion confirms\nme in the resolution not to give them to the public, unless I be forced\nto it by some attack on the side of my adversary, which it will\ntherefore be wisdom in him to avoid.\" _Private Correspondence_, p. 210.\n\n[361:1] He says, in a subsequent letter,--\"What are become of all the\ncontroversies since the days of Scaliger and Scioppius, of Billingsgate\nmemory? Why, they sleep in oblivion, till some Bayle drags them out of\ntheir dust, and takes mighty pains to ascertain the date of each\nauthor's death, which is of no more consequence to the world than the\nday of his birth. Many a country squire quarrels with his neighbour\nabout game and manors, yet they never print their wrangles, though as\nmuch abuse passes between them, as if they could quote all the\nPhilippics of the learned.\" We have an instance of what he considered a\nreally important dispute, when he was baffled in his attempt to get his\nnephew, Lord Orford, married to Miss Nicol, \"the vast fortune.\" \"Thus,\"\nhe says, \"had I placed him in a greater situation than even his\ngrandfather hoped to bequeath to him,--had retrieved all the oversights\nof my family,--had saved Houghton, and all our glory.\" \"I have been\nforced,\" he says, writing to Horace Mann, \"_to write a narrative_ of the\nwhole transaction; and was with difficulty kept from publishing\nit.\"--_Letters_, ii. 401.\n\n[362:1] He did not lose the opportunity afforded by the publication of\nhis pamphlet, for again expressing his contempt of men whose sole claim\nto notice rested on the greatness of their genius: \"For Monsieur\nD'Alembert,\" he says, \"I said that I was mighty indifferent about seeing\nhim. That it was not my custom to seek authors, who are a conceited\ntroublesome set of people.\" And hearing that Fr\u00e9ron, the same who was so\nsharp a thorn in Voltaire's side, had made some remarks on him, which\ndispleased the Duchesse de Choiseul, he says, \"I immediately wrote to\nParis, to beg the duchess would suffer Fr\u00e9ron and D'Alembert, or any of\nthe tribe, to write what they pleased, to get what money they could by\nabusing me.\"\n\n[365:1] This is repeated in a letter to Robertson, of 19th March, and is\nfollowed by the statement, \"The King, when applied to, said, that since\nthe pension had once been promised, it should be granted,\nnotwithstanding all that had passed in the interval. And thus the affair\nis happily finished, unless some new extravagance come across the\nphilosopher, and urge him to reject what he has anew applied\nfor.\"--_Stewart's Life of Robertson._\n\n[365:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[366:1] The letter is in the usual editions of Rousseau's works, dated\n30th April.\n\n[366:2] The pamphlets produced in England on this subject, were not\nnearly so numerous as those published in France. Fuseli, whose mind was\nwell suited for such a paradoxical championship, wrote \"A defence of M.\nRousseau, against the Aspersions of Mr. Hume, Monsieur Voltaire, and\ntheir associates.\" The other pamphlet alluded to in the letter, was,\nperhaps, \"A letter to the Honourable Horace Walpole, concerning the\ndispute between Mr. Hume and M. Rousseau,\" by the Rev. Ralph Heathcote,\nD.D. Hume says, in a letter to Madame de Boufflers, \"Agreeably to the\nlicence of this country, there has been a great deal of raillery on the\nincident, thrown out in the public papers, but all against that unhappy\nman. There is even a print engraved of it: M. Rousseau is represented as\na Yahoo, newly caught in the woods; I am represented as a farmer, who\ncaresses him and offers him some oats to eat, which he refuses in a\nrage; Voltaire and D'Alembert are whipping him up behind; and Horace\nWalpole making him horns of _papier m\u00e2ch\u00e9_. The idea is not altogether\nabsurd.\"--_Private Correspondence_, p. 234.\n\n[367:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[370:1] Walpole, whose capacity for acquiring information on such\nmatters was unrivalled, seems to have at least made a near approach to\nthe discovery of this point. He says in his narration, \"The chief cause\nof his disgust has been a long quarrel between his housekeeper and Mr.\nDavenport's cook-maid, who, as Rousseau affirmed, had always dressed\ntheir dinner very ill, and at last had sprinkled ashes on their\nvictuals.\"\n\n[371:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[372:1] These incidents are also narrated in a letter to Madame de\nBoufflers.--_Priv. Cor._ p. 241. And some of them in a French letter to\na person unknown, ib. p. 220.\n\n[373:1] See the letter following that of 30th April to Mr. Davenport, in\nthe ordinary editions of Rousseau's works. The only material divergence\nin the passage cited above is in the last clause, and the words\n\"quelques indiscrettes plaintes qui lui sont quelquefois echapp\u00e9es dans\nle fort de ses peines,\" to which the corresponding clause in Rousseau's\nWorks, is \"les plaintes indiscrettes, qui dans le fort de ses peines,\nlui sont quelquefois \u00e9chapp\u00e9es.\" These discrepancies were probably\nbetween Rousseau's preserved copy, and the letter sent. That this letter\nwas printed from a copy preserved by Rousseau, is shown by the editors\nof his Works not knowing to whom it was addressed. Hume repeats his own\nversion of the passage in a French letter already referred to. See\n_Private Correspondence_, p. 222.\n\n[374:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[378:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 649. Corrected from original MS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[379:1] He assumed the name of Renou.\n\n[380:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[381:1] On 1st June, 1767, Turgot writes, in answer to a letter from\nHume: \"Je me h\u00e2te d'y r\u00e9pondre par ce courier, quoique je n'aie encore\nfait aucune d\u00e9marche pour le malheureux homme auquel, il est si digne de\nvous de prendre encore int\u00e9r\u00eat. Le degr\u00e9 de folie qu'il montre\naujourdhui est en v\u00e9rit\u00e9 pr\u00e9f\u00e9rable \u00e0 une folie moins exalt\u00e9e, qui le\nlaissoit charg\u00e9 de tout l'odieux d'un exc\u00e8s d'ingratitude envers vous et\nM. Davenport. Une pareille ingratitude r\u00e9fl\u00e9chie et m\u00e9dit\u00e9e ne peut me\nparo\u00eetre dans la nature. . . . Je vous remercie de m'avoir choisi parmi\nvos amis de ce pays-ci pour m'associer \u00e0 la bonne action que vous voulez\nfaire en lui rendant service. J'y mettrai certainement tout le z\u00e8le dont\nje suis capable et \u00e0 cause de son infortune, et \u00e0 cause de l'int\u00e9r\u00eat que\nvous y prenez.\" He continues to say, that to get him a safe passage may\nbe easy: to find him a permanent asylum in France, would be a more\ndifficult matter. \"La chose est possible hors du ressort du Parlement de\nParis, mais il faut que le Roi y consente. Il n'y a que l'int\u00e9r\u00eat m\u00eame\nque vous prenez, et la singularit\u00e9 de cette circonstance qui puisse\npeut-\u00eatre adoucir le Roi sur le compte de Rousseau en faisant demander\nla chose en votre nom par M. de Choiseul.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n1766-1770. \u00c6t. 55-59.\n\n     Hume Under Secretary of State--Church Politics--Official\n     abilities--Conduct as to Ferguson's book--Quarrel with\n     Oswald--Baron Mure's sons--Project of continuing the History--\n     Ministerial convulsions--Hume's conduct to his Family--His\n     Brother--His Nephews--Baron Hume--Blacklock--Smollett--Church\n     Patronage--Gibbon--Robertson--Elliot--Gilbert Stuart--The\n     Douglas Cause--Andrew Stewart--Morellet--Return to Scotland.\n\n\nThe quarrel with Rousseau seems to have so fully occupied the attention\nof Hume, during its continuance, that he scarcely alluded to any other\nsubject in his correspondence; and thus, though the preceding chapter is\ndevoted entirely to that event, a very slight retrospect from the point\nof time reached at its conclusion, will suffice for whatever else,\nworthy of notice in his life or correspondence, has been preserved.\n\nIn the summer of 1766, he made a short visit to Scotland. \"I returned,\"\nhe says, in his \"own life,\" \"to that place, not richer, but with much\nmore money, and a much larger income, by means of Lord Hertford's\nfriendship, than I left it; and I was desirous of trying what\nsuperfluity could produce, as I had formerly made an experiment of a\ncompetency. But, in 1767, I received, from Mr. Conway, an invitation to\nbe under-secretary; and this invitation, both the character of the\nperson, and my connexions with Lord Hertford, prevented me from\ndeclining.\"\n\nHe was thus solicited to undertake the very responsible duties of this\noffice, by one who had good opportunities of knowing his capacity for\npublic business; and the simple fact of the appointment is a testimony\nto the ability with which he had performed the analogous functions of\nhis office in France. He was indeed at all times a man of punctual\nhabits, and his unwearied industry had not yet begun to slacken. He had\na mind of that clear systematic order which was well fitted for the\ncomposition of official documents; and his triumphs in philosophical and\nhistorical literature never inflated him with the ambition of\nconsidering any business which he consented to undertake too\ninsignificant to deserve his full attention. Some official documents,\nconnected with the successive offices which he held, have been\npreserved, by collectors, as autographs of so celebrated a man: and they\ngenerally arrest the attention of every one who examines them, by the\nclearness and precision of the language, and not a little by the\nneatness of the handwriting.\n\nAfter the resignation of the Marquis of Tweeddale, in 1746, there was no\nlonger a principal secretary of state for Scotland; and it became usual\nto consult the Lord Advocate, or any other ministerial officer, locally\nconnected with the north, as to the policy to be pursued in Scottish\naffairs. None of the principal members of the Grafton ministry were\nScotsmen; and there can be little doubt that Hume must then have\nexercised a large influence in all affairs connected with his native\ncountry.[383:1] He held his office until the 20th of July 1768, when\nGeneral Conway was superseded by Lord Weymouth.\n\nThe following letter contains a brief sketch of the general current of\nhis official life.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_1st April, 1767._\n\n\"My way of life here is very uniform, and by no means disagreeable. I\npass all the forenoon in the secretary's house, from ten till three,\nwhere there arrive, from time to time, messengers, that bring me all\nthe secrets of the kingdom, and, indeed, of Europe, Asia, Africa, and\nAmerica. I am seldom hurried; but have leisure, at intervals, to take up\na book, or write a private letter, or converse with any friend that may\ncall for me; and from dinner to bed-time is all my own. If you add to\nthis, that the person with whom I have the chief, if not only\ntransactions, is the most reasonable, equal tempered, and gentleman-like\nman imaginable, and Lady Aylesbury the same, you will certainly think I\nhave no reason to complain; and I am far from complaining. I only shall\nnot regret when my duty is over; because, to me, the situation can lead\nto nothing, at least in all probability; and reading, and sauntering,\nand lounging, and dosing, which I call thinking, is my supreme\nhappiness. I mean my full contentment.\n\n\"I thank you for the acquaintance you offer me of Mr. Percy; but it\nwould be impracticable for me to cultivate his friendship, as men of\nletters have here no place of rendezvous; and are, indeed, sunk and\nforgot in the general torrent of the world. If you can therefore\ndecline, without hardship, any letter of recommendation, it would save\ntrouble both to him and me.\"[385:1]\n\n\nIn the beginning of the year 1767, Ferguson published his \"Essay on the\nHistory of Civil Society,\" a work which speedily acquired a wide\nreputation through Europe. The allusions which Hume has been found\nmaking to some work of a similar character, so early as 1759,[385:2]\nprobably refer to a particular portion of this book. Immediately before\nits publication, he recommended Ferguson's friends to prevail on him to\nsuppress the work, as likely to be injurious to its author's literary\nreputation: one of the few instances, if it be not the only one, in\nwhich he discouraged a fellow-countryman, desirous of casting his lot\ninto the competition for literary distinction. He ultimately found that\nhis advice was erroneous, as the book soon obtained a high character.\nBut, had his own opinion of its merits coincided with the suffrages of\nthe public, it would not have been so honourable to his memory, as the\nsatisfaction he expressed on the discovery that the verdict of the\nreading world was against him. Writing to Blair on 24th February, 1767,\nhe says:--\n\n\"I happened yesterday to visit a person three hours after a copy of\nFerguson's performance was opened, for the first time, in London. It was\nby Lord Mansfield. I accept this omen of its future success. He was\nextremely pleased with it; said it was very agreeable, and perfectly\nwell wrote; assured me that he would not stop a moment till he had\nfinished it; and recommended it strongly to the perusal of the\nArchbishop of York, who was present. I have wrote the same article of\nintelligence to Ferguson himself; but as he is the likeliest person in\nthe world to suppress it, I thought it safest to put it into your hands,\nin order to circulate it.\"[386:1]\n\nAgain:--\n\n\"I hear good things said of Ferguson's book every day. Lord Holderness\nshowed me a letter from the Archbishop of York, where his Grace says,\nthat in many things it surpasses Montesquieu. My friend, Mr. Dodwell,\nsays that it is an admirable book, elegantly wrote, and with great\npurity of language. Pray, tell to Ferguson and to others all these\nthings.\"[386:2]\n\nAgain, writing to the same correspondent, on 1st April, he says:--\n\n\"The success of the book, dear Doctor, which you mention, gives me great\nsatisfaction, on account of my sincere friendship for the author; and so\nmuch the rather, as the success was to me unexpected. I have since begun\nto hope, and even to believe, that I was mistaken; and in this\npersuasion have several times taken it up and read chapters of it. But,\nto my great mortification and sorrow, I have not been able to change my\nsentiments. We shall see, by the duration of its fame, whether or not I\nam mistaken. Helv\u00e9tius and Saurin both told me at Paris, that they had\nbeen consulted by Montesquieu about his 'Esprit des Loix.' They used the\nfreedom to tell him, as their fixed opinion, that he ought to suppress\nthe book; which they foresaw would very much injure his reputation. They\nsaid to me that, no doubt, I thought they had reason to be ashamed of\ntheir judgment. But still, added they, you may observe that the public\nare very much returned from their first admiration of that book; and we\nare persuaded that they will daily return still more.\n\n\"I hope that I shall be found a false prophet as much as these\ngentlemen; for though the 'Esprit des Loix,' be considerably sunk in\nvogue, and will probably still sink farther, it maintains a high\nreputation, and probably will never be totally neglected. It has\nconsiderable merit, notwithstanding the glare of its pointed wit, and\nnotwithstanding its false refinements, and its rash and crude positions.\nHelv\u00e9tius and Saurin assured me, that this freedom of theirs never lost\nthem any thing of Montesquieu's friendship. I believe the like would be\nmy case; but it is better not to put it to a trial. On that account, as\nwell as others, I recommend to you secrecy, towards every person except\nRobertson.\"[388:1]\n\nA letter from Adam Smith, desiring that his friend, Count Sarsfield,\nmight be introduced to Hume's circle of acquaintance, called forth the\nfollowing narrative of a very amusing incident:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_London, 13th June, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--The Count de Sarsfield is a good acquaintance of mine,\nfrom the time I saw him at Paris; and as he is really a man of merit, I\nhave great pleasure whenever I meet him here. My occupations keep me\nfrom cultivating his friendship as much as I should incline. I did not\nintroduce him to Elliot, because I knew that this gentleman's reserve\nand indolence would make him neglect the acquaintance; and I did not\nintroduce him to Oswald, because I fear that he and I are broke for\never; at least he does not seem inclined to take any steps towards an\naccommodation with me.\n\n\"I am to tell you the strangest story you ever heard of. I was dining\nwith him, above two months ago, where, among other company, was the\nBishop of Raphoe.[388:2] After dinner we were disposed to be merry. I\nsaid to the company, that I had been very ill used by Lord Hertford; for\nthat I always expected to be made a bishop by him during his\nlieutenancy! but he had given away two sees from me, to my great\nvexation and disappointment. The right reverend, without any farther\nprovocation, burst out into the most furious, and indecent, and\northodox rage that ever was seen: told me that I was most impertinent;\nthat if he did not wear a gown, I durst not, no, I durst not, have used\nhim so; that none but a coward would treat a clergyman in that manner;\nthat henceforth he must either abstain from his brother's house, or I\nmust; and that this was not the first time he had heard the stupid joke\nfrom my mouth. With the utmost tranquillity and temper I asked his\npardon; assured him, upon my honour, that I did not mean him the least\noffence: if I had imagined he could possibly have been displeased, I\nnever should have mentioned the subject; but the joke was not in the\nleast against him, but entirely against myself, as if I were capable of\nsuch an expectation as that of being a bishop! my regard for himself,\nand still more for his brother, with whom I had long been more\nparticularly connected, would certainly restrain me from either joke or\nearnest, which could be offensive to him; and that, if I had ever\ntouched on the same topic before, I had entirely forgot it, and it must\nhave been above a twelvemonth ago. He was nowise appeased; raved on in\nthe same style for a long time. At last I got the discourse diverted,\nand took my leave, seemingly with great indifference and even good\nhumour. I was nowise surprised nor concerned about his lordship; because\nI had, on other occasions, observed the same orthodox zeal swell within\nhim, and it was often difficult for him to converse with temper when I\nwas in the company.\n\n\"But what really surprised and vexed me was, that his brother kept\nsilence all the time. I met him in the passage when I went away, and he\nmade me no apology. He has never since called on me; and though he sees\nthat I never come near his house, though formerly I used to be three or\nfour times a-week with him, he never takes the least notice of it. I own\nthis gives me vexation, because I have a sincere value and affection for\nhim. It is only some satisfaction to me to find, that I am so palpably\nin the right as not to leave the least room for doubt or ambiguity. Dr.\nPitcairne, who was in the company, says that he never saw such a scene\nin his lifetime. If I were sure, dear Smith, that you and I should not\nsome day quarrel in some such manner, I should tell you that I am, yours\nvery affectionately and sincerely.\"[390:1]\n\n\nThe world levies certain penalties on the enjoyment of a character for\ngood nature and kindness, and Hume seems to have paid them to their most\nample extent, in the shape of executing commissions, and performing\ngeneral petty services for his friends. We have witnessed the zeal with\nwhich he attended to the education of Mr. Elliot's two sons. A teacher\nof languages, possessing the distinguished name of Graffigny, and\nprofessing to be in the confidence of celebrated literary people in\nParis, appears to have excited the suspicion of Baron Mure, whose sons\nhe was employed to instruct. Hume undertook to make some inquiries\nregarding him; and his brief reports, from time to time, have some\ninterest from their containing a few of his opinions on education.\n\n\nHUME _to_ BARON MURE.\n\n\"_London, 1st July, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR BARON,--I believe I told you, that D'Alembert disclaimed all sort\nof acquaintance with him. I have this moment received a letter from\nHelv\u00e9tius, doing the same. It was in answer to one I wrote him at Lord\nHertford's desire. I know not from what quarter we had heard that he had\ngiven to Lord Harcourt, or Lord Newnam, a good character of Graffigny:\nbut it must have been a mistake; for to me he says, that he knows no\nsuch man; that his wife, who was niece to the famous Ma{me} de\nGraffigny, and educated with her, never saw or heard of such a man: nor\ncan they imagine who he may be. After this second imposture, it is\ncertain that Lord Hertford will not put his sons to him; nor do I think\nit fit yours should longer remain. He is an empty, conceited fellow,\nfull of chimeras and pretensions; and I think you are at no great loss\nfor parting with him. The question [is,] what to do next?\"\n\n\n(_Undated._)\n\n\"DEAR BARON,--He is indeed a conceited man, full of whimseys and\naffectations, reasoning always in the clouds about the most obvious\nthings, and hunting after novelties and singularities of which his\ngenius is incapable. What, for instance, can be more whimsical than his\nmethod of teaching Latin? He gives his boys a long list of words, which\nthey are to get by heart, like the muster-roll of a regiment, and a\ngreat heap of grammar rules, which are to them unintelligible. After he\nhas laid this foundation of a language, as he imagines, he begins them\nwith the most difficult of all the Latin poets; and for this plan of\neducation, he will give you a galimatias of reasons, clothed in the\nsmoothest language, and delivered with the softest accent.\"\n\n\n(_Undated._)\n\n\"DEAR BARON,--In my conversation with your young folks yesterday, I\nendeavoured to inform myself concerning their progress in Latin. I find\nthat they are not taught any Latin grammar; they are only instructed in\nthe sense of single detached words, which they learn, both in Greek and\nLatin, at once. Accordingly they told me water, aqua, and \u03c5\u03b4\u03c9\u03c1; but\nthough I tried them in about half a dozen more words, I could not find\ntheir learning extended so far. All this appears to me very whimsical;\nand I doubt a dead language can never be learned in this manner without\ngrammar. In a living language, the continual application of the words\nand phrases teaches at the same time the sense of the words, and their\nreference to each other; but a list of words got by heart, without any\nconnected sense, easily escapes the memory, and is but a small part of\nthe language.\"[392:1]\n\n\nThere are several indications that Hume still retained the half-formed\nintention of continuing his History through a portion of the period\nsucceeding the Revolution. In a brief undated letter, written to Smith\nin Paris, he says:--\n\n\"Some push me to continue my History. Millar offers me any price. All\nthe Marlborough papers are offered me: and I believe nobody would\nventure to refuse me. But _cui bono_? Why should I forego idleness, and\nsauntering, and society, and expose myself again to the clamours of a\nstupid factious public? I am not yet tired of doing nothing; and am\nbecome too wise either to mind censure or applause. By and bye I shall\nbe too old to undergo so much labour. Adieu.\"[392:2]\n\nSmith's opinion is thus reported by Andrew Millar, on 22d November,\n1766.\n\n\"He is of opinion, with many more of your very good sensible friends,\nthat the History of this country, from the Revolution, is not to be met\nwith in books yet printed; but from MSS. in this country, to which he is\nsure you will have ready access, from all accounts he hears from the\ngreat here; and therefore you should lay the ground-work here, after\nyour perusal of the MSS. you may have access to, and doing it below will\nbe laying the wrong foundation. I think it my duty to inform you the\nopinion of your most judicious friends, and I think he and Sir John\nPringle may be reckoned amongst that number.\"[393:1]\n\nMillar, indeed, seems to have scarcely ever relaxed from urging this\nproject; and perhaps it was his perseverance, and not any\nself-originating desire to pursue the task, that kept the design alive\nin Hume's mind. He had written to his worthy publisher on 8th October,\n1766:--\n\n\"I shall probably do as you advise, and sketch out the outlines of the\ntwo or three subsequent reigns, which I may finish at London, after I\nfind that there remains no farther obstacles to this work, and that it\nis favoured, I do not say by every body, (for that is impossible,) but\nby the generality of the world.\"\n\nAt a later date he thus expressed his views:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_London, 17th July, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--We are still in as unsettled a condition as when you left\nus. There will certainly be a considerable alteration in the ministry;\nand I do not at present reckon my principal's situation more precarious\nthan that of any other minister. He speaks, however, like a man who is\nto be out of office in a few days. I have also taken the precaution to\ndesire him to request of the king, in my name, the liberty, after my\ndismission, of inspecting all the public records, and all the papers in\nthe Paper-office. His majesty was pleased to say, that he very willingly\ncomplied with my request, and was glad to hear of my intentions. But my\nchief view is to run over such papers as belong to the period which I\nhave already wrote, in order to render that part of my History as little\nimperfect as possible. It would be folly to think of writing any more;\nand even as to correcting, were it not an amusement, to what purpose\nwould it serve, since I shall certainly never live to see a new\nedition?\"[394:1]\n\n\nOn the same subject, and in the same tone, he writes to his brother, on\n6th October:--\n\n\"As to myself, I pass my time, as I told you, in an agreeable enough\nkind of business, and not too much of it. My income, also, is at present\nvery considerable--above \u00a31100 a-year, of which I shall not spend much\nabove the half. Notwithstanding, I sometimes wish to be out of\nemployment, in order to prosecute my History, to which every body urges\nme. When Mr. Conway was on the point of resigning, I desired him to\npropose to the king that I might afterwards have the liberty of\ninspecting all the public offices for such papers as might serve to my\npurpose. His majesty said, that he was glad that I had that object in my\neye; and I should certainly have all the assistance in his power. He was\nalso pleased, some time after, to send to me the Baron Behr, minister\nfor Hanover, to tell me that he had ordered over some papers from\nHanover, to be put into my hands, because he believed they would be of\nuse to me. I believe I have told you that the use of the Marlborough\npapers had been promised me by Lord and Lady Spencer; but Marchmont, who\nhad some pretence of authority over them, as trustee, delayed giving\nthem up, suspecting, I suppose, the use they intended to make of\nthem.\"[395:1]\n\nThough it was as part of Lord Rockingham's administration that Conway\nbecame secretary of state, and his political connexions attached him to\nthat leader, he had been prevailed on to retain office on the formation\nof the Grafton and Chatham cabinet, in August 1766. In the summer of\n1767, that ministry seemed likely to be formidably assailed by the\nunited efforts of the Rockingham and Bedford parties, whose meetings and\nresolutions at Newcastle House are matters well known in history.\nGeneral Conway's resignation would have terminated Hume's tenure of\noffice; and we find, in his correspondence, a few indications of\ninterest in the political movements of the time; yet so calm and\nmodified, that even the possession of office seems scarcely to have\naffected the stoic philosophy with which he contemplated ministerial\nrevolutions.\n\nHe says to his friend Blair, on the 18th of June:--\n\n\"We are all again in confusion. Negotiations for a new ministry; the\nfatal month of July approaching; a new settlement to be made, which will\nbe no settlement. I fancy I return, in a few weeks, to my former\nsituation.\"[395:2]\n\nAnd to Smith, on 14th July:--\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--I send you the enclosed, with a large packet for Count\nSarsfield. This is the last ministerial act which I shall probably\nperform; and with this exertion I finish my functions. I shall not\nleave this country presently. Perhaps I may go over to France. Our\nresignation is a very extraordinary incident, and will probably occasion\na total change of ministry. Are you busy?\"[396:1]\n\nHis official life, however, was not so near a conclusion as he thought\nit was. The following letter is more full and explicit, in regard to\nthese matters:--\n\n_London, 28th July, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR BROTHER,--Were my present situation any object of anxiety, I\nshould have been very unhappy of late: so uncertain has my continuance\nappeared every moment, and so near did my ministerial functions seem to\ndraw towards their conclusion. But as the matter was very nearly\nindifferent to me, I neither felt anxiety for my past danger, nor do I\nexperience any joy from my present establishment; for we are now\nestablished, for some time at least, and all apprehensions of a change\nare removed to a distance. The history of our late transactions is, in\nshort, as follows: About this time twelvemonth, when the last revolution\nof ministry took place, Mr. Conway staid in, though Lord Rockingham, and\nmost of his friends, were turned out: But it was with reluctance, and\nonly on the earnest entreaties of the king and Lord Chatham, and on\ntheir giving him a promise that several of his friends and party should\nstill continue to hold their places. This engagement was broke last\nwinter. Some of these gentlemen were turned out; and Mr. Conway, after\nprotesting against this usage, declared, that though he would keep his\noffice during the session, not to disturb the king's business, he would\nresign as soon as the parliament should rise. He accordingly desired the\nking, about six weeks ago, to provide him a successor, and was\nentreated only to keep the seals till a proper person should be thought\nof. When the matter came to be discussed, it was found very difficult.\nThe Duke of Grafton declared, that being deprived of Lord Chatham's\nsupport, he could not continue to serve without Mr. Conway: and a total\ndissolution of the ministry seemed to be the effect of the incident.\nNegotiations were accordingly set on foot with the leaders of the\nopposition, and a great meeting of them was held last week, at Bedford\nHouse. It was found that they could not, by any means, agree in their\ndemands; and they separated in mutual discontent. Every body thinks that\nMr. Conway has now satisfied, to the full, the point of honour, in which\nhe is very scrupulous, and that he will cordially resume his functions,\nespecially as he stands so well with the king and his fellow ministers,\nand has brought it within the choice of his old friends to accept of the\nministry, if they had thought proper. I was beginning to wish for our\ndissolution; but upon this turn of affairs, I resume my occupations with\ncheerfulness.\"[397:1]\n\nThe remainder of this letter is devoted to a matter in which we have\nalready frequently found him taking interest--the education of his\nnephews. From his earliest to his latest days, his connexion with his\nelder brother was cordial and affectionate. On the 6th of October we\nfind him writing, in a tone which indicates a sympathy with some\ndomestic calamity which his brother must have suffered:--\n\n\"The time of your going to Edinburgh approaches, which makes a great\nchange in your way of life, and will naturally make yourself, as well as\nall your friends, anxious about the issue of it. However, I cannot but\nthink that you will there live more cheerfully, with all your children\nabout you, than in the country, during the winter, when your boys were\nabsent. At first only, as your spirits are not very strong at present,\nyou may feel uneasy at the alteration, as you are at present somewhat\napprehensive about it.\"[398:1]\n\nThere was apparently but one point in which the two brothers differed;\nand it was a subject on which Hume seems to have been at war with all\nhis clan. The Laird of Ninewells, notwithstanding all the lustre that\nhad now gathered round the name of _Hume_, would not adopt it in place\nof that of _Home_, which his father had borne. He was a simple,\nsingle-hearted man, moderate in all his views and wishes, and neither\nambitious of distinction nor of wealth. He passed his life as a retired\ncountry gentleman; and while Europe was full of his brother's name, he\nwas so averse to notoriety, that he is known to have objected to the\ndomestic events of births, marriages, and deaths, in his family,\nobtaining the usual publicity through the newspapers.[398:2] His eldest\nson, Joseph, frequently mentioned in the following correspondence,\nsucceeded him in his estate and retired habits, but not entirely in his\ndisposition; for he indulged in many of the eccentricities and\npeculiarities so often exhibited by the Scottish gentry,--a\ncharacteristic they seem to derive from the circumstance, that, in the\nBritish empire, there is no person less liable to encounter an equal,\nand to be thwarted in his small exercise of absolute power, than a\nScottish laird. It is evident from his uncle's letters, that Joseph\nobtained an excellent education. He was for some time placed under the\ncharge of poor Blacklock,--an arrangement by which Hume sought to\nperform a double act of beneficence.[399:1] Joseph died unmarried, on\n14th February, 1832, and was succeeded by his brother David, whose\ncareer was more public and distinguished. He was born on 27th February,\n1757,[401:1] and died on 27th July, 1838. He was successively sheriff of\nthe counties of Berwick and Linlithgow. He was professor of Scots law in\nthe university of Edinburgh, and a principal clerk of Session. He\nsubsequently resigned these offices, on his being appointed a Baron of\nthe Scottish Exchequer. His works are of great authority in the\npractical departments of the law. While he taught in the university, his\nstudents zealously collected notes of his lectures; and, as he refused\nto permit any version of them to be published, the well preserved\ncollections of these notes have been considered valuable treasuries of\nlegal wisdom. In 1790, he published \"Commentaries on the law of\nScotland, respecting trials for crimes;\" and, in 1797, \"Commentaries on\nthe law of Scotland respecting the description and punishment of\ncrimes,\" forming, in four quarto volumes, a comprehensive treatise on\nall the departments of the criminal law of Scotland, which has now\npassed through three editions. It has been justly remarked, that lawyers\nof the present generation, can, with difficulty, appreciate the merit\nof this work, because, from its having converted the whole subject it\nembraces into a system, the chaotic mass, from which the present\ncomparatively orderly criminal code of Scotland was constructed, has\ndisappeared.[402:1]\n\nFew literary reputations have been more unlike each other than those of\nthe two David Humes, uncle and nephew. The former hated legal details\nand the jargon of technical phraseology; to the latter they were the\nbreath of his literary life. The one, as a philosopher, saw, throughout\na wide circumference of vision, the relations to each other of the most\ndistant objects of human knowledge; the latter saw nothing beyond the\nbounds of the professional details before him; but these he noted with\nan unrivalled accuracy. The strength, clearness, and beauty of the\nphilosopher's language have been a lasting object of admiration; the\nlawyer's diction was clumsy, rude, and ponderous, without being either\nstrong or clear. On one point only did they agree--their political\nopinions; and yet, on this subject, they seem not always to have been in\nunison. From a very curious letter, which will be found a few pages\nfarther on, it appears that Hume thought it necessary seriously to warn\nhis nephew against republican principles. Few, who are only acquainted\nwith the opinions of Baron Hume's later life, will be inclined to\nbelieve that this danger could ever have been serious. He was a\nsupporter of all those parts of the criminal law of Scotland,--in his\nday not a few,--which put the subject at the mercy of the crown and of\nthe judges; and a warm admirer of his sagacity and learning, as a\nlawyer, cannot quit this subject without regretting that these qualities\nshould have been brought to aid the promulgation of arbitrary\nprinciples.\n\nThe education of his nephews, occupies, as has been already stated, the\nremainder of the letter by Hume to his brother above cited.\n\n\"My present situation revives those reflections which have frequently\noccurred to me concerning the education of your sons, particularly of\nJosey, whose age now advances, and seems to approach towards a crisis.\nThe question is, whether he had better continue his education in\nScotland or in England. There are several advantages of a Scots\neducation; but the question is, whether that of the language does not\ncounterbalance them, and determine the preference to the English. He is\nnow of an age to learn it perfectly; but if a few years elapse, he may\nacquire such an accent, as he will never be able to cure of. It is not\nyet determined what profession he shall be of: but it must always be of\ngreat advantage to speak properly: especially if it should prove, as we\nhave reason to hope, that his good parts will open him the road of\nambition. The only inconvenience is, that few Scotsmen, that have had an\nEnglish education, have ever settled cordially in their own country; and\nthey have been commonly lost ever after to their friends. However, as\nthis consequence is not necessary, the superior recommendations of an\nEnglish education ought not to be neglected. I have been making\ninquiries for some time, and on the whole I find Eton the best place for\nthe education of youth. He would there be able to form connexions with\nmany young people of distinction; though the whole expense would\nscarcely exceed \u00a370 a-year, which I fancy is little more than he costs\nyou at present. I suggest, therefore, this idea to you that you may\nweigh it at leisure, and determine upon it. I know you do not like to be\nhurried, and therefore the more time for reflection the better. His\nfriend and companion, young Adam, is coming up soon, but is going to\nWestminster school, which is a place that I find some objections to.\n\n\"I hope Mrs. Home is perfectly recovered. I am glad to hear such good\nnews of Jock. I had a letter from Davie last week, which gave me\npleasure. I am, dear brother, yours sincerely.\"[404:1]\n\nOn 13th October, in a letter of which a portion has been cited above,\nHume writes further on the same subject:\n\n\"DEAR BROTHER,--I never prognosticated well of Josey's genius for the\nmathematics, from his great slowness in learning arithmetic: and I am\nnot surprised to find that his progress in Euclid has not been so great\nas might have been expected from his quickness and his capacity in other\nparticulars. There is indeed something very unaccountable in his turn;\nso childish in many cases, and yet so manly, and quick, and sensible in\nothers. The presence of strangers, above all, seems to make him\nrecollect himself, and he is exceedingly taking among them. His address\nin particular, is remarkably good, and he seems to have a turn for the\nworld and for company. However, I do not think him by any means\ndeficient in his talents for literature. It appeared to me that he\nalways read his books with a very good taste, Latin as well as French\nand English; and I imagine that he will make at least a very\ngentlemanlike scholar. I wish therefore he had a further trial of the\nGreek; and if that will not do, I think with you that the Italian is an\neasy and genteel acquisition, which will furnish him with occupation for\nthis winter.\"[405:1]\n\nHume expressed no high respect for the historical abilities of Dr.\nSmollett, nor could he have well expected credit for sincerity if he had\ndone so. With the works in which the novelist let loose his native\ngenius, it is not likely that the philosopher could have had much\nsympathy. But two letters addressed by him to Smollett, show that the\nsuccessful and affluent man of letters was substantially kind and\nfriendly to his less fortunate countryman.\n\n\nHUME _to_ TOBIAS SMOLLETT.\n\n\"_London, July 18, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--I have had a conversation with Lord Shelburne concerning\nyour affairs: he told me that he had long been pre-engaged for the\nconsulship of Nice to the Spanish ambassador, and could not possibly get\nfree of that obligation. I then mentioned the consulship of Leghorn; but\nhe said he was already engaged for that office to a friend of Mr.\nDunning, the lawyer. On the whole, I cannot flatter you with any hopes\nof success from that quarter; even supposing his lordship were to remain\nin office, which is very uncertain, considering the present state of our\nministry. For of all our annual confusions, the present seems to be the\nmost violent, and to threaten the most entire revolution, and the most\nimportant events. As Lord Chatham's state of health appears totally\ndesperate, and as Lord Shelburne's connexion is supposed to be chiefly,\nif not solely, with him, many people foretell a short duration to the\ngreatness of the last named minister. Every thing is uncertain: there is\na mighty combination to overpower the king. The force of the crown is\ngreat; but is not employed with that steadiness which its friends would\nwish. I pretend not to foresee, much less to foretell, the consequences.\nI am, dear sir, your most obedient, and most humble servant,\" &c.[406:1]\n\n\nIt has been a matter of speculation, if not of dispute among\necclesiastical politicians, how far Hume had an influence in the\ndispensation of church patronage in Scotland. The following letters,\nhaving however a more immediate reference to state politics, may be held\nto afford some light on this question.\n\n\nHUME _to_ SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.[406:2]\n\n\"_London, 13th August, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SIR GILBERT,--I am told that the minister of Kirkton, in the\nPresbytery of Jedburgh, is either dying, or is to be removed, and that\nthe living is in the gift of the crown. I have spoke to General Conway\ndesiring that, in case no unexpected difficulties occur, he may give it\nto my nephew's tutor; and he has agreed to it. I have since heard, that\nthe living, though it stands in our list as a crown presentation, is\nalternately in the gift of Sir John Elliot of Stobs, and Cavers Douglas.\nI shall be much obliged to you, if, without mentioning the reason, you\ncould make inquiries, and give me information.\n\n\"You have heard, no doubt, that all our negotiations have vanished, and\nthat our present ministry is settled on a firmer basis than ever. Mr.\nConway's delicacy of honour was satisfied, by bringing his old friends\nthe Rockinghams to have an offer; and as it was impossible for them to\nconcert a ministry, he has agreed to act cordially with the Duke of\nGrafton: the king is very happy that no changes are to have place. I do\nnot reckon the change in Ireland for any thing, because Lord Bristol\ngoes out at his own earnest and repeated desire. I am told that Lord\nTownsend openly ascribes his own promotion entirely to the friendship of\nLord Bute. Charles Fitzroy lately, in a great meeting, proposed Lord\nBute's health in a bumper. It will be a surprise to you certainly, if\nthat noble lord should again come into fashion, and openly avow his\nshare of influence, and be openly courted by all the world. I am, dear\nSir Gilbert, yours sincerely.\"[407:1]\n\n\n\"_10th Sept. 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SIR GILBERT,--Lord North has refused the office of Chancellor\nof the Exchequer; though it was earnestly pressed upon him, and\nthough he professed an entire satisfaction with every person in the\nadministration. He dreads the labour of the office, especially as it\nobliges him to take so great a part in the business of the House of\nCommons. It will not probably be offered to any Scotsman, for fear of\npopular reflections concerning the influence of the Thane. The same\nobjection, as well as others, lie against Dyson, who has been thought\nof. I see the ministry in some perplexity; perhaps this incident may\ndraw on new resignations and negotiations, and cabals. I think one\ndefect of the present situation of our government is, that nobody\ndesires much to have any share in the administration, except\nadventurers, of whom the public is naturally distrustful. The pecuniary\nemoluments are of no consideration to men of rank and fortune. You have\noften more personal regard from being in the opposition. The protection\nof the law is at all times sufficient for your security; and by\nacquiring authority you are exposed to insults, instead of gaining the\npower to revenge them.[408:1] Why, then, should a man of birth, fortune,\nand parts, sacrifice his fame and peace to an ungrateful public? Such is\nthe defect that arises from the perfection of the most perfect\ngovernment.\"[408:2]\n\nThe next in the chronological order of Hume's letters, reverts to the\nprospect of his continuing his History.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.\n\n\"_19th October, 1767._\n\n\"DEAR SIR,--The picture which Donaldson has done for me is a drawing;\nand, in every body's opinion, as well as my own, is the likest that has\nbeen done for me, as well as the best likeness. Since you still insist\nthat an engraving should be made from it, we are [thus] more likely to\nhave a good engraving made than by any other means. I shall, however, be\nglad to sit to Ferguson.[409:1] I intend to give up all my leisure time\nto the correction of my History, and to contrive more leisure than I\nhave possessed since I came into public office. I had run over four\nvolumes; but I shall give them a second perusal, and employ the same, or\ngreater accuracy in correcting the other four. I shall read carefully\nall the records in the Paper Office, as far back as they go, and shall\nleave nothing untried that may bestow the greatest exactness upon it.\nFor this reason, as well as many others, I would not have you\nprecipitate this edition, which is probably the last that I may have\noccasion to make. I would wish to leave that work as little imperfect as\npossible to posterity. I am,\" &c.[409:2]\n\n\nGibbon tells us, in his amusing autobiography, that with the assistance\nof his friend Deyverdun, he had written in French a portion of a history\nof Switzerland, and that the opinions he heard expressed when a fragment\nof it was anonymously read before a society in London, prompted him to\nabandon the work, and burn the portion he had written. \"I delivered,\" he\nsays, \"my imperfect sketches to the flames.\" Yet, singularly enough, he\nseems to have confounded the intention with the fulfilment, for they\nwere discovered after his death, but were not thought worthy of being\npublished by his literary executor, Lord Sheffield.[409:3] Gibbon had\nendeavoured to find for his friend Deyverdun some employment in\nEngland, picturesquely observing, that his own \"purse was always open,\nbut it was often empty.\" They wrote in company some numbers of a\nperiodical, now very rare, called \"M\u00e9moires Litt\u00e9raires de La Grande\nBretagne,\" and Gibbon informs us that these specimens of their labours\nintroduced them to the notice of Hume,[410:1] in whose office Deyverdun\nheld an appointment at the date of the following letter:--\n\n\nGIBBON _to_ HUME.\n\n     _Baiton, 4th October, 1767._\n\n     SIR,--A six years' residence in Switzerland inspired me with\n     the design of writing a general history of that brave and free\n     people, so little known to the rest of Europe, but whom I had\n     studied with some attention. This design was dropt almost as\n     soon as conceived, from the almost insurmountable difficulty\n     of procuring proper materials, as they were mostly in German,\n     a language I am totally unacquainted with. A Swiss gentleman,\n     and intimate friend of mine, has removed that difficulty. Mr.\n     Deyverdun, who passed the summer with me in the country two\n     years ago, approved very much my design, and offered to assist\n     me by translating what was most difficult, himself, and by\n     superintending a German translator, as to the remainder. He is\n     now returning to London after a much shorter visit than I\n     desired; and as he has the happiness of supporting some\n     connexion with you, I flattered myself that you might indulge\n     a wish, perhaps presumptuous, that I had conceived, and that\n     you would condescend to glance your eye over the sheets of\n     this History, which I had already drawn up in a language\n     indeed foreign to an Englishman, but which the favourable\n     reception of a former essay engaged me to make use of.\n\n     Give me leave, sir, to add, that I must beg you to consider\n     this liberty as a proof of my respect; and that I shall\n     consider your severity as a mark of your esteem. If you\n     advise me to burn what I have already wrote, I shall\n     immediately execute your sentence, with a full persuasion that\n     it is just. Let me say, however, I have perhaps vanity enough\n     to make so unlimited a sacrifice to no man in Europe but to\n     Mr. Hume. I am, sir, with the greatest esteem, your most\n     obedient humble servant,\n\n                                   E. GIBBON, Junior.[411:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ GIBBON.\n\n\"_London, 24th October, 1767._\n\n\"SIR,--It is but a few days since Mr. Deyverdun put your manuscript into\nmy hands; and I have perused it with great pleasure and satisfaction. I\nhave only one objection, derived from the language in which it is\nwritten. Why do you compose in French, and carry fagots into the wood,\nas Horace says, with regard to the Romans who wrote in Greek? I grant,\nthat you have a like motive to those Romans, and adopt a language much\nmore generally diffused than your native tongue: but have you not\nremarked the fate of those two ancient languages in following ages? The\nLatin, though then less celebrated, and confined to more narrow limits,\nhas, in some measure, outlived the Greek, and is now more generally\nunderstood by men of letters. Let the French, therefore, triumph in the\npresent diffusion of their tongue. Our solid and increasing\nestablishments in America, where we need less dread the inundation of\nbarbarians, promise a superior stability and duration to the English\nlanguage.\n\n\"Your use of the French tongue has also led you into a style more\npoetical and figurative, and more highly coloured, than our language\nseems to admit of in historical productions: for such is the practice of\nFrench writers, particularly the more recent ones, who illuminate their\npictures more than custom will permit us. On the whole, your History, in\nmy opinion, is written with spirit and judgment; and I exhort you very\nearnestly to continue it. The objections that occurred to me on reading\nit were so frivolous, that I shall not trouble you with them, and\nshould, I believe, have a difficulty to collect them. I am, with great\nesteem,\" &c.[412:1]\n\n\nSome remarks communicated to Dr. Robertson, on his \"History of Charles\nV.\" while that work was passing through the press, have deservedly\nattracted notice by their unconstrained and natural playfulness.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. ROBERTSON.\n\n     I got yesterday from Strahan about thirty sheets of your\n     History to be sent over to Suard, and last night and this\n     morning have run them over with great avidity. I could not\n     deny myself the satisfaction (which I hope also will not\n     displease you) of expressing presently my extreme approbation\n     of them. To say only that they are very well written, is by\n     far too faint an expression, and much inferior to the\n     sentiments I feel. They are composed with nobleness, with\n     dignity, with elegance, and with judgment, to which there are\n     few equals. They even excel, and, I think, in a sensible\n     degree, your \"History of Scotland.\" I propose to myself great\n     pleasure in being the only man in England, during some months,\n     who will be in the situation of doing you justice,--after\n     which you may certainly expect that my voice will be drowned\n     in that of the public.\n\n     You know that you and I have always been on the footing of\n     finding in each other's productions _something to blame, and\n     something to commend_; and therefore you may perhaps expect\n     also some seasoning of the former kind; but really neither my\n     leisure nor inclination allowed me to make such remarks; and I\n     sincerely believe you have afforded me very small materials\n     for them. However, such particulars as occur to my memory, I\n     shall mention. _Maltreat_ is a Scoticism which occurs once.\n     What the devil had you to do with that old fashioned dangling\n     word _wherewith_? I should as soon take back _whereupon_,\n     _whereunto_, and _wherewithal_. I think the only tolerable\n     decent gentleman of the family is _wherein_; and I should not\n     choose to be often seen in his company. But I know your\n     affection for _wherewith_ proceeds from your partiality to\n     Dean Swift, whom I can often laugh with, whose style I can\n     even approve, but surely can never admire. It has no harmony,\n     no eloquence, no ornament; and not much correctness, whatever\n     the English may imagine. Were not their literature still in a\n     somewhat barbarous state, that author's place would not be so\n     high among their classics. But what a fancy is this you have\n     taken of saying always _an hand_, _an heart_, _an head_? Have\n     you _an ear_? Do you not know that this (n) is added before\n     vowels to prevent the cacophony, and ought never to take place\n     before (h) when that letter is sounded? It is never pronounced\n     in these words; why should it be wrote? Thus, I should say, _a\n     history_, and _an historian_; and so would you too, if you had\n     any sense. But you tell me that Swift does otherwise. To be\n     sure there is no reply to that; and we must swallow your\n     _hath_ too upon the same authority. I will see you d----d\n     sooner. But I will endeavour to keep my temper.\n\n     I do not like this sentence in page 149: _This step was taken\n     in consequence of the treaty Wolsey had concluded with the\n     Emperor at Brussels, and which had hitherto been kept secret._\n     Si sic omnia dixisses, I should never have been plagued with\n     hearing your praises so often sounded, and that fools\n     preferred your style to mine. Certainly it had been better to\n     have said, _which_ Wolsey, &c. That relative ought very seldom\n     to be omitted; and is here particularly requisite to preserve\n     a symmetry between the two members of the sentence. You omit\n     the relative too often, which is a colloquial barbarism, as Mr\n     Johnson calls it.\n\n     Your periods are sometimes, though not often, too long. Suard\n     will be embarrassed with them, as the modish French style runs\n     into the other extreme.[413:1]\n\nTurgot, at the instigation of some Italian friends, had applied to Hume\nto recommend a scholar, who would undertake to teach the English\nlanguage and literature at Parma. He selected Robert Liston; but he had\noverlooked an objection which the enlightened promoters of the scheme in\nItaly appear to have considered too obvious to require preliminary\nexplanation, that Liston was a Protestant! In returning thanks to Hume\nfor the unavailing recommendation, Liston discovers the bent of his\ngenius, by desiring that, if an opportunity should occur, Hume would\nrecommend him as secretary of legation to any of the secondary\nembassies. The fate of the Parma scheme was thus communicated to Elliot.\n\n\nHUME _to_ SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.\n\n\"_London, 5th July, 1768._\n\n\"DEAR SIR GILBERT,--I beg of you to direct the enclosed to poor Liston,\nwho will be disappointed in the scheme for Parma: they will have nothing\nbut a Papist. Such fools! Let the Pope excommunicate them on the one\nhand: I will do so on the other.\n\n\"I have seen a book newly printed at Edinburgh, called 'Philosophical\nEssays:' it has no manner of sense in it, but is wrote with tolerable\nneatness of style: whence I conjecture it to be our friend, Sir\nDavid's.[414:1] I am obliged to him for the treatment which he destines\nme, to be locked up for five years in a dungeon, and then to be hanged,\nand my carcass to be thrown out of Scotland. He supports himself,\nindeed, by the authority of Plato, whom I own to be truly divine. Pray,\nhave you seen the book? Is it Sir David's? I think it has not so many\nattempts at humour, as that pious gentleman would employ.\n\n\"We are all very quiet here; as quiet as you are at Minto, though\nperhaps not so busy. No more noise of Wilkes and Liberty. Lord Mansfield\nsaid to me, that it was impossible for him to condemn him to the\npillory, because the attorney-general did not demand it. Yesterday he\nrepresented to the Spanish ambassador, that moderate sentence, as a\nrefinement in politics, which reduced the scoundrel the sooner to\nobscurity. It would be a strange cause, which he could not find\nplausible reasons to justify.\n\n\"I beg to be remembered to Lady Elliot, and to any of your family who\nmay be at Minto. I ever am, dear Sir Gilbert, yours sincerely.\"[415:1]\n\n\nSIR GILBERT ELLIOT _to_ HUME.\n\n     \"_Minto, 11th July, 1768._\n\n     \"I am sorry, my dear sir, for poor Liston's disappointment. I\n     am told he thought himself secure. I have seen the book you\n     mention; but you do injustice to our friend Sir David. He is\n     not the author; but a very moral and worthy man, who, I\n     believe, once had the honour to attend you in some of your\n     writings before,--his name James Balfour--at least I am told\n     so. The young feudal author, Gilbert Stewart, is just now in\n     my neighbourhood; and, his father tells me, impatient, to a\n     great degree, for your letter. It seems he is much your\n     admirer. However, I hope my criticisms, on some parts of his\n     work, may keep him from carrying his admiration, on some\n     points, too far. Not that I mean to close with my friend, Mr.\n     Balfour, in his candid proposition for treating you after the\n     manner of the divine Plato. I rest entirely on you for\n     politics, changes of ministry, foreign politics, and domestic\n     occurrences. I have now no correspondents; and I did not think\n     it prudent to engage with any ministerial men; as I might be\n     led, in such a correspondence, to commit mistakes, which may\n     be inconvenient next winter. Farming, I find, is very\n     expensive--days' wages now at a shilling; but our fields are\n     green, and the hedges thrive. I hope to see your brother this\n     autumn. He is very orthodox, I am told, so far as husbandry\n     goes. I hope to hear your love affair, and your King William,\n     are in a good way. My wife not yet arrived. Yours,\" &c.[416:1]\n\nGilbert Stuart, then unknown to fame, whether good or bad, and still\npossessed of any small portion of modesty he had ever been endowed with,\nwas about to publish his little work on the British constitution, the\ntemporary celebrity of which had so prejudicial an effect on his\nsubsequent career. We shall afterwards have an opportunity of noticing\nhim on an occasion when he seems to have thought that the relation which\nHume and he bore to each other, in 1768, of humble admirer and\ndistinguished patron, was reversed in his favour.\n\n\nHUME _to_ SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.\n\n\"_22d July, 1768._\n\n\"DEAR SIR GILBERT,--I send you my letter enclosed to Mr. Stewart; which\nI hope is calculated to encourage a young man of merit. Without\noverstraining the compliment, it were better, however, for him, and for\nevery body, to pursue, in preference to the idle trade of writing, some\nother lawful occupation, such as cheating like an attorney; quacking\nlike a physician; canting and hypocrising like a parson, &c. &c. &c. It\nis for very little purpose to go out of the common track. Does he\nexpect to make men wiser? a very pretty expectation truly!\n\n\"I fancy the ministry will remain; though surely their late remissness,\nor ignorance, or pusillanimity, ought to make them ashamed to show their\nfaces, were it even at Newmarket. There are fine doings in America. O!\nhow I long to see America and the East Indies revolted, totally and\nfinally,--the revenue reduced to half,--public credit fully discredited\nby bankruptcy,--the third of London in ruins, and the rascally mob\nsubdued! I think I am not too old to despair of being witness to all\nthese blessings. I approve of your farming scheme, notwithstanding the\nexpense; though your situation, as well for markets as means of\nimprovement, is not advantageous. My brother's advice may be of use to\nyou; but you are always to remember that he is of the sect of the\n_m\u00e9decin tant pis_; had he possessed enterprise, proportioned to his\nindustry and skill, he might have gone far in that way.[417:1]\n\n\"I continue my parasitical practices; that is, of dining at all the\ngreat tables that remain in London. We are likely to be plagued with\nthis King of Denmark; though not so much as formerly with Canute the\nGreat. I have some thoughts of paying a visit to France this autumn;\nthat is, if I can collect enough of resolution to leave the present\nplace of abode.\n\n\"When I wrote last, I did not know that Lady ---- had eloped; that\npractice continues very fashionable here; and it is to be hoped will\nspread itself more and more every day!\n\n\"I thought Sir David had been the only Christian that could write\nEnglish on the other side of the Tweed. I did not think of Balfour. It\nis very true he would fain, I see, be candid, and civil, as in his other\nbook; if his zeal for the house of the Lord would permit him.\n\n\"Lord Bute certainly sets out this day se'ennight, and, it is said, is\nin a very bad state of health.\n\n\"Lord Chatham is a greater paradox than ever:--is seen at home by no\nhuman creature;--absolutely by none! rides twenty miles every day,--is\nseen on the road, and appears in perfect good health; but will now speak\nto no creature he meets. I am much persuaded, all is quackery;--he is\nnot mad; that is, no madder than usual.\"[418:1]\n\n\nTowards the end of the year 1768, poor Smollett, with his spirit crushed\nby the united calamities of a broken constitution and ruined fortunes,\nsought to retrieve his health, by travelling in Italy. Before commencing\nhis journey, he wrote the following letter; in which the too apparent\ntone of despondency is yet insufficient to damp the kindly warmth of his\nfeelings:--\n\n\nTOBIAS SMOLLETT _to_ HUME.\n\n     _London, 31st August, 1768._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--Perhaps I overrate my own consequence when I\n     presume to recommend to your acquaintance and good offices,\n     the bearer, Captain Robert Stobo; a man whose very\n     extraordinary services and sufferings in America, have\n     merited, and obtained the most ample and honourable\n     testimonials, which he will gladly submit to your perusal. I\n     can safely say from my own knowledge, that he is not less\n     modest and sensible in the conversation and occurrences of\n     civil life, than enterprising and indefatigable in his\n     military capacity. All these good qualities, united to an\n     extensive knowledge of our American concerns, cannot fail to\n     engage the friendship and regard of Mr. David Hume, from what\n     quarter so ever they may come recommended.\n\n     With respect to myself, I am sorry I cannot have the pleasure\n     of taking leave of you in person, before I go into perpetual\n     exile. I sincerely wish you all health and happiness. In\n     whatever part of the earth it may be my fate to reside, I\n     shall always remember with pleasure, and recapitulate with\n     pride, the friendly intercourse I have maintained with one of\n     the best men, and undoubtedly the best writer of the age; if\n     any judgment in distinguishing either character or capacity\n     may be allowed to, dear sir, your very humble servant,\n\n                                             T{S} SMOLLETT.\n\n          Nos patriam fugimus: tu, Tityre, lentus in umbra,\n          Formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.[419:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ TOBIAS SMOLLETT.\n\n\"_Ragley,[419:2] September 21, 1768._\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--I did not see your friend, Captain Stobo, till the day\nbefore I left Cirencester, and only for a little time; but he seemed to\nbe a man of good sense, and has surely had the most extraordinary\nadventures in the world. He has promised to call on me when he comes to\nLondon, and I shall always see him with pleasure.\n\n\"But what is this you tell me of your perpetual exile, and of your never\nreturning to this country? I hope that as this idea arose from the bad\nstate of your health, it will vanish on your recovery; which, from your\npast experience, you may expect from those happier climates to which you\nare retiring; after which the desire of revisiting your native country\nwill probably return upon you, unless the superior cheapness of foreign\ncountries prove an obstacle, and detain you there. I could wish that\nmeans had been fallen on to remove this objection; and that at least it\nmight be equal to you to live any where, except where the consideration\nof your health gave the preference to one climate above another. But the\nindifference of ministers towards literature, which has been long, and\nindeed always, the case in England, gives little prospect of any\nalteration in this particular.\n\n\"I am sensible of your great partiality, in the good opinion you express\ntowards me; but it gives me no less pleasure than if it were founded on\nthe greatest truth, for I accept it as a pledge of your good will and\nfriendship. I wish an opportunity of showing my sense of it may present\nitself during your absence. I assure you I should embrace it with great\nalacrity, and you need have no scruple, on every occasion, of having\nrecourse to me. I am, my dear sir, with great esteem and sincerity, your\nmost obedient, and most humble servant,\" &c.[420:1]\n\n\nOf the following remarkable letter, the first paragraph, relating to the\nsuccess of John Home's new play, has already been published.[420:2] The\nremainder will probably be as surprising to the reader as it is new. It\nis very evident that Hume exercised towards the great Chatham, Dr.\nJohnson's virtue of honest hatred. There was indeed little love lost\nbetween these great contemporaries; for Chatham fiercely attacked the\nconstitutional doctrines of the History of England, and Hume looked upon\nthe national idol as an unprincipled demagogue. The words with which\nthe observations on the Douglas cause conclude, are evidence of the\ncontempt which, amidst all his Tory prepossessions, Hume preserved for\nmerely hereditary rank, and indeed for all nominal and outward marks of\ndistinction, which were not allied to intellectual superiority.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_Park Place, London, 28th March, 1769._\n\n\"DEAR DOCTOR,--'The Fatal Discovery' succeeded, and deserved it. It has\nfeeling, though not equal to 'Douglas,' in my opinion. The versification\nof it is not enough finished. Our friend escaped by lying concealed; but\nthe success of all plays in this age is very feeble; and people now heed\nthe theatre almost as little as the pulpit.[421:1] History now is the\nfavourite reading, and our other friend[421:2] the favourite historian.\nNothing can be more successful than his last production; nor more\ndeservedly. I agree with you, it is beyond his first performance, as was\nindeed natural to be expected. I hope, for a certain reason, which I\nkeep to myself, that he does not intend, in his third work, to go beyond\nhis second, though I am damnably afraid he will, for the subject is much\nmore interesting. Neither the character of Charles V., nor the incidents\nof his life, are very interesting; and, were it not for the first\nvolume, the success of this work, though perfectly well writ, would not\nhave been so shining.\n\n\"This madness about Wilkes excited first indignation, then apprehension;\nbut has gone to such a height that all other sentiments with me are\nburied in ridicule. This exceeds the absurdity of Titus Gates and the\nPopish plot: and is so much more disgraceful to the nation, as the\nformer folly, being derived from religion, flowed from a source which\nhas from uniform prescription acquired a right to impose nonsense on all\nnations and all ages. But the present extravagance is peculiar to\nourselves, and quite risible. However, I am afraid my mirth will soon be\nspoilt, and affairs become quite serious; for I am well assured that\nLord Chatham will, after the holidays, creep out from his retreat and\nappear on the scene.\n\n     Depositis novus exuviis, nitidusque juvent\u00e2,\n     Volvitur ad solem et linguis micat ore trisulcis.\n\n\"I know not if I cite Virgil exactly,[422:1] but I am sure I apply him\nright. This villain is to thunder against the violation of the Bill of\nRights in not allowing the county of Middlesex the choice of its\nmember! Think of the impudence of that fellow,[423:1] and his\nquackery--and his cunning--and his audaciousness: and judge of the\ninfluence he will have over such a deluded multitude.\n\n\"I was struck with a very sensible indignation at the decision of the\nDouglas cause,[423:2] though I foresaw it for some time. It was\nabominable with regard to poor Andrew Stuart, who had conducted that\ncause with singular ability and integrity; and was at last exposed to\nreproach, which unfortunately never can be wiped off. For the cause,\nthough not in the least intricate, is so complicated, that it never will\nbe reviewed by the public, who are besides perfectly pleased with the\nsentence; being swayed by compassion and a few popular topics. To one\nwho understands the cause as I do, nothing could appear more scandalous\nthan the pleadings of the two law lords. Such gross misrepresentation,\nsuch impudent assertions, such groundless imputations, never came from\nthat place. But all was good enough for their audience; who, bating\ntheir quality, are most of them little better than their brethren the\nWilkites in the streets.\n\n\"I am very much obliged to you for giving me the acquaintance of your\ncousin, Mr. Blair,[423:3] who seems, indeed, to me, a very accomplished\nyoung man. The death of your brother-in-law is a great loss to you, and\neven to us all. I comprehend myself; for I intend to visit you soon, and\nfor good and all. Indeed, I know not what detains me here, except that\nit is so much a matter of indifference where I live; and I am amused\nwith looking on the scene, which really begins to be interesting. I had\ntaken one of Allan Ramsay's houses;[424:1] but gave it up again, on the\nrepresentation of some of my friends in Edinburgh, who said that a\nhouse, on the north side of a high hill, in the 56th degree of latitude,\ncould not be healthful. But I now repent it, though I have my old house\nto retreat to till I get a better. I am glad you like my nephew. He is,\nindeed, clever, though, I am afraid, a little giddy.[424:2]\"\n\n\nAndrew Stuart, who is noticed in the preceding letter, and has\nfrequently been referred to in Hume's correspondence, was a man of great\ntalent. His letters to Lord Mansfield, on the Douglas cause, remarkable\nfor their solemn asperity, belong to a species of literature, of which\nthe English language scarcely boasts of any other instance,--a\nsystematic and serious arraignment of the conduct of a Judge in the\nhighest court in the realm, by the law agent of a litigant! Stuart\nconducted the investigations in France, on which the evidence that the\nchildren said to be born to Lady Jane Douglas were spurious, was\nfounded; and from the strange circumstances brought forward in the\nevidence, we can imagine that, if Stuart had left a diary of his\nadventures and inquiries, few works of fiction could be more\ninteresting. His arraignment of the judge was accompanied by an act\nalmost equally anomalous: his challenging the counsel on the other\nside--who was Mr. Wedderburn, afterwards Lord Loughborough--on account\nof the manner in which his conduct had been spoken of in the appeal\ncase. The challenge was accepted; but neither party was wounded. From\noccasional allusions, in Hume's correspondence, he and Stuart appear to\nhave been early friends; and many of the letters, which he preserved,\nwithin a few years of his death, are from Stuart, who, occasionally,\nappears to write in acknowledgment of pecuniary advances. Among Hume's\npapers, there is a letter, of which the address has not been preserved,\nbut in which there is a note, in Baron Hume's handwriting, that it was,\n\"respecting his friend Stuart--Andrew, I suppose.\" The letter has a\nsufficient interest in itself. It is as follows:--\n\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--Nothing can be more just than the sentiment you have\nexpressed in your letter. I am to be envied for having had it in my\npower to contribute to the happiness of the best man, and the most\nintimate friend I have ever had in the world. There is nothing else in\nthe possession of a fortune that deserves the least envy or the least\nconsideration. Every man is independent who thinks himself so. But every\nman has not been blessed with such a friend, or with the power of\nshowing, in some small degree, the value he puts upon worth, delicacy,\nattachment, and ability like his. It adds to my happiness not a little,\nthat your sentiments coincide so entirely with mine. You have known\nStuart enough to value him as much as I do; and he has too much\ndiscernment not to put the same high value upon you, which you have\ncommanded from every one of your friends.\"\n\n\nHume received a letter from the Abb\u00e9 Morellet, dated 15th May\n1769,[426:1] requesting him to accept of a copy of his forthcoming\n\"Prospectus d'un Nouveau Dictionnaire de Commerce;\" and to distribute\nsome others among a list of names, including those of Adam Smith and\nBenjamin Franklin. The comprehensive work of which the Abb\u00e9 thus\ndeveloped what he considered the proper principles, was never written by\nhim. He was too much occupied with fugitive literature, and the\nabsorbing politics of the time, to be able seriously to pursue a project\ninvolving so much steady industry. Hume answered as follows:--\n\n\nHUME _to the_ ABB\u00c9 MORELLET.\n\n     _London, 10th July, 1769._\n\n     That part of your prospectus, in which you endeavour to prove\n     that there enters nothing of human convention in the\n     establishment of money, is certainly very curious, and very\n     elaborately composed; and yet I cannot forbear thinking that\n     the common opinion has some foundation. It is true, money must\n     always be made of some materials, which have intrinsic value,\n     otherwise it would be multiplied without end, and would sink\n     to nothing. But, when I take a shilling, I consider it not as\n     a useful metal, but as something which another will take from\n     me; and the person who shall convert it into metal is,\n     probably, several millions of removes distant. You know that\n     all states have made it criminal to melt their coin; and,\n     though this is a law which cannot well be executed, it is not\n     to be supposed that, if it could, it would entirely destroy\n     the value of the money, according to your hypothesis. You have\n     a base coin, called billon, in France, composed of silver and\n     copper, which has a ready currency, though the separation of\n     the two metals, and the reduction of them to their primitive\n     state, would, I am told, be both expensive and troublesome.\n     Our shillings and sixpences, which are almost our only silver\n     coin, are so much worn by use, that they are twenty, thirty,\n     or forty per cent. below their original value; yet they pass\n     currently; which can arise only from a tacit convention. Our\n     colonies in America, for want of specie, used to coin a paper\n     currency; which were not bank notes, because there was no\n     place appointed to give money in exchange: yet this paper\n     currency passed in all payments, by convention; and might have\n     gone on, had it not been abused by the several assemblies, who\n     issued paper without end, and thereby discredited the\n     currency.\n\n     You mention several kinds of money, sheep, oxen, fish,\n     employed as measures of exchange, or as money, in different\n     parts of the world. You have overlooked that, in our colony of\n     Pennsylvania, the land itself, which is the chief commodity,\n     is coined, and passes in circulation. The manner of conducting\n     this affair is as follows:--A planter, immediately after he\n     purchases any land, can go to a public office and receive\n     notes to the amount of half the value of his land; which notes\n     he employs in all payments, and they circulate through the\n     whole colony, by convention. To prevent the public from being\n     overwhelmed by this fictitious money, there are two means\n     employed--first, the notes issued to any one planter, must not\n     exceed a certain sum, whatever may be the value of his land:\n     secondly, every planter is obliged to pay back into the public\n     office every year one-tenth part of his notes; the whole, of\n     course, is annihilated in ten years; after which, it is again\n     allowed him to take out new notes to half the value of his\n     land. An account of this curious operation would enrich your\n     dictionary; and you may have a more particular detail of it,\n     if you please, from Dr. Franklin, who will be in Paris about\n     this time, and will be glad to see you. I conveyed to him your\n     prospectus, and he expressed to me a great esteem of it.\n\n     I see that, in your prospectus, you take care not to disoblige\n     your economists, by any declaration of your sentiments; in\n     which I commend your prudence. But I hope that in your work\n     you will thunder them, and crush them, and pound them, and\n     reduce them to dust and ashes! They are, indeed, the set of\n     men the most chimerical and most arrogant that now exist,\n     since the annihilation of the Sorbonne. I ask your pardon for\n     saying so, as I know you belong to that venerable body. I\n     wonder what could engage our friend, M. Turgot, to herd among\n     them; I mean, among the economists; though I believe he was\n     also a Sorbonnist.\n\n     I sent your prospectus to Dr. Tucker, but have not heard from\n     him since. I shall myself deliver copies to Dr. Robertson and\n     Mr. Smith, as I go to Scotland this autumn.\n\n     And now, my dear Abb\u00e9, what remains to me but to wish you\n     success in your judicious labours? to embrace you, and through\n     you, to embrace all our common friends, D'Alembert, Helv\u00e9tius,\n     Buffon, Baron d'Holbach, Suard, Mlle. L'Espinasse? Poor Abb\u00e9\n     Le Bon is dead, I hear. The Abb\u00e9 Galliani goes to Naples: he\n     does well to leave Paris before I come thither; for I should\n     certainly put him to death for all the ill he has spoken of\n     England. But it has happened, as was foretold by his friend,\n     Caraccioli; who said that the Abb\u00e9 would remain two months in\n     this country, would speak all himself, would not allow an\n     Englishman to utter a syllable; and after returning would give\n     the character of the nation during the rest of his life, as if\n     he were perfectly well acquainted with them.\n\n     Pray make my compliments to M. Malet\u00eate. Tell him, that Prince\n     Masserane says, that he has saved much effusion of blood to\n     this country. It is certain that M. Malet\u00eate had a great\n     curiosity to see a riot here, and yet was resolved to keep his\n     person in safety. For this purpose, he hired a window; and\n     proposed to be present at one of the mad elections of Wilkes,\n     and to divert himself with the fray. Somebody got a hint of\n     it, and put it into the newspapers; asking the freeholders if\n     they were so degenerate as to make themselves a laughing\n     stock, even to the French, their enemies, whom they despised.\n     Prince Masserane alleges that this incident made that election\n     so remarkably peaceable!\n\n     Are you acquainted with Cr\u00e9billon? I am ashamed to mention his\n     name. He sent me over his last work, with a very obliging\n     letter: but as I must write to him in French, I have never\n     answered him. If all the English were as impertinent as I am,\n     the Abb\u00e9 Galliani would have reason to abuse us.--I am, dear\n     Abb\u00e9, after asking your blessing, yours sincerely.[428:1]\n\n\"I returned to Edinburgh in 1769,\" says Hume in his \"own Life,\" \"very\nopulent, (for I possessed a revenue of \u00a31000 a-year) healthy, and though\nsomewhat stricken in years, with the prospect of enjoying long my ease,\nand of seeing the increase of my reputation.\" He had thus finally\ntriumphed over the temptations which assailed him abroad, and resolved\nto spend the remainder of his days among the friends of his youth. He\nhad received very strong solicitations from Madame de Boufflers and\nothers, to take up his abode at Paris. In one letter she informs him\nthat there is a house prepared for him in the Temple, and another with a\nlarge garden near the Bois de Boulogne.[429:1] To these pressing offers\nhe seems not to have trusted himself with rendering a direct answer,\nleaving his projects undefined, until, by returning to Edinburgh, he\nrendered the acceptance of such invitations impracticable. Fairly\nre-established in his old house in James's Court, and enjoying its\nmagnificent prospect, we find him thus writing to Smith:--\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_James's Court, 20th August, 1769._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--I am glad to have come within sight of you, and to have a\nview of Kirkaldy from my windows: but as I wish also to be within\nspeaking terms of you, I wish we could concert measures for that\npurpose. I am mortally sick at sea, and regard with horror, and a kind\nof hydrophobia, the great gulf[429:2] that lies between us. I am also\ntired of travelling; as much as you ought naturally to be of staying at\nhome. I therefore propose to you to come hither, and pass some days with\nme in this solitude. I want to know what you have been doing; and\npropose to exact a rigorous account of the method in which you have\nemployed yourself during your retreat. I am positive you are in the\nwrong in many of your speculations, especially where you have the\nmisfortune to differ from me. All these are reasons for our meeting, and\nI wish you would make me some reasonable proposal for that purpose.\nThere is no habitation on the island of Inchkeith, otherwise I should\nchallenge you to meet me on that spot, and neither of us ever to leave\nthe place, till we were fully agreed on all points of controversy. I\nexpect General Conway here to morrow, whom I shall attend to Roseneath,\nand I shall remain there a few days. On my return, I expect to find a\nletter from you, containing a bold acceptance of this defiance. I am,\ndear Smith, yours sincerely.\"[430:1]\n\n\nThe letters addressed to Hume at this time, show that he had made\ninquiries with the view of continuing the education of his nephews at\none of the English universities. The following letter explains the\nreason why this plan was not adopted.\n\n\nHUME _to_ SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 16th October, 1769._\n\n\"DEAR SIR GILBERT,--I am very much obliged to you for the pains you have\ntaken to give me an account of your sons' expenses and management at\nOxford. I found my brother undetermined, or rather averse, to the\nproject. He thinks his son rather inclines to be dissipated and idle;\nand believes that a year or two at Oxford would confirm him thoroughly\nin that habit, without any other advantage than the acquiring of a\nlittle better pronunciation; for this reason he seems rather inclined to\ntry him a year in the Law College here, before he makes him so much his\nown master.\n\n\"I have been settled here two months, and am here body and soul, without\ncasting the least thought of regret to London, or even to Paris. I think\nit improbable that I shall ever in my life cross the Tweed, except\nperhaps a jaunt to the north of England, for health or amusement. I live\nstill, and must for a twelvemonth, in my old house in James's Court,\nwhich is very cheerful, and even elegant, but too small to display my\ngreat talent for cookery, the science to which I intend to addict the\nremaining years of my life! I have just now lying on the table before\nme, a receipt for making _soupe \u00e0 la reine_, copied with my own hand:\nfor beef and cabbage, (a charming dish,) and old mutton, and old claret,\nnobody excels me. I make also sheep-head broth, in a manner that Mr.\nKeith speaks of it for eight days after; and the Duc de Nivernois would\nbind himself apprentice to my lass to learn it. I have already sent a\nchallenge to David Moncreif: you will see that in a twelvemonth he will\ntake to the writing of history, the field I have deserted; for as to the\ngiving of dinners, he can now have no further pretensions. I should have\nmade a very bad use of my abode in Paris, if I could not get the better\nof a mere provincial like him. All my friends encourage me in this\nambition; as thinking it will redound very much to my honour.\n\n\"I am delighted to see the daily and hourly progress of madness, and\nfolly, and wickedness in England. The consummation of these qualities\nare the true ingredients for making a fine narrative in history,\nespecially if followed by some signal and ruinous convulsion,--as I\nhope will soon be the case with that pernicious people! He must be a\nvery bad cook indeed, who cannot make a palatable dish from the whole.\nYou see in my reflexions and allusions, I shall mix my old and new\nprofessions together. I am, dear Sir Gilbert, your most obedient humble\nservant,\" &c.[432:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 5th February, 1770._\n\n\"DEAR SIR GILBERT,--I do not know whether you be good for any thing, or\nat all worth the applying to; I rather suspect not: but in case you are,\nI make you the following application in favour of Christopher Tate,\nprobationer, who was tutor to my nephews. You know I resigned my\npretensions on the presentation of Humbie to your nephew's tutor; but\nunder promise, that you would assist me in a like case. This kirk is a\nking's presentation; it is within your county, and I very earnestly\ndesire success in this application, and trust much to your friendship in\nit.\n\n\"The last unexpected incident strikes us mute with astonishment; either\nthe Duke of Grafton is much to blame for leaving us so abruptly in so\nvery critical a time, or a greater than he, if he got any just cause for\nit. I carry my view to very dismal consequences, especially as I suspect\nthe last to be the case. I fancy we shall have curious scenes, worthy\nthe pen of the greatest historian. I am tired and disgusted with\nconjecture. My compliments to Lady Elliot. Believe me to be very\nsincerely, your affectionate humble servant,\" &c.[432:2]\n\n\nTo Smith, whose \"Wealth of Nations\" was now supposed to be nearly ready\nfor the press, we find the following letter:--\n\n\n\"_6th February, 1770._\n\n\"What is the meaning of this, dear Smith, which we hear, that you are\nnot to be here above a day or two, on your passage to London? How can\nyou so much as entertain a thought of publishing a book full of reason,\nsense, and learning, to those wicked abandoned madmen?\n\n\"I suppose you have not yet got over your astonishment at this most\nastonishing resignation. For my part, I knew not at first whether to\nthrow the blame on the Duke or the King; but I now find it is entirely\nand completely the Duke's own; and I think him dishonoured for ever.\"\n\n\nThis refers to the Duke of Grafton's resignation, of which he proceeds\nto quote an account from \"a very good hand,\" prophesying tranquillity\nand the restoration of confidence.\n\n\"So far my friend--whose prophecy I hope will be fulfilled; though, for\nmy part, I am rather inclined to give myself up to despair. Nothing but\na rebellion and bloodshed will open the eyes of that deluded people;\nthough, were they alone concerned, I think it is no matter what becomes\nof them.\"[433:1]\n\nIn the following letter, we have a farther, and a very strong instance\nof Hume's dislike of the English as a people. We find him again busy in\nsifting his History of all remains of popular principles; and there is a\ntone throughout the letter, as if it were satisfactory to him to be able\nto overturn the objects of popular idolatry, which a people he so\nheartily disliked had endeavoured to set up, in the alleged antiquity of\ntheir constitution.\n\n\nHUME _to_ SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 21st February, 1770._\n\n\"DEAR SIR GILBERT,--I am glad of your victories; though I look upon them\nall as temporary and imperfect, like the fallacious recoveries of a\nhectic person, who is hastening to his dissolution. Our government has\nbecome a chimera, and is too perfect, in point of liberty, for so rude a\nbeast as an Englishman; who is a man, a bad animal too, corrupted by\nabove a century of licentiousness. The misfortune is, that this liberty\ncan scarcely be retrenched without danger of being entirely lost; at\nleast the fatal effects of licentiousness must first be made palpable,\nby some extreme mischief resulting from it. I may wish that the\ncatastrophe should rather fall on our posterity; but it hastens on with\nsuch large strides, as leave little room for this hope.\n\n\"I am running over again the last edition of my History, in order to\ncorrect it still further. I either soften or expunge many villanous,\nseditious Whig strokes, which had crept into it. I wish that my\nindignation at the present madness, encouraged by lies, calumnies,\nimposture, and every infamous act usual among popular leaders, may not\nthrow me into the opposite extreme. I am, however, sensible that the\nfirst editions were too full of those foolish English prejudices, which\nall nations and all ages disavow.\n\n\"The present firm conduct of the king, and his manly resentment, afford\nsome glimpse of hope. We, at a distance, are not acquainted with these\nmatters; and few even at London; but there still appears something\nmysterious in the Duke of Grafton's resignation. I hope it proceeded\nonly from his discontents with Bedford House.\n\n\"But I detain you too long. I shall only conclude, that, though I reckon\nmyself among the _sepoliti_, I cannot forbear expressing my hearty good\nwishes to your cause and you. I am, very sincerely, dear Sir Gilbert,\nyour obliged humble servant.\"[435:1]\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 5th April, 1770._\n\n\"I am sorry to inform you, that all we statesmen in this town condemn\nloudly the conduct of you statesmen in London, especially in allowing\nthose insolent rascals, the mayor and sheriffs, to escape with impunity.\nWe were much disappointed not to find them impeached, and a bill of\npains and penalties passed upon them. The tumults which might have\nensued in London, we thought rather an advantage; as it would give\ngovernment an opportunity of chastising that abominable rabble. But you\nhave thought otherwise; and it is pretended that these lenient maxims\nare succeeding; that faction abates, the tide turns, and the heroes of\nopposition are in despair. I am heartily glad of it: but this is a new\nexperiment to reconcile such extreme license with government; and if, in\na case where popular complaints had not the smallest shadow of pretence,\nthe king and parliament have prevailed, after a long struggle, and with\nmuch difficulty, what must it be, where there is some plausible\nappearance, and perhaps some real ground of complaint, such as it is\nnatural to expect in all governments? However, I repeat it, I am glad of\nthe present appearance of tranquillity; and, indeed, distant dangers are\nnot to be too anxiously provided against. I am,\" &c.\n\n\nHume seems to have now commenced the building of the house, in the New\nTown of Edinburgh, in which he died. It was the commencement of the\nstreet leading southward from St. Andrew's Square, now called St. David\nStreet.[436:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ BARON MURE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 2d October, 1770._\n\n\"DEAR BARON,--I am sorry that I should correspond so ill to your very\nobliging letter, by telling you, that I cannot propose to see you till\nyou come to town next winter. I am engaged in the building a house,\nwhich is the second great operation of human life: for the taking a wife\nis the first, which I hope will come in time; and by being present, I\nhave already prevented two capital mistakes, which the mason was falling\ninto; and I shall be apprehensive of his falling into more, were I to be\nat a distance. I must therefore renounce the hopes of seeing you at your\nown house this autumn, which, I assure [you,] I do with much regret. My\ncompliments to Mrs. Mure and the young ladies. Please tell Miss Kitty,\nthat my coat is much admired, even before I tell that it is her livery.\nFor her sake I shall be careful that it never meet with any such\naccident, as the last. I am, dear Baron, yours very sincerely.[436:2]\n\n\"P.S.--Mr. Moore's verses are really very elegant.\"\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[383:1] In the conclusion of Hume's letter to Dr. Blair, of 27th May,\n1767, cited above, there is the following paragraph:--\n\n\"Pray, how has the General Assembly passed? I have had a long letter\nfrom Mass David Dickson, complaining of your injustice. Has John Home\nany thoughts of coming up? Tell Robertson that the compliment, at the\nend of General Conway's letter to him, was of my composing, without any\norders from him. He smiled when he read it, but said it was very proper,\nand signed it. These are not bad puffs from ministers of state, as the\nsilly world goes.\" I inferred from this that the letter in question was\nthe King's letter to the General Assembly of 1767; but I find no\nallusion to Robertson in that document, and am not aware of any letter,\ngenerally known at the period, which answers the above description. It\nis clear that Hume refers to some official communication from the\nsecretary of state. The letter from Dickson is a long complaint about\nthe conduct of some judicatories as to a forgotten church dispute. It\nbegins with the statement;--\"I am informed that His Majesty's letter to\nthe General Assembly, of this year, is issued from the secretary's\noffice, under your direction.\" As it is pretty generally believed that\nthe policy of the Home-office, in its communications with the Church of\nScotland, was directed by Hume, during the period when he was under\nsecretary, the following extract from the King's letter to the General\nAssembly, in 1767, is given, that the reader may judge for himself\nwhether the style and matter are characteristic of Hume's pen:--\n\n\"Convinced, as we are, of your prudence and firm resolution to concur in\nwhatever may promote the happiness of our subjects, it is unnecessary\nfor us to recommend to you to avoid contentious and unedifying debates;\nas well as to avoid every thing that may tend to disturb that harmony\nand tranquillity which is so essential in councils solely calculated for\nthe suppression of every species of licentiousness, irreligion, and\nvice. And, as we have the firmest reliance on your zeal in the support\nof the Christian faith, as well as in the wisdom and prudence of your\ncouncils, we are thoroughly assured that they will be directed to such\npurposes as may best tend to enforce a conscientious observance of all\nthose duties which the true religion, and laws of this kingdom require,\nand on which the felicity of every individual so essentially\ndepends.\"[383:A]\n\n     [383:A] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[385:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[385:2] See above, p. 56.\n\n[386:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[386:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[388:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[388:2] John Oswald, brother of Mr. Oswald of Dunnikier, who was\ntranslated from the see of Dromore to that of Raphoe in 1763.\n\n[390:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[392:1] Copies in R.S.E. The originals are in possession of Colonel\nMure.\n\n[392:2] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 666. Original, MS. R.S.E.\n\n[393:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[394:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[395:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[395:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[396:1] _Literary Gazette_. MS. R.S.E.\n\n[397:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[398:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[398:2] An early acquaintance with this characteristic, might have saved\nthe present writer some fruitless investigations.\n\n[399:1] There are two letters from Blacklock to Hume, remarkably\ncharacteristic of the timid and excitable character of the blind genius.\nAfter an exordium on the tone which he hopes their intercourse will\nmaintain, full of nervous susceptibility; the fear of being too profuse\nin correspondence alternating with the dread that he may be thought\ncold, negligent, or ungrateful; he gives an account of the education of\nhis pupil, Joseph, and then turns towards his own dark prospects.\n\n\"It was not indeed without some fear that I undertook the office. The\nvivacity of his disposition, and even the quickness of his genius,\ninspired me with terror that I should not be able to manage the one, or\nmake any lasting impression upon the other. But how agreeable was my\ndisappointment to find his temper, though lively, extremely amiable and\nflexible, and his apprehension, though quick, yet distinct and\nretentive. He applies with a diligence not often found in people of his\nage and character. As during this winter we had a pretty numerous\nfamily, most of whom were gentlemen of parts and spirit, I have seen\nnumberless instances in which his passions, though warm and sensible,\nwere governed with a discretion worthy of mature age and experience, yet\nin such a manner as to preserve his dignity, and betray no degree of\ncomplaisance unworthy of his spirit, or inconsistent with his ingenuity.\nYou cannot imagine but such an object must pre-engage every susceptible\nheart. He is really admired by all the young gentlemen of our family who\nknow him. I love him, and Mrs. Blacklock doats on him; yet there are\nnot, perhaps, two in the human species who have it in their power to vex\nme in the same degree, if at any time he should be more remiss and\ncareless than usual. He is now reading French with Mons{r} Cauvin, and\nthe Satires of Horace, and Homer's Iliad, with me.\n\n\"Mr. Alexander's account of my situation, in general, was right. I have\nindeed got clear of a parish where I could have never been happy, even\nthough their malice had been less implacable than I found it. But when I\nleft that vindictive place, my poetical vanity was not quite\nextinguished; and it is natural for those who have felt the oppressive\nhand of unprovoked injury, to expect a kinder and more human reception,\nwhere civility, politeness, and gentler manners prevail. These\nsentiments, too sanguinely indulged, might perhaps have raised my hopes\ntoo high, and taught me to anticipate a greater degree of notice from\nthe people of taste and learning in this place, than I have either\nobtained or deserved. Be that as it will, I am at present almost an\nabsolute recluse; and when I meet with any of the virtuosi in public\nplaces, (where, indeed, I do not commonly appear,) their behaviour seems\nmore cool and reserved than I could have thought. Not that all my\nself-importance can flatter me with any degree of merit in this way; but\nsurely it was not unnatural to hope the enterprises which I attempted in\nthe circumstances in which I was involved, might have attracted some\ndegree of attention, and impressed some faint prepossessions in my\nfavour, when not opposed by any vice or immorality in my character. For\nthese reasons, as well as the private and disinterested attachment of my\nheart, you will naturally imagine the pleasure I feel from the prospect\nof your arrival in Edinburgh, and from my promised intercourse with one,\nwho, though he might do honour to the republic of letters in any period,\nyet descends to honour me with the name of a FRIEND.\"\n\nIn the other letter, dated 2d May, 1767, he states that he has been\noverworking himself; and says, \"My old nervous complaints have been like\nto return, and unhinge all our schemes; but, thank God, they are a\nlittle better again.\" He then details, with some minuteness, the reasons\nfor feeling that his pecuniary prospects are precarious; and ascribes\nhis exertions to his wish \"to do something, if possible, for these\napproaching contingencies,\" which, he says, \"the natural gloom\" of his\nmind has made \"not very distant.\" He continues:--\n\n\"You was so kind as hint your friendly intention towards a church\nsettlement. That, I begin to think, I am unfit to encounter with again;\nfor the ten thousand hardships and disagreeable things which I met with\nin my short but dear-bought experience of that kind of life, brought me\na great way on in my journey down hill; so that if any one of them\nshould again occur in another trial, I would certainly soon reach the\nfoot of the precipice. This event is matter of no great thought to\nmyself, but as it may concern one not undeservedly dear to me.\"\n\nThese letters are written with great precision, in a small, neat,\nregular hand; and, though duly signed, \"Thos. Blacklock,\" it is clear\nthat they cannot be the penmanship of their sightless author.\n\nAppended to the second, and in a bolder and more masculine looking hand,\nis the following:--\n\n\"Mrs. Blacklock begs leave to offer her compliments to Mr. Hume,\nherself; and to supplicate some easy thing, if it can be procured,\n(without giving Mr. Hume much trouble,) for her friend, whom she has\nbeen a good deal apprehensive for this spring, by reason of his close\nstudy. Our college has acquired a new professor for natural history. Do\nyou think one for poetry could be added, with a moderate salary to\nit?\"--MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[401:1] The dates of the births of John Home's children, as entered in\nthe Kirk-session Record of Chirnside, are:--Joseph, 24th June, 1752;\nJohn, 21st April, 1754; Helen, 22d August, 1755; David, 27th February,\n1757; John, 29th April, 1758; Catherine, 9th November, 1760; Agnes, 7th\nOctober, 1763; Agatha, 31st December, 1764. His wife was Agnes Carre,\ndaughter of Robert Carre of Cavers, in Roxburghshire.\n\n[402:1] \"Hume carried the torch into all the recesses of actual\npractice. He not only made himself familiar with all the scattered\nmatter that had been published, though much of it had been hid in places\nnot commonly explored; but he was the very first who went systematically\nto the records, and filtered these fountain heads.\"--_Ed. Rev._, January\n1846, p. 197.\n\n[404:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[405:1] A comparison of the two brothers, Joseph and David, is thus made\nby their father in a letter to his brother of 21st November, 1768. He\nbegins with David: \"He still shows the same talents and temper, and an\nattention and keenness for what he is employed about, and might go very\nfar in any profession if he was properly directed, and quite in a\ndifferent manner from any of the rest, particularly from Josey, whose\ntrifling superficial talents makes him never apply to any thing\nthoroughly, nor do I ever expect he will. He this winter is at Mr.\nFerguson and Blair's classes, and the Italian, which completes his\nuniversity education. I am totally at a loss what to do with him after.\nLaw will never do with him. The army he inclines not to, though that, as\nhe has address and behaviour, is best calculated for him.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[406:1] _Scots Magazine_, 1807, p. 247.\n\n[406:2] Sir Gilbert had succeeded to the baronetcy on the death of his\nfather, in 1766.\n\n[407:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[408:1] This is probably in allusion to Wilkes having obtained his\nverdict of \u00a31000 damages against the Secretary of State for the seizure\nof his papers.\n\n[408:2] Minto MSS.\n\n[409:1] A Scottish artist, whose productions are known to collectors,\nbut who has not been handed down to posterity by the critics and\nbiographers.\n\n[409:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[409:3] Milman's edition of Gibbon's Life, p. 216.\n\n[410:1] Deyverdun had (in a letter, MS. R.S.E.) acknowledged himself to\nbe the author of an attack on Rousseau, which the latter attributed to\nHume.\n\n[411:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[412:1] Life of Gibbon.\n\n[413:1] Stewart's Life of Robertson.\n\n[414:1] The \"Philosophical Essays\" were not written by Sir David\nDalrymple, as here hinted, but as Sir Gilbert explains, by James\nBalfour, who has already been mentioned, (see vol. i. p. 160, 345.) The\nEssays were mainly directed against Kaimes' \"Essays on Morality and\nNatural Religion.\"\n\n[415:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[416:1] MS. R.S.E. I can find no light on the meaning of the words \"love\naffair.\"\n\n[417:1] Mr. Home was a very cautious farmer, and carried his dislike of\nnovelties and innovations to the unprecedented extent of declining the\nhigher rents he might have obtained from enterprising tenants.\n\n[418:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[419:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[419:2] Perhaps a false transcript for Hagley, the seat of Lord\nLyttelton.\n\n[420:1] _Scots Mag._, 1807, p. 248.\n\n[420:2] In Mackenzie's Account of Home.\n\n[421:1] Blair, writing on 11th March, says,--\n\n\"I long exceedingly to hear of the success of 'The Fatal Discovery,' and\nam much pleased with what I have already heard. I read it a twelvemonth\nago, and thought highly of it. I will not pronounce it quite equal to\n'Douglas,' but inferior only to it. Mr. Garrick told me, when last in\nLondon, that he approved highly of it, and sent a message to the author\nby me, advising him to take measures for bringing it on. I am infinitely\ndiverted with the trick which our friend has played to John concerning\nit. How foolish will he look when he finds how he has been imposed on. I\nbeseech you write me how it goes on with the public.\"\n\n[421:2] Dr. Robertson, of whom Blair says in the letter above cited:\n\n\"What an excellent performance has Robertson given us. What a treasure\nof curious and instructive historical information! I think it much\nsuperior to his former work. He is a little deaf at present, which I\nhave told him is a thorn in the flesh wisely sent him, that he may not\nbe too much lifted up with hearing the voice of applause. Your History\nof England, and his as an introduction to the History of Europe, form a\nperfect historical library. I congratulate myself on living in an age,\nwhen our own country and our friends have done such honour to\nliterature. For myself I continue piddling still about my Lectures.\"\n\n[422:1] Not very. The lines he intended to cite are:\n\n     Cum positis novus exuviis, nitidusque juvent\u00e2\n     Volvitur, aut catulos tectis aut ova relinquens\n     Arduus ad solem, et linguis micat ore trisulcis.\n\n[423:1] It is possible that the words \"that fellow,\" apply to Wilkes,\nbut the context makes it more likely that they are intended for Chatham.\n\n[423:2] The decision was given on 27th February, 1769.\n\n[423:3] Apparently Robert Blair, afterwards Lord President of the Court\nof Session. Dr. Blair, in his letter of introduction, says:--\n\n\"He is one of the most accomplished and most promising young men who,\nfor some time, have appeared at the bar; and will certainly go very high\nin his profession. His reputation, in that line, is already far\nadvanced; and he has, besides this, many great virtues, both as a man\nand a scholar. As he is my near relation, he has been, all along, my\npupil; and I have great credit in him.\"\n\n[424:1] The line of houses, near the castle of Edinburgh, called Ramsay\nGardens. His friend, Mrs. Cockburn, strongly dissuaded him from living\nin this part of the town.\n\n[424:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[426:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[428:1] _New Monthly Magazine_, original series, No. 72.\n\n[429:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[429:2] The Firth of Forth.\n\n[430:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 691. Collated with original MS.\nR.S.E.\n\n[432:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[432:2] Minto MSS.\n\n[433:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[435:1] Minto MSS.\n\n[436:1] When the house was built, and inhabited by Hume, but while yet\nthe street, of which it was the commencement, had no name, a witty young\nlady, daughter of Baron Ord, chalked on the wall, the words \"ST. DAVID\nSTREET.\" The allusion was very obvious. Hume's \"lass,\" judging that it\nwas not meant in honour or reverence, ran into the house much excited,\nto tell her master how he was made game of. \"Never mind, lassie,\" he\nsaid; \"many a better man has been made a saint of before.\"\n\n[436:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n1771-1776. \u00c6t. 60-65.\n\n     Hume's social character--His conversation--His disposition--\n     Traditional anecdotes regarding him--Correspondence--Letter\n     about the Pretender--Gilbert Stuart's quarrel with Dr. Henry--\n     Commercial State of Scotland--Letter to his nephew on\n     Republicanism--Smith's \"Wealth of Nations\"--Hume's illness--\n     His Will--Smith appointed Literary Executor--Strahan\n     substituted--His journey to England with Home--Prospects of\n     Death--Communications with his Friends and Relations--His\n     Death--General view of his influence on Thought and Action.\n\n\nIt is to the period from the year 1770 to his death, when he lived among\nhis early friends in Edinburgh, that we ought to refer such traditional\naccounts of Hume's private life and social habits, as are not expressly\nconnected with any known event in his history. He was, it is true, a\ndistinguished man when he left his native city, in 1763. He had then,\nindeed, performed all the services which entitled him to immortality.\nBut his foreign celebrity, and his official honours, had since added\nmany ostensible glories to his name, and introduced him to a wider\nsphere of public notice than the substantial fruits of his genius and\nindustry would have of themselves secured. When we remember that this\nwas the most celebrated period of his life, and was the only one of\nwhich persons who are still, or who have lately been alive, could have\nany recollection, we naturally refer to it those traditional notices and\nincidents which have no distinct place.\n\nThe impression of Hume's character, acquired by one who has sought it in\nthe tenor of his works, and the history of his literary career, is quite\ndifferent from that which we derive from those who knew him, and were\nconnected with the social circle in which he lived. The former is\nsolitary, self-relying, and unimpressible even to sternness; the latter\nis good, easy, simple, social, and amenable to the sway of gentle\nimpulses. These two representations are not without a harmony of\nprinciple. In all serious matters, in his projects of literary ambition,\nin the philosophy he taught mankind, in all that was to connect him with\nposterity and the intellectual destiny of the human race, he was\nresolute and uncompromising. But the exhibition of his strength was\nreserved for the arena of his triumphs; and in domestic and social\nintercourse he put aside his helmet, with its nodding plumes; feeling,\nthat the intellectual exhibitions suited for _that_ sphere, should\nspring from whatever Nature had bestowed on him of sweet, and peaceful,\nand kind,--whatever was fitted to drive rancour or angry emulation from\nthe bosom, and to render life delightful. Hence, to appear in the social\ncircle as an intellectual gladiator, does not appear to have been his\nwish; he was content if he gave himself and others pleasure.\n\nThis view of his character is confirmed by Mackenzie, who, when a young\nman, enjoyed the high distinction of mingling in that group, of which he\nwas the principal figure.\n\n     But the most illustrious of that circle was David Hume, who\n     had a sincere affection for his poetical namesake,--an\n     affection which was never abated during the life of that\n     celebrated man. The unfortunate nature of his opinions with\n     regard to the theoretical principles of moral and religious\n     truth, never influenced his regard for men who held very\n     opposite sentiments on those subjects; subjects which he\n     never, like some vain and shallow sceptics, introduced into\n     social discourse: On the contrary, when at any time the\n     conversation tended that way, he was desirous rather of\n     avoiding any serious discussion on matters which he wished to\n     confine to the graver and less dangerous consideration of\n     cool philosophy. He had, it might be said, in the language\n     which the Grecian historian applies to an illustrious Roman,\n     two minds; one which indulged in the metaphysical scepticism\n     which his genius could invent, but which it could not always\n     disentangle; another, simple, natural, and playful, which made\n     his conversation delightful to his friends, and even\n     frequently conciliated men whose principles of belief his\n     philosophical doubts, if they had not power to shake, had\n     grieved and offended. During the latter period of his life, I\n     was frequently in his company amidst persons of genuine piety,\n     and I never heard him venture a remark at which such men, or\n     ladies, still more susceptible than men, could take\n     offence.[439:1]\n\nThe late Lord Chief Commissioner Adam was another of the young men who\nwere so fortunate as to be admitted to this circle. In a curious little\ncollection of notices of eminent persons, called \"The Gift of a\nGrandfather,\" privately printed at his own press at Blair-Adam, he says\nof Hume:\n\n     He was an intimate friend and acquaintance: and in all the\n     intercourse of life, and in all he said, and wrote, and did,\n     when not employed in his unnecessary metaphysical scepticism\n     (well named, by a friend of mine, intellectual rope-dancing,)\n     was innocent, playful, and moral, and most natural in his\n     conversation: equally pleasing and instructive to the young\n     and old of both sexes. . . . . . . . . .\n\n     His simple unaffected nature, and kindly disposition, exalted\n     him as much as the singular powers of his mind, and his\n     talents for expressing in writing what he contemplated--so\n     well described by Gibbon, as careless inimitable beauties of\n     style; which, when he read, he laid down the book in despair\n     that he should ever be able to imitate them.\n\n     I have before shown that he never introduced, in conversation,\n     his abstruse or sceptical speculations; that all his\n     sentiments were moral and natural and pleasing, and even\n     playful in the extreme. This is evinced by his letters, which\n     are perfect in their kind. He could bring himself down,\n     without effort, to the most familiar playfulness with young\n     persons, and particularly delighted in the conversation of\n     youthful females.\n\n     Mr. Hume was one of our constant visiters, making, as was the\n     custom of those days, tea-time the hour of calling. In the\n     summer he would often stroll to my father's beautiful villa of\n     North Merchiston. On one occasion--I was then a boy of\n     thirteen--he, missing my mother, made his tea-drinking good\n     with two or three young ladies of eighteen or nineteen, (his\n     acquaintances,) who were my mother's guests. I recollect\n     perfectly how agreeably he talked to them; and my recollection\n     has been rendered permanent by an occurrence which caused some\n     mirth and no mischief.\n\n     When the philosopher was amusing himself in conversation with\n     the young ladies, the chair began to give way under him, and\n     gradually brought him to the floor.\n\n     The damsels were both alarmed and amused, when Mr. Hume,\n     recovering himself, and getting upon his legs, said in his\n     broad Scotch tone, but in English words, (for he never used\n     Scotch,) \"Young ladies, you must tell Mr. Adam to keep\n     stronger chairs for heavy philosophers.\"\n\n     This simple story is a good specimen of the man. He was above\n     all affectation. I was a companion of his eldest nephew, and\n     saw much of him when I was very young. As I grew up he used to\n     invite me to dinner, and I took great delight in his\n     conversation. I continued in and about Edinburgh long enough\n     to be able to relish it, and perhaps to join in it. On one\n     particular occasion I met him at tea at Professor Ferguson's;\n     it was at the period of my attending Dr. Blair's class on\n     rhetoric and belles lettres: their conversation became very\n     interesting to me, as it bore upon subjects which had an\n     affinity to what I was in the habit of hearing prelected upon.\n     They discussed particularly the Henriade of Voltaire; they\n     were not displeased with any want of brilliancy in the\n     versification, but they condemned the choice of the subject.\n     Mr. Hume said, \"He should never choose for an epic poem\n     history, the truth of which is well known; for no fiction can\n     come up to the interest of the actual story and incidents of\n     the singular life of Henry IV.;\" and Professor Ferguson added,\n     \"What epic poet could improve upon the chivalrous life of\n     Chevalier Bayard, or on the event of his extraordinary\n     romantic death?\"\n\n\"I always lived,\" says James Boswell, in a passage where he has to\nrecord some of his great patron's expressions of contempt and dislike,\n\"on good terms with Mr. Hume, though I have frankly told him I was not\nclear that it was right of me to keep company with him; 'but,' said I,\n'how much better are you than your books!' He was cheerful, obliging,\nand instructive. He was charitable to the poor;[441:1] and many an\nagreeable hour have I passed with him.\"\n\nThe testimony which Adam Smith bore to his character and disposition, in\nthe letter which accompanies his autobiography, though so well known,\nmust not here be omitted.\n\n     His temper seemed to be more happily balanced, if I may be\n     allowed such an expression, than that perhaps of any other man\n     I have ever known. Even in the lowest state of his fortune,\n     his great and necessary frugality never hindered him from\n     exercising, upon proper occasions, acts both of charity and\n     generosity. It was a frugality founded, not upon avarice, but\n     upon the love of independency. The extreme gentleness of his\n     nature never weakened either the firmness of his mind, or the\n     steadiness of his resolutions. His constant pleasantry was the\n     genuine effusion of good nature and good humour; tempered with\n     delicacy and modesty, and without even the slightest tincture\n     of malignity, so frequently the disagreeable source of what is\n     called wit in other men. It never was the meaning of his\n     raillery to mortify; and, therefore, far from offending, it\n     seldom failed to please and delight, even those who were the\n     objects of it. To his friends, who were frequently the objects\n     of it, there was not, perhaps, any one of all his great and\n     amiable qualities which contributed more to endear his\n     conversation. And that gaiety of temper, so agreeable in\n     society, but which is so often accompanied with frivolous and\n     superficial qualities, was, in him, certainly attended with\n     the most severe application, the most extensive learning, the\n     greatest depth of thought, and a capacity in every respect the\n     most comprehensive. Upon the whole, I have always considered\n     him, both in his lifetime, and since his death, as approaching\n     as nearly to the idea of a perfectly wise and virtuous man,\n     as, perhaps, the nature of human frailty will permit.\n\nOf any description of his character, his own account of it must form a\nmaterial feature. The mere circumstance that a man should have thus\nwritten about himself, is a noticeable element in his mental history. He\nsays, in his \"own life:\"\n\n     To conclude, historically, with my own character. I am, or\n     rather was, (for that is the style I must now use in speaking\n     of myself, which emboldens me the more to speak my\n     sentiments,)--I was, I say, a man of mild disposition, of\n     command of temper, of an open, social, and cheerful humour,\n     capable of attachment, but little susceptible of enmity, and\n     of great moderation in all my passions. Even my love of\n     literary fame, my ruling passion, never soured my temper,\n     notwithstanding my frequent disappointments. My company was\n     not unacceptable to the young and careless, as well as to the\n     studious and literary; and as I took a particular pleasure in\n     the company of modest women, I had no reason to be displeased\n     with the reception I met with from them. In a word, though\n     most men, any wise eminent, have found reason to complain of\n     calumny, I never was touched, or even attacked by her baleful\n     tooth: and though I wantonly exposed myself to the rage of\n     both civil and religious factions, they seemed to be disarmed,\n     in my behalf, of their wonted fury. My friends never had\n     occasion to vindicate any one circumstance of my character and\n     conduct: not but that the zealots, we may well suppose, would\n     have been glad to invent and propagate any story to my\n     disadvantage, but they could never find any which they thought\n     would wear the face of probability. I cannot say there is no\n     vanity in making this funeral oration of myself, but I hope\n     it is not a misplaced one; and this is a matter of fact which\n     is easily cleared and ascertained.\n\nWe have here a generous testimony to the tolerant spirit of his age: And\nyet his history and correspondence show, that he did not always feel\nhimself safe from the influence of political or polemical resentment. He\nseemed, however, to take a pride in contrasting his own personal\nreception, by the world, with that of his writings; the one being all\ncourtesy, the other all prejudice and dislike. A late eminent judge\nremembered meeting him at dinner with Black, Smith, and others, a few\nmonths before his death. Smith was speaking of the ingratitude,\nperversity, and intolerance of human nature. Hume said he differed with\nhim. There was he, who had written on history, on politics, and on\nmorals--some said on divinity; yet, in discussing these exciting topics,\nhe had not made a single enemy; unless, indeed, all the Whigs, and all\nthe Tories, and all the Christians! As, in his playful conversation\namong his intimate friends, he was inclined to indulge in practical\nhumour, he made the general unpopularity of his opinions a common theme\nof amusement; picturesquely exaggerating the more offensive features,\nand exhibiting them as bugbears to frighten the well-meaning. Asking his\nfriend, Clephane, to look for lodgings for him in London, he represents\nthe person who is to inhabit them as \"a sober, discreet, virtuous,\nfrugal, regular, quiet, good-natured man--of a bad character.\" This \"bad\ncharacter,\" he seems to have occasionally used as a method of gently\nalarming innocent females. A lady, of strictly evangelical principles,\nwalking home from church, through a crowded part of Edinburgh, was\nrather surprised by the zealous attention with which he proffered his\narm. After they had passed through the crowd, he gave his reason for\nbeing so obsequious--it was, that she might be congratulated, by her\nfriends, on having been seen walking on Sunday with \"Hume the Deist.\"\nMackenzie relates the following incident, which shows that he was not,\nhowever, always proof against the effect of jocular attacks on his\nprinciples by others.\n\n     In the same _bonhommie_, Mr. Hume bore with perfect good\n     nature the pleasantries which humorous deductions from his\n     theoretical scepticisms sometimes produced. Once, I have been\n     told, he was in a small degree ruffled by a witticism of Mr.\n     John Home's, who, though always pleasant, and often lively,\n     seldom produced what might be termed or repeated as wit. The\n     clerk of an eminent banker in Edinburgh, a young man of\n     irreproachable conduct, and much in the confidence of his\n     master, eloped with a considerable sum with which he had been\n     intrusted. The circumstance was mentioned at a dinner where\n     the two Humes, the historian and the poet, and several of\n     their usual friendly circle, were present. David Hume spoke of\n     it as a kind of moral problem, and wondered what could induce\n     a man of such character and habits as this clerk was said to\n     possess, thus to incur, for an inconsiderable sum, the guilt\n     and the infamy of such a transaction. \"I can easily account\n     for it,\" said his friend, John Home, \"from the nature of his\n     studies, and the kind of books which he was in the habit of\n     reading.\" \"What were they?\" said the philosopher. \"Boston's\n     Fourfold State,\" rejoined the poet, \"and Hume's Essays.\" David\n     was more hurt by the joke than was usual with him; probably\n     from the singular conjunction of the two works, which formed,\n     according to his friend's account, the library of the\n     unfortunate young man.[444:1]\n\nAs appropriate to his popularity among women and young people, the\nfollowing anecdotes from the pen of one who has gained no little\ncelebrity by her genius, cannot fail to give interest. They are\ncontained in a letter by Lady Anne Lindsay, authoress of the song _Auld\nRobin Gray_, when she was a young lady living in her grandmother's house\nin Edinburgh, to her sister Margaret:--\n\n     Dinners go on as usual, which, being monopolized by the\n     divines, wits, and writers of the present day, are not\n     unjustly called the Dinners of the Eaterati, by Lord Kellie,\n     who laughs at his own pun till his face is purple.\n\n     Our friend, David Hume, along with his friend, Principal\n     Robertson, continue to maintain their ground at these\n     convivial meetings. To see the lion and the lamb lying down\n     together, the deist and the doctor, is extraordinary; it makes\n     one hope that some day Hume will say to him, \"Thou almost\n     persuadest me to be a Christian.\" He is a constant morning\n     visiter of ours. My mother jested him lately on a circumstance\n     which had a good deal of character in it.\n\n     When we were very young girls, too young to remember the\n     scene, there happened to be a good many clever people at\n     Balcarres at Christmas; and as a gambol of the season, they\n     agreed to write each his own character, to give them to Hume,\n     and make him show them to my father, as extracts he had taken\n     from the pope's library at Rome.[445:1]\n\n     He did. My father said, \"I don't know who the rest of your\n     fine fellows and charming princesses are, Hume; but if you had\n     not told me where you got _this_ character, I should have said\n     it was that of my wife.\"\n\n     \"I was pleased,\" said my mother, \"with my lord's answer, it\n     showed that at least I had been an honest woman.\"\n\n     \"Hume's character of himself,\" said she, \"was well drawn and\n     full of candour; he spoke of himself as he ought;\" but added,\n     what surprised us all, that, \"plain as his manners were, and\n     apparently careless of attention, vanity was his predominant\n     weakness. That vanity led him to publish his Essays, which he\n     grieved over; not that he had changed his opinions, but that\n     he thought he had injured society by disseminating them.\"\n\n     \"Do you remember the sequel of that affair?\" said Hume.\n\n     \"Yes, I do,\" replied my mother, laughing: \"you told me that,\n     although I thought your character a sincere one, it was not\n     so; there was a particular feature omitted that we were still\n     ignorant of, and that you would add it; like a fool I gave you\n     the manuscript, and you thrust it into the fire, adding, 'Oh,\n     what an idiot I had nearly proved myself to be, to leave such\n     a document in the hands of a parcel of women!'\"\n\n     \"Villain!\" said my mother, laughing, and shaking her head at\n     him.\n\n     \"Do you remember all this, my little woman?\" said Hume to me.\n\n     \"I was too young,\" said I, \"to think of it at the time.\"\n\n     \"How's this? have not you and I grown up together?\"\n\n     I looked surprised.\n\n     \"Yes,\" added he, \"you have grown tall, and I have grown\n     broad.\"[446:1]\n\nIt may give us some farther idea of the refined simplicity that made his\nconversation agreeable to intellectual and right thinking women, to\nobserve the manner in which he was addressed in the following very\nlively letter from Lady Elliot Murray, the wife of his friend, Sir\nGilbert.\n\n     _Minto, 12th October, 1772._\n\n     I am resolved to take the reins of government into my own\n     hands. I don't know what has made me such a humble subservient\n     animal hitherto. I will dictate from this time forth. I will\n     give the law, and insist on an implicit obedience to my\n     superior wisdom; for am I not wiser than the wisest? did I not\n     foretell what has come to pass, that Mons. De Guigne would not\n     reach Edinburgh before the middle of this week? and did I not\n     prove my judgment surpassing that best of historians, who is a\n     mere pedler in understanding to me? Had he taken my advice, he\n     need not have jumbled himself seventy long miles over\n     mountains and plains in one day, and left a family who were\n     happy in his company, and exchanged the cheering blaze of a\n     good coal fire, for the dreary glimpses of a clouded moon.\n     But, however, he had the pleasure of gratifying a sense which\n     few people are much troubled with, a delicacy and ardour in\n     politeness; and as that is pretty near akin to benevolence, I\n     believe the indulgence of it may be a full recompense for the\n     trouble. But that last principle will lead you back the road\n     you went; for you left three ladies mourning for your\n     departure, and the good man of the house has been in a\n     vexation ever since, and can only be contented by a renewal of\n     your kind intentions towards us, of passing some quiet days\n     under our roof. Sir Gilbert came home from Jedburgh, and had\n     seen your brother there, who told him he would find you here\n     when he came back.\n\n     Enter Sir Gilbert. Where is Mr. Hume?--Answer: He is gone.\n     When did he come?--About one o'clock. And when did he go\n     away?--About five. What! have you quarrelled?--Yes. He and I\n     had some little difference about his _byeuks_, and I tried to\n     persuade him to burn them all, and write the other way; for,\n     as I said, I was sure he would be a shining light, and equal\n     the author of the \"Pilgrim's Progress,\" or Mr. Ebenezer\n     Erskine, if he would only take the right side; and he flew in\n     a passion and went away in a huff! How could you think he\n     would be persuaded by you? Pooh! though I am but a simple\n     woman, before it be long he may be convinced I can see farther\n     into a millstone than he can do; and if he had taken my\n     advice, he might have rested his bones here this night in\n     quiet, in place of rumbling along in the dark in a post\n     chaise; and so in other matters too, I might perhaps do him a\n     service if he would be ruled by me. My dear, how can you be so\n     wild? And, my dear, where is the harm in telling one's mind,\n     when you think you can do good by it, to a good worthy\n     creature that is only a little mistaken or so? Good by it,\n     what a chimera! but come, there is some other reason than this\n     for his going away? None that I know; except a fine flim-flam\n     letter that he received from the French Ambassador, saying, he\n     expected to have the exquisite joy of beholding him at\n     Edinburgh to-morrow. Ah, now I understand it. But when does he\n     come back? Why he either comes back with Mons. De Guigne, or\n     after he has done the last duties to him at Edinburgh. So you\n     see, if you do not come, you will have brought me in for the\n     lesser excommunication; for you will have been the cause of my\n     deceiving my husband, and telling him a lie: although, for\n     that matter, neither you nor I _lukelly_ have any thing to\n     fear now-a-days, for either the greater or lesser\n     excommunication: For, as you justly observe, line 12, first\n     page of your letter, how are things changed! Old prejudices\n     are done away, but behold new ones arise; and the last errors\n     I am afraid are worse than the first: but, for my own part, I\n     would willingly have stood before the kirk-session, to have\n     shown any respect and regard to Mons{r.} L'Ambassador, who is\n     a man we all esteem in this house, and from whom we have\n     always received every possible civility, of which we retain a\n     grateful sense. But we perceive he is travelling in his public\n     capacity, and unless Sir Gilbert had had it in his power to go\n     to town to wait of him, and give him welcome from us to our\n     house, should it suit his conveniency to rest here upon his\n     road to England, we think any other invitation would appear\n     improper and abrupt; and as it so happens he cannot possibly\n     accomplish this at present, for we are to have company with us\n     most part of this week; and after that we go to our visits,\n     which will take us most of next week; and then we shall be\n     chez nous till our journey southwards, when we will require\n     from you to restore us your good society, else we shall verily\n     believe your flying visit was all a hum, and we won't be\n     _Humed_ so!\n\n     Bless me, I thought I was writing to my poor good Harry. How\n     does he do, sanctified soul? I have really hopes of you, now\n     that he and you are come hand to fist at a conversation; as he\n     tells me you are very often with him, and he really thinks you\n     are a saint in your nature; and I say that is a great pity,\n     for tho' I cannot deny the fact, I deplore it for the\n     consequences of it; but give my best wishes to him, and tell\n     him I long to hear of better prospects for him. I am really\n     confounded, when I think what a parcel of nonsense I have\n     wrote you: But learn to prefer the truth and sincerity of a\n     Scots wife, to the pernicious flattery of Les Dames\n     Fran\u00e7aises, of which you have had enough in your days; and so\n     it is fit you should be made to hear on the other side of the\n     head. And so wishing you all health and happiness, and\n     clearness of understanding, I remain, sir, your well wisher,\n     friend, and obedient servant,\n\n                                          AG. ELLIOT MURRAY.\n\n     P.S. I don't think the quiet Euthanasia of England will happen\n     in the year 1773, the mayoralty of J. W. Esq.\n\nHume had been for many years very corpulent. In a letter to Sir Harry\nErskine, in 1756, he complains of this tendency to obesity. He\noccasionally alludes to his partiality for plain food, and to his being,\nto use his own sufficiently distinct expression, \"a glutton, not an\nepicure.\"[449:1] We have found him telling Sir Gilbert Elliot, that for\nbeef and cabbage, which he calls \"a charming dish,\" and old mutton, no\none could excel him; and that the Duc de Nivernois would become\napprentice to his \"lass,\" to learn how she made sheeps'-head broth. The\nzest with which he returned to the simple food of his native country,\nafter the diplomatic feasts of Paris, seems to have been characteristic\nof all his habits. Burke is said to have affirmed, that, \"in manners he\nwas an easy unaffected man, previous to going to Paris as secretary to\nLord Hertford; but that the adulation and caresses of the female wits of\nthat capital had been too powerful even for a philosopher, and the\nresult was, he returned a literary coxcomb.\" But the saying is not in\nharmony with the characteristics noted by others; and it is not quite\nclear that it was ever uttered by Burke.[450:1] All who speak as having\nbeen familiarly acquainted with him, concur in describing his manners as\nkind, simple, and polite. He had, as no one who has read his\ncorrespondence can fail to see, a good heart, ever ready to do\nbenevolent acts where occasions for their performance came under his\nnotice; and his exterior appearance and manner corresponded with this\npart of his character. One occasionally meets with venerable persons who\nremember having been dandled on Hume's knee, and the number of these\nreminiscences indicates that he was fond of children.[450:2]\n\nThe broad Scottish pronunciation, in which, by all accounts, he\nindulged, was a rather singular habit in one who desired to throw off\nall marks of provincialism. Yet we are told that in this rude Doric garb\nhe clothed a very pure English colloquial style. We must take this\nstatement with allowances: He never probably in his most finished\nwritings completely divested his style of Scotticisms; and the English\nhe spoke must have been pure only in comparison with the language of his\nfellow countrymen. But it may be remarked, that provincial broadness of\npronunciation in Scotland is far from being incompatible with a very\npure and unprovincial style of language. It has often been observed,\nthat in those parts of the country where the speech of the uneducated is\nmost peculiar, English, when spoken at all, is found in greatest\npurity. Thus, an inhabitant of the border districts makes his southern\ntones, though hardly distinguishable from those of his English\nneighbours, the vehicle of intense Scotticisms; while beyond the\nGrampians, the deep broad Teutonic pronunciation sometimes gives voice\nto uncontaminated English, as established by literary and colloquial\nrules.\n\nHume had very clearly two kinds of conversation, one for strangers and\nthe world at large, the other for his chosen friends with whom he was at\nease, and who could understand the good humour of that jocularity which\na contemporary pronounced to have something in it perfectly infantine.\nHis friend John Home was somewhat renowned for a warlike and romantic\npomp in his ideas, like those which pervade his own tragic personations.\nIn Hume's conversation we may believe that there was nothing either\nheroic or enthusiastic. A good humoured sly application of the fugitive\nsubjects of discussion, to the peculiarities of the guests; an\noccasional vigorous and apt remark; a fantastic wit sometimes let loose\nto wander where it pleased, and choose whatever it thought fit for its\nobject,--seem to have constituted the charm of his society. Yet the tone\nof his thoughts sometimes rose to enthusiasm. Thus the son of his valued\nfriend Ferguson, remembers his father saying, that, one clear and\nbeautiful night, when they were walking home together, Hume suddenly\nstopped, looked up to the starry sky, and said, more after the manner of\n\"Hervey's Meditations\" than the \"Treatise of Human Nature,\" \"Oh, Adam,\ncan any one contemplate the wonders of that firmament, and not believe\nthat there is a God!\"\n\nIn a late collection of casual reminiscences, there is the following\nnotice of his social habits.\n\n\"Major M----, with whom I dined yesterday, said that he had frequently\nmet David Hume at their military mess in Scotland, and in other parties;\nthat he was very polite and pleasant, though thoughtful in company,\ngenerally reclining his head upon his hand, as if in study; from which\nhe would suddenly recover, however, with some indifferent\nquestion;[452:1] extremely inquisitive, but quite easy to himself and\nall around him. One is glad to catch personal notices, however slight,\nof memorable men and of speculative philosophers. I know no one so\nmemorable as Hume. He seems to have so far outstripped the spirit of the\ntimes in his original and profound researches, that the world is in no\ncondition at present to do justice to his merits.\"[452:2]\n\nThose who know him solely by his philosophical reputation, will perhaps\nbelieve him to have been\n\n     Parcus deorum cultor et infrequens.\n\nBut this does not seem to have been the case, at least in his outward\nconduct. We find him, in writing home from France, casually mentioning\nhis not having seen Elliot's sons \"in church;\" and on another occasion\nmaking a like allusion, indicative of his having been a pretty regular\nattendant at the ambassador's chapel. He is said to have been fond of\nDr. Robertson's preaching, and not averse to that of his colleague and\nopponent, John Erskine. A lady, distinguished in literature, remembers\nthat in a conversation with a respectable tradesman's wife, who had been\na servant to Hume, she said that her master one day asked her very\nseriously, why she was never seen in church, where he had provided seats\nfor all his household. At that time there were very few of the humbler\nclasses in Edinburgh, who did not belong to the Church of Scotland. The\nwoman's defence was, that she belonged to a dissenting congregation; and\nit was admitted to be quite satisfactory.\n\nSocial in his habits, and living the life of a wealthy bachelor, it was\nnatural that Hume should connect himself with the societies, whether of\na literary or convivial character, which brought the good company of\nEdinburgh together. He appears to have been a pretty active member of\nthe Philosophical Society. In a letter, of which part has already been\nprinted, and which would probably in strict chronological order belong\nto an earlier period, we find him with mild dignity enforcing the\ntolerance and philosophical equanimity, that ought to reign wherever men\nof different sentiments meet each other in intellectual discussion.\n\n\n\"_Tuesday Forenoon._\n\n\"SIR,--I am so great a lover of peace, that I am resolved to drop this\nmatter altogether, and not to insert a syllable in the Preface, which\ncan have a reference to your Essay. The truth is, I could take no\nrevenge but such a one as would have been a great deal too cruel, and\nmuch exceeding the offence: for, though most authors think, that a\ncontemptuous manner of treating their writings is but slightly revenged\nby hurting the personal character and the honour of their antagonists, I\nam very far from that opinion. Besides, I am as certain as I can be of\nany thing, (and I am not such a sceptic as you may perhaps imagine,)\nthat your inserting such remarkable alterations in the printed copy,\nproceeded entirely from precipitancy and passion, not from any formed\nintention of deceiving the Society. I would not take advantage of such\nan incident to throw a slur on a man of merit, whom I esteem, though I\nmight have reason to complain of him.\n\n\"When I am abused by such a fellow as Warburton, whom I neither know nor\ncare for, I can laugh at him. But if Dr. Stewart approaches any way\ntowards the same style of writing, I own it vexes me; because I\nconclude, that some unguarded circumstance of my conduct, though\ncontrary to my intention, had given occasion to it.\n\n\"As to your situation with regard to Lord Kames, I am not so good a\njudge. I only think that you had so much the better of the argument,\nthat you ought, upon that account, to have been more reserved in your\nexpressions. All raillery ought to be avoided in philosophical argument,\nboth because it is unphilosophical, and because it cannot but be\noffensive, let it be ever so gentle. What, then, must we think with\nregard to so many insinuations of irreligion, to which Lord Kames's\npaper gave not the least occasion? This spirit of the inquisitor is, in\nyou, the effect of passion, and what a _cool_ moment would easily\ncorrect. But where it predominates in the character, what ravages has it\ncommitted on reason, virtue, truth, liberty, and every thing that is\nvaluable among mankind! I shall now speak a word as to the justness of\nyour censure with regard to myself after these remarks on the manner of\nit. I have no scruple of confessing my mistakes. You see I have owned\nthat I think Lord Kames is mistaken in his argument; and I would sooner\ngive up my _own_ cause than my _friend's_, if I thought that imputation\nof any consequence to a man's character. . . . .[455:1]\n\n\"As I am resolved to drop this matter entirely from the Preface, so I\nhope to persuade Lord Kames to be entirely silent with regard to it in\nour meeting. But in case I should not prevail, or if any body else start\nthe subject, I think it better that some of your friends should be\nthere, and be prepared to mollify the matter. If I durst pretend to\nadvise, I should think it better you yourself were absent, unless you\nbring a greater spirit of composition than you express in your letter. I\nam persuaded that whatever a person of Mr. Monro's authority proposes\nwill be agreed to: though I must beg leave to differ from his judgment\nin proposing to alter two pages. That chiefly removes the offence given\nto me; but what regards Lord Kames is so interwoven with the whole\ndiscourse, that there is not now any possibility of altering it. I am,\nsir, your most obedient humble servant,\" &c.\n\n\"P. S.--I hope you are very zealous in promoting the sale of Blacklock's\nPoems. I will never be reconciled to you unless you dispose of at least\na score of them; and make your friends Sir John Maxwell and Lord Buchan\npay a guinea a piece for their copy.\"[455:2]\n\n\nThe Poker Club, occasionally mentioned in these pages, seems to have\nhad no other direct and specific object but the consumption of claret.\nThe duty laid on that national wine, by \"the English statesman,\" so\npathetically commemorated by John Home, was a heavy blow and great\ndiscouragement to the club; but it rallied, and returned to its old\nesteemed beverage; and, indeed, it is a somewhat curious circumstance,\nthat the national taste, created by the early intercourse with France\nand the consequent cheapness of French wines, still lingers in Scotland,\nwhere claret is much more generally consumed than in England. The club\nmet in Fortune's tavern every Friday. It was the practice, at each\nmeeting, to name two to be, what were called, \"attendant members;\" an\narrangement, probably, designed to form a nucleus round which those\nwhose attendance was uncertain, but who might drop in occasionally in\nthe course of the evening, could form themselves; and to prevent any\ngeneral desertion of the club, or, what might be, perhaps, more\ncalamitous, the accident of any individual finding himself, for the\nnight, its sole and solitary representative. We find Hume duly taking\nhis turn in these attendances, and keeping the minutes according to\nrotation. On the 20th January, 1775, there is this emphatic entry, in\nhis handwriting, \"As Mr. Nairne was one of the attendant members, and\nneglected his duty, the club sent him the bill.\" The last meeting of\nthe club, attended by Hume, appears to have been that of 8th December,\n1775.[457:1]\n\nIt does not appear to be necessary that traditional anecdotes, such as\nthe few we possess of Hume, must either be authenticated, or excluded\nfrom such a work as the present. It seems to entitle them to a place,\nthat they were current among those who knew his character and habits.\nThey thus afford all that is expected from such sources--passing fancy\nsketches, recognised as likenesses. Like several others that have\nappeared in these pages, as mere traditions, the following anecdote,\nwhich is eminently natural and curious, has no farther authentication\nthan the general belief, in Edinburgh, that it \"was like the man.\"\n\nAbout the commencement of his last illness, a female member of the\nrespectable Berean congregation, in Leith, presented herself at his\ndoor, with the information that she had been intrusted with a message to\nhim from on High; and, becoming very urgent, succeeded in obtaining\nadmission. \"This is a very important matter, madam,\" said the\nphilosopher, \"we must take it with deliberation;--perhaps you had better\nget a little temporal refreshment before you begin. 'Lassie, bring this\ngood lady a glass of wine.'\" While she was preparing for the attack,\nHume entered, good-humouredly, into conversation with her; and,\ndiscovering that her husband was a chandler, announced that he stood\nvery much in want, at that time, of some temporal lights, and intrusted\nhis guest with a very large order. This unexpected stroke of business at\nonce absorbed all the good woman's thoughts; and, forgetting her\nimportant mission, she immediately trotted home to acquaint her husband\nwith the good news.\n\nThere is an anecdote, which has appeared in numerous collections of such\nliterary scraps, which represents him as having slipped into the boggy\nground at the base of the castle rock, and called to a woman to help him\nout. In his unwieldy and infirm state, during his latter years, the\naccident is not improbable. The anecdote proceeds to say, that the\nfemale called on had great doubts of the propriety of helping \"Hume, the\nDeist,\" out of that slough of despond into which it had pleased\nProvidence to cast him. \"But, my good woman, does not your religion as a\nChristian, teach you to do good, even to your enemies?\" \"That may be,\"\nsaid she, \"but ye shallna get out o' that, till ye become a Christian\nyersell: and repeat the Lord's Prayer and the Belief,\" a feat which is\nsaid to have been very rapidly performed, much to the worthy catechist's\nastonishment.\n\nSome of his witticisms have a tone of sarcastic severity, which he does\nnot appear to have been disposed to suppress, even when women were the\nvictims, if it was called forth by affectation or folly. To a celebrated\n\"fine woman\" of his day, who said she was often pestered to tell her\nage, and desired his opinion what answer she should give: he is reported\nto have said, \"Madam, say you are not yet come to years of discretion.\"\nTo the same lady, who, when crossing one of the ferries of the Firth of\nForth, during a fresh breeze, was making a loud outcry about danger, he\nremarked, with much coolness, that they would probably soon be food for\nfishes; \"and who,\" said the frightened belle, probably a little confused\nby the horrors of their position, \"who will they begin with?\" The answer\nshe received was, \"Why, madam, those of them that are gluttons will\nbegin with me; those that are epicures with your ladyship.\"\n\nWe now resume Hume's correspondence. The letters of the last five years\nof his life, which have been preserved, are comparatively few; a\ncircumstance which may be accounted for from his living, during that\nperiod, among his correspondents. On 28th January, 1772, he writes to\nSmith, that he would be glad to receive a visit from him; but that his\nhouse would be rather dull, from his sister having fever. In\ncontinuation he says:--\n\n\n\"I shall not take an excuse from your own state of health; which I\nsuppose only a subterfuge invented by indolence and love of solitude.\nIndeed, my dear Smith, if you continue to hearken to complaints of this\nnature, you will cut yourself out entirely from human society, to the\ngreat loss of both parties.\n\n\"P.S.--I have not yet read 'Orlando Inamorato;' but intend soon to do\nit. I am now in a course of reading the 'Italian Historians,' and am\nconfirmed in my former opinion, that that language has not produced one\nauthor who knew how to write elegant correct prose, though it contains\nseveral excellent poets.\"[459:1]\n\n\nIn the following letters, we find several details about that remarkable\nrevulsion in the state of trade in Scotland, which, at the present day,\nis chiefly known by the quantity of decisions on points of bankruptcy\nlaw, with which it filled the Reports.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH\n\n\"_St. Andrew's Square, 27th June, 1772._\n\n\"We are here in a very melancholy situation, continual bankruptcies,\nuniversal loss of credit, and endless suspicions. There are but two\nstanding houses in this place--Mansfields and the Coutses--for I\ncomprehend not Cummin, whose dealings were always very narrow. Mansfield\nhas paid away \u00a340,000 in a few days: but it is apprehended that neither\nhe nor any of them can hold out till the end of next week, if no\nalteration happen. The case is little better in London. It is thought\nthat Sir George Colebroke must soon stop; and even the Bank of England\nis not entirely free from suspicion. Those of Newcastle, Norwich, and\nBristol, are said to be stopped. The Thistle Bank has been reported to\nbe in the same condition. The Carron Company is reeling, which is one of\nthe greatest calamities of the whole, as they gave employment to near\nten thousand people. Do these events any wise affect your theory, or\nwill it occasion the revisal of any chapters?\n\n\"Of all the sufferers, I am the most concerned for the Adams,\nparticularly John. But their undertakings were so vast, that nothing\ncould support them. They must dismiss three thousand workmen, who,\ncomprehending the materials, must have expended above \u00a3100,000 a-year.\nThey have great funds; but if these must be disposed of in a hurry, and\nto disadvantage, I am afraid the remainder will amount to little or\nnothing. People's [compa]ssion I see was exhausted for John, in his last\ncalamity, and every body asks why he incurred any more hazards. But his\nfriendship for his brothers is an apology; though I believe he has a\nprojecting turn of his own. To me the scheme of the Adelphi always\nappeared so imprudent, that my wonder is how they could have gone on so\nlong.\n\n\"If Sir George Colebroke stop, it will probably disconcert all the\nplans of our friends, as it will diminish their patron's influence;\nwhich is a new misfortune.\n\n\"On the whole, I believe that the check given to our exorbitant and ill\ngrounded credit, will prove of advantage in the long run, as it will\nreduce people to more solid, and less sanguine projects, and, at the\nsame time, introduce frugality among the merchants and manufacturers:\nwhat say you? Here is food for your speculation.\"[461:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_St. Andrew's Square, 23d Nov. 1772._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--I should agree to your reasoning, if I could trust your\nresolution. Come hither for some weeks about Christmas; dissipate\nyourself a little; return to Kirkcaldy; finish your work before autumn:\ngo to London; print it; return and settle in this town, which suits your\nstudious independent turn, even better than London. Execute this plan\nfaithfully, and I forgive you.\n\n\"Ferguson has returned, fat and fair, and in good humour,\nnotwithstanding his disappointment, which I am glad of.\"[461:2]\n\n\nIn 1772, Macpherson published a quarto volume, called \"An Introduction\nto the History of Great Britain and Ireland,\" of which Pinkerton,\nindignant at the Celtic spirit it displayed, said, \"The empty vanity,\nshallow reading, vague assertion, and etymological nonsense, in this\nproduction, are truly risible.\" In a letter to Colonel Dow,[461:3] we\nfind Hume criticising this book in a rather less emphatic manner.\n\n\"My compliments to Ossian. He has given us a work last winter, which\ncontains a great deal of genius and good writing; but I cannot assent to\nhis system. I must still adhere to the common opinion regarding our\norigin, or rather your origin; for we are all plainly Danes or Saxons in\nthe low countries. But these subjects I reserve to a discussion over an\nevening fire on your return. I charge you not to think of settling in\nLondon, till you have first seen our New Town, which exceeds any thing\nyou have seen in any part of the world.\"[462:1]\n\nWith the following letter, many readers may perhaps be familiar, but to\nthose who have not already seen it, the curious historical incident it\ndetails, will give it much interest.\n\n\nHUME _to_ SIR JOHN PRINGLE.\n\n     _St. Andrew's Square, Edinburgh,\n     Feb. 10, 1773._\n\n     MY DEAR SIR,--That the present Pretender was in London, in the\n     year 1753, I know with the greatest certainty; because I had\n     it from Lord Marischal, who said, it consisted with his\n     certain knowledge. Two or three days after his lordship gave\n     me this information, he told me, that the evening before, he\n     had learned several curious particulars from a lady, (who I\n     imagined to be Lady Primrose,) though my lord refused to name\n     her. The Pretender came to her house in the evening, without\n     giving her any preparatory information; and entered the room\n     when she had a pretty large company with her, and was herself\n     playing at cards. He was announced by the servant under\n     another name. She thought the cards would have dropped from\n     her hands on seeing him. But she had presence enough of mind,\n     to call him by the name he assumed; to ask him when he came to\n     England, and how long he intended to stay there. After he and\n     all the company went away, the servants remarked how\n     wonderfully like the strange gentleman was to the prince's\n     picture, which hung on the chimney-piece, in the very room in\n     which he entered. My lord added, (I think from the authority\n     of the same lady,) that he used so little precaution, that he\n     went abroad openly in day-light, in his own dress; only laying\n     aside his blue riband and star; walked once through St.\n     James's, and took a turn in the Mall.\n\n     About five years ago, I told this story to Lord Holderness,\n     who was secretary of state in the year 1753; and I added, that\n     I supposed this piece of intelligence had at that time escaped\n     his lordship. \"By no means,\" said he, \"and who do you think\n     first told it me? it was the king himself, who subjoined, 'And\n     what do you think, my lord, I should do with him?'\" Lord\n     Holderness owned that he was puzzled how to reply; for if he\n     declared his real sentiments, they might savour of\n     indifference to the royal family. The king perceived his\n     embarrassment, and extricated him from it, by adding, \"My\n     lord, I shall just do nothing at all; and when he is tired of\n     England, he will go abroad again.\" I think this story, for the\n     honour of the late king, ought to be more generally known.\n\n     But what will surprise you more, Lord Marischal, a few days\n     after the coronation of the present king, told me, that he\n     believed the young Pretender was at that time in London; or at\n     least had been so very lately, and had come over to see the\n     show of the coronation, and had actually seen it. I asked my\n     lord the reason for this strange fact. \"Why,\" says he, \"a\n     gentleman told me so that saw him there; and that he even\n     spoke to him, and whispered in his ears these words: 'Your\n     royal highness is the last of all mortals whom I should expect\n     to see here.'--'It was curiosity that led me,' said the other;\n     'but I assure you,' added he, 'that the person who is the\n     object of all this pomp and magnificence is the man I envy the\n     least.'\" You see this story is so near traced from the\n     fountain head, as to wear a great face of probability. Query,\n     What if the Pretender had taken up Dymock's gauntlet? I find\n     that the Pretender's visit in England, in the year 1753, was\n     known to all the Jacobites; and some of them have assured me,\n     that he took the opportunity of formally renouncing the Roman\n     Catholic religion, under his own name of Charles Stuart, in\n     the new church in the Strand; and that this is the reason of\n     the bad treatment he met with at the court of Rome. I own that\n     I am a sceptic with regard to the last particulars.\n\n     Lord Marischal had a very bad opinion of this unfortunate\n     prince; and thought there was no vice so mean or atrocious of\n     which he was not capable; of which he gave me several\n     instances. My lord, though a man of great honour, may be\n     thought a discontented courtier; but what quite confounded me\n     in the idea of that prince, was a conversation I had with\n     Helv\u00e9tius at Paris, which, I believe, I have told you. In case\n     I have not, I shall mention a few particulars. That gentleman\n     told me, that he had no acquaintance with the Pretender; but,\n     some time after that prince was chased out of France, \"a\n     letter,\" said he, \"was brought me from him, in which he told\n     me that the necessity of his affairs obliged him to be at\n     Paris; and, as he knew me, by character, to be a man of the\n     greatest probity and honour in France, he would trust himself\n     to me, if I would promise to conceal and protect him. I own,\"\n     added Helv\u00e9tius to me, \"although I knew the danger to be\n     greater of harbouring him at Paris than at London; and\n     although I thought the family of Hanover not only the lawful\n     sovereigns in England, but the only lawful sovereigns in\n     Europe, as having the full and free consent of the people; yet\n     was I such a dupe to his flattery, that I invited him to my\n     house; concealed him there, going and coming, near two years;\n     had all his correspondence pass through my hands; met with his\n     partisans upon Pont Neuf; and found, at last, that I had\n     incurred all this danger and trouble for the most unworthy of\n     all mortals; insomuch that I have been assured, when he went\n     down to Nantz, to embark on his expedition to Scotland, he\n     took fright and refused to go on board; and his attendants,\n     thinking the matter gone too far, and that they would be\n     affronted for his cowardice, carried him, in the night time,\n     into the ship, pieds et mains li\u00e9s.\" I asked him, if he meant\n     literally? \"Yes,\" said he, \"literally. They tied him and\n     carried him by main force.\" What think you now of this hero\n     and conqueror?\n\n     Both Lord Marischal and Helv\u00e9tius agree, that with all this\n     strange character, he was no bigot; but rather had learned,\n     from the philosophers at Paris, to affect a contempt of all\n     religion. You must know that both these persons thought they\n     were ascribing to him an excellent quality. Indeed, both of\n     them used to laugh at me for my narrow way of thinking in\n     these particulars.[465:1] However, my dear Sir John, I hope\n     you will do me the justice to acquit me.\n\n     I doubt not but these circumstances will appear curious to\n     Lord Hardwicke, to whom you will please to present my\n     respects. I suppose his lordship will think this unaccountable\n     mixture of temerity and timidity, in the same character, not a\n     little singular. I am yours very sincerely.[465:2]\n\nIf there should be any doubts of the genuineness of this letter, from\nits having first appeared, unauthenticated, in a periodical work, they\nwill be removed by the perusal of the following answer by Sir John\nPringle, printed from the original manuscript.\n\n\nSIR JOHN PRINGLE _to_ HUME.\n\n     _London, 5th November, 1773_.\n\n     DEAR SIR,--I was much obliged to you for your letter of the\n     10th ult., as it furnished me with sufficient means for\n     maintaining my credit with Lord Hardwicke, a person I have not\n     the honour to be well known to; and I had the more occasion\n     for such a testimony as yours, as the other earl, mentioned in\n     your letter, has thought proper, (I presume since he has once\n     more become a courtier,) to deny his knowing any thing of the\n     story, when one of the company, (where I told the anecdote to\n     Lord Hardwicke,) inquired of him about it.\n\n     Lord Hardwicke, not being in town when yours came to hand, I\n     charged his intimate friend, Mr. Wray, who was going to visit\n     him, with it. Yesterday, that gentleman returned, and, with\n     the letter, sent me a line, expressing his lordship's great\n     satisfaction in the communication; and with many thanks to us\n     both for it. I understand he is very curious in picking up\n     such historical facts; and, if so, he certainly never met with\n     any thing of that kind more suited to his genius. The most\n     extraordinary circumstance is, that of the _pied et poing\n     li\u00e9s_; and yet your authority seems to be unexceptionable.\n     What could be expected from an adventurer whom they had been\n     obliged to treat in that humiliating manner? and whose\n     timidity, they must believe, was every now and then to recur,\n     to affront those that set him upon the enterprise? I know that\n     _our_ people were at great pains to decry his courage, after\n     the battle of Culloden; but that I considered always as done\n     upon a political, rather than an historical principle. I had\n     good evidence for believing that, at Derby, he was, of the\n     council of war, the person who stood longest out against the\n     motion for returning, and not advancing to London. Again, he\n     was for standing at the Spey; and, lastly, he did not retire\n     from Culloden till his whole band was put to flight. It is\n     true he never advanced nearer than the corps de r\u00e9serve; but\n     which corresponded to our second line, in which the Duke of\n     Cumberland placed himself. I may add, that both of us have\n     been informed, that he betrayed no unmanly concern, when he\n     skulked so long with his female heroine; and then, surely, he\n     was daily in the greatest danger of his life; had he been\n     taken he would have met with no quarter. But, after all, these\n     testimonies, in favour of his courage, must yield to such\n     proofs as you bring to the contrary.[466:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_St. Andrew's Square, 24th Feb., 1773._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--There are two late publications here which I advise you to\ncommission. The first is Andrew Stuart's Letters to Lord Mansfield,\nwhich they say have met with vast success in London. Andrew has eased\nhis own mind, and no bad effects are to follow. Lord Mansfield is\ndetermined, absolutely, to neglect them. The other is Lord Monboddo's\ntreatise on the Origin and Progress of Language, which is only part of\na larger work. It contains all the absurdity and malignity which I\nexpected; but is writ with more ingenuity and in a better style than I\nlooked for.\"[467:1]\n\n\n\"_St. Andrew's Square, 10th April, 1773._\n\n\"To-day news arrived in town, that the Ayr Bank had shut up, and, as\nmany people think, for ever. I hear that the Duke of Buccleuch is on the\nroad. The country will be in prodigious distress for money this term.\nSir G. Colebroke's bankruptcy is thought to be the immediate cause of\nthis event.\n\n\"Have you seen Macpherson's Homer? It is hard to tell whether the\nattempt or the execution be worse. I hear he is employed by the\nbooksellers to continue my History. But, in my opinion, of all men of\nparts, he has the most anti-historical head in the universe.\n\n\"Have you seen Sir John Dalrymple? It is strange what a rage is against\nhim, on account of the most commendable action in his life. His\ncollection[467:2] is curious; but introduces no new light into the\ncivil, whatever it may into the biographical and anecdotical history of\nthe times.\n\n\"Have you seen 'Alonzo?' Very slovenly versification, some pathetic, but\ntoo much resembling 'Douglas.'\"[467:3]\n\n\nWe have found Gilbert Stuart deferentially courting Hume's notice of his\nearlier literary efforts. A few years of popularity as an author, and\nthe command of a periodical work, had in the meantime changed the man's\ncharacter, by developing all its arrogance, jealousy, conceit, and\nvindictiveness. He was one of those who indulge in the comfortable\nconsciousness, that any comparison between their own genius and that of\nany other given person is supremely ludicrous; and as some one said of\nLa Harpe, it might have proved a good speculation to buy him at what he\nwas worth, and sell him at his own estimate of his value. Sick of the\npraises he heard bestowed on Robertson and the other eminent historians\nof his age, he thought it his duty to show the world how the lamp of\nsuch industrious drudges would grow pale before the lustre of true\ngenius; and thus he favoured the public with some historical efforts, in\nwhich the curious reader of the present day, who takes them from\nforgotten shelves, is somewhat surprised to find how effectually\nwell-turned periods, and a certain audacity of opinion, keep out of view\nthe meagreness of the author's inquiries.\n\nIn 1773, Stuart began to edit the _Edinburgh Magazine and Review_.\nPeriodical literature was the proper sphere for exhibiting his powers;\nwhich consisted in the ready acquisition of a superficial view of any\nsubject, and a rapid, yet elegant style; occasionally magniloquent, and\nat other times descriptive or sarcastic. No other periodical work of\nthat day equalled the _Edinburgh Magazine and Review_, in genius and\noriginality. But the editor made it the vehicle of his tyrannical and\nvindictive spirit; and the purse and person of the proprietor--it might\nalmost be said the peace of society, were endangered by so formidable a\nweapon remaining in such hands.[468:1]\n\nAt this time, the Rev. Robert Henry was publishing his valuable History\nof Britain, volume by volume. Stuart had vowed that he would crush this\nwork; and the critical columns he concentrated against it, do great\ncredit to his ability as a tactician. Hume was promised the privilege of\nreviewing the book in _the Magazine_, and probably Stuart thought that\nto arm him against an interloper in his own province was excellent\npolicy; but when the article was written, and put in proof, it was found\nnot adapted to the editor's purpose. We find him thus writing to a\nconfederate:\n\n     David Hume wants to review Henry; but that task is so\n     precious, that I will undertake it myself. Moses, were he to\n     ask it as a favour, should not have it: yea, not even the man\n     after God's own heart. I wish I could transport myself to\n     London, to review him for the _Monthly_: a fire there and in\n     the _Critical_, would perfectly annihilate him. Could you do\n     nothing in the latter? To the former I suppose David Hume has\n     transcribed the criticism he intended for us. It is precious\n     and would divert you. I keep a _proof_ of it in my cabinet\n     for the amusement of friends. This great philosopher begins to\n     dote.[470:1]\n\nA review of Henry's work _did_ appear in _The Monthly Review_, but from\na very different pen. The _proof_, however, which gave Stuart so much\namusement, has fortunately been preserved. After giving a favourable\nanalysis of Henry's second volume, it concludes with the following\nsentences, in many respects remarkable.\n\n     The reader will scarcely find in our language, except in the\n     works of the celebrated Dr. Robertson, any performance that\n     unites together so perfectly the great points of entertainment\n     and instruction. It is happy for the inhabitants of this\n     metropolis, which has naturally a great influence on the\n     country, that the same persons who can make such a figure in\n     profane learning, are intrusted with the guidance of the\n     people in their spiritual concerns, which are of such\n     superior, and indeed of unspeakable importance. These\n     illustrious examples, if any thing, must make the infidel\n     abashed of his vain cavils, and put a stop to that torrent of\n     vice, profaneness, and immorality, by which the age is so\n     unhappily distinguished.\n\n     This city can justly boast of other signal characters of the\n     same kind, whom learning and piety, taste and devotion,\n     philosophy and faith, joined to the severest morals and most\n     irreproachable conduct, concur to embellish. One in\n     particular, with the same hand by which he turns over the\n     sublime pages of Homer and Virgil, Demosthenes and Cicero, is\n     not ashamed to open with reverence the sacred volumes; and\n     with the same voice by which, from the pulpit, he strikes vice\n     with consternation, he deigns to dictate to his pupils the\n     most useful lessons of rhetoric, poetry, and polite\n     literature.[470:2]\n\nHume was an early friend of Benjamin Franklin, whom he was instrumental\nin introducing to his Parisian friends.[471:1] The celebrated\npublication of the papers revealing the policy of the ascendency party,\nand the scene at the council board, of which Franklin so deeply\ncherished the memory, are thus alluded to in a letter to Smith, of 13th\nFebruary, 1774:--\n\n\"Pray, what strange accounts are these we hear of Franklin's conduct? I\nam very slow in believing that he has been guilty in the extreme degree\nthat is pretended; though I always knew him to be a very factious man,\nand faction, next to fanaticism, is of all passions the most destructive\nof morality. How is it supposed he got possession of these letters? I\nhear that Wedderburn's treatment of him before the council was most\ncruel, without being in the least blameable. What a pity!\"[471:2]\n\nThe following, among the very few letters which Hume appears to have\nwritten at this period of his life, is addressed to John Home.\n\n\n\"_St. Andrew's Square, 4th June, 1774._\n\n\"DEAR JOHN,--The enclosed came to hand to-day, and, as I take it to be\ndirected to you, I have sent it you. If on opening it you find it\notherwise, you may return it to me, that I may find the true owner.\n\n\"You have seen, no doubt, the specimen of a Scotch review.[472:1] My\nfirst conjecture was that Carlyle was the author; but Dr. Blair has\nconvinced me that it is much more probably the production of your\nspiritual guide, Tom Hepburn;[472:2] but, whoever be the father, the\nchild has a great deal of salt, and spirit, and humour. I wish he would\ncontinue, though at the hazard of my getting a rap over the knuckles\nfrom time to time; for I see in this hero the spirit of a Drawcansir,\nwho spares neither friend nor foe. I think I can reckon about twenty\npeople, not including the king, whom he has attacked in this short\nperformance. I hope all his spleen is not exhausted. I should desire my\ncompliments to him, were I not afraid that he would interpret the\ncivility as paying black mail to him. I am, dear John, yours\nsincerely.\"[472:3]\n\n\nThe following appears to be the earliest letter in which Hume expresses\nhimself conscious of some unpleasant feelings, systematic of a decay of\nthe physical functions.\n\n\nHUME _to_ COLONEL EDMONDSTOUNE.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 23d March, 1775._\n\n\"CARO GIUSEPPE,--No request can be more obliging than yours; and no\nparty could have been proposed to any place, or with any company, more\nagreeable to me. But you remember what a plague I was to every body and\nto myself on my last journey; and you may recollect that I made a vow,\nin the bitterness of my distress, never more to leave my own house, nor\nlie out of my own bed. This vow I have religiously kept, except two or\nthree days last autumn, when I went to my brother's; and though I could\nscarcely there esteem myself from home, I resolved never more to pay\nthem a visit. You have not a bed cool enough for me, which proceeds not\nfrom any distemper or disorder, but from a peculiarity of constitution,\nthat has been gradually increasing on me these last twelve years. I am\nin very good health: but let me tell you, that you express yourself\nstrangely when you say I have been _complaining_. How could you imagine\nthat I could ever complain, even though _fractus illabatur orbis_? I\nbeseech you, know better the people to whom you speak, and the force of\nthe terms you make use of. Miss Keiths desired me to tell you, that some\ntime ago they had a letter from Sir Basil, by which they learn that your\nrequest with regard to Maillet's friend, is complied with.\n\n\"My compliments to Mrs. Edmondstoune; embrace Jean Jacques in my name.\nDear Guidelianus, I am ever yours.\"[473:1]\n\n\nColonel Edmondstoune's answer to these excuses is not a little curious.\n\n     DEAR OBSTINATE DAVID,\n\n          _Pravum_ et tenacem propositi virum\n          Non civium ardor _recta_ jubentium\n          Non vultus instantis _Baronn\u00e6_\n          Mente quatit _stolida_.\n\n     Will nothing move you, you obdurate philosopher? Your reasons\n     are not worth a straw; and I'll prosecute you for scandalizing\n     my house. The room next to your last is as cool as any room\n     ought to be. It looks to the north, and you was put into a\n     south room, merely because it was thought that the sun's\n     vivifying ray would be of use to a man that had been worn out\n     and so much epuis\u00e9 in France. Besides, you scrub, have I not\n     seen you basking for hours together in the sun, contemplating\n     Shellie, and burning with envy at his prowess? and I heard\n     nothing about your being heated till we came to Killin, and\n     that was Crichen's doing, to season you for still a hotter\n     place.[474:1]\n\n\nHUME _to his Nephew_.[474:2]\n\n\"_St. Andrew's Square, 30th August, 1775._\n\n\"DEAR DAVY,--Your letter gave me satisfaction, and I approve very much\nof your course of study. But I think you are unreasonably diffident of\nyourself with regard to the _copia verborum_: you are not wanting in\nthat particular [consider]ing you as a beginner; and the course you take\nwill tend very much to [produce] greater facility as well as correctness\nof expression. Stylus est optimus [magis]ter eloquenti\u00e6. These, if not\nthe words, are the sense of Quinctilian, for I cite from memory. You\nknow that the Roman stylus was the same as the pen.\n\n\"I had a letter to-day from Mr. Millar,[474:3] who tells me that he\nexpects to see you on the first Monday of November.\n\n\"I do not go to Inverara as soon as I proposed: it will be next week\nbefore I set out. I think I am the better for jaunting; though in the\nmain I should like better to stay at home.\n\n\"My compliments to your mother; I am glad she has heard from Josey; but\nI wonder what has detained him so long at Paris.\n\n\"I fancy you and Jock are very happy at present in your field sports;\nand your father will not be displeased to see the favourable progress of\nthe harvest. I am, dear Davy, your affectionate uncle.\"[475:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ JOHN HOME.\n\n     _St. Andrew's Square, Sept. 20th, 1775._\n\n     DEAR JOHN,--Of all the vices of language, the least excusable\n     is the want of perspicuity; for, as words were instituted by\n     men, merely for conveying their ideas to each other, the\n     employing of words without meaning is a palpable abuse, which\n     departs from the very original purpose and intention of\n     language. It is also to be observed, that any ambiguity in\n     expression is next to the having no meaning at all; and is\n     indeed a species of it; for while the hearer or reader is\n     perplexed between different meanings, he can assign no\n     determinate idea to the speaker or writer; and may, on that\n     account, say with Ovid, \"Inopem me copia fecit.\" For this\n     reason, all eminent rhetoricians and grammarians, both ancient\n     and modern, have insisted on perspicuity of language as an\n     essential quality; without which, all ornaments of diction are\n     vain and fruitless. Quinctilian carries the matter so far, as\n     to condemn this expression, _vidi hominem librum legentem_;\n     because, says he, legentem may construe as well with _librum_\n     as _hominem_; though one would think that the sense were here\n     sufficient to prevent all ambiguity. In conformity to this\n     way of thinking, Vaugelas, the first great grammarian of\n     France, will not permit that any one have recourse to the\n     sense, in order to explain the meaning of the words; because,\n     says he, it is the business of the words to explain the\n     meaning of the sense--not of the sense to give a determinate\n     meaning to the words; and this practice is reversing the order\n     of nature; like the custom of the Romans (he might have added\n     the Greeks,) in their Saturnalia, who made the slaves the\n     masters; for you may learn from Lucian that the Greeks\n     practised the same frolic during the festival of Saturn, whom\n     they called \u03a7\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03c2.\n\n     Now, to apply, and to come to the use of this principle: I\n     must observe to you, that your last letter, besides a\n     continued want of distinctness in the form of the literal\n     characters, has plainly transgressed the essential rule\n     above-mentioned of grammar and rhetoric. You say that Coutts\n     has complained to you of not hearing from me; had you said\n     either James or Thomas, I could have understood your meaning.\n     About two months ago, I heard that James complained of me in\n     this respect; and I wrote to him, though then abroad, making\n     an apology for my being one of the subscribers of a paper\n     which gave him some offence. I was afraid he had not received\n     mine. The letter of Thomas, I conceived to be only a circular\n     letter, informing me of a change in the firm of the house: and\n     having answered it a few days ago, by giving him some\n     directions about disposing of my money, which proved that I\n     intended to remain a customer to the shop; it happens,\n     therefore, luckily, that I had obviated all objections to my\n     conduct on both sides.\n\n     In turning over my papers, I find a manuscript journal of the\n     last rebellion, which is at your service. I hope Mrs. Home is\n     better, and will be able to execute her journey. Are you to be\n     in town soon? Yours without ambiguity, circumlocution, or\n     mental reservation.[476:1]\n\nHume, though we have found him censuring the conduct of Franklin, was\nopposed to any attempt to coerce America. \"I always thought,\" says Sir\nJohn Pringle, when writing to him, \"you were in the wrong, when you\nsupposed these colonies wanted only a pretext to shake off their\nsubjection.\"[477:1] This subjection he seems to have thought they were\nentitled to throw off; for he was far more tolerant of the sway of\nindividuals over numbers, which he looked upon as the means of\npreserving order and civilization, than of the predominance of one\nterritory over another, which he looked upon as subjugation.\nUnfortunately, few of his opinions on this subject can be better\nascertained than by the reflex light of the letters addressed to him, in\nanswer to his remarks. With Strahan, the eminent printer, he carried on\nan extensive correspondence on political matters, of which the letters\non his own side have unfortunately been lost.[477:2] The sentiments\nwhich Hume had expressed on the American war, are thus described, by\ncontrast, in the words of that member of Parliament, to whom Franklin\naddressed his celebrated letter of defiance.\n\n\nWILLIAM STRAHAN _to_ HUME.\n\n     I differ from you _toto c\u0153lo_ with regard to America. I am\n     entirely for coercive methods with those obstinate madmen; and\n     why should we despair of success? Why should we suffer the\n     empire to be so dismembered, without the utmost exertions on\n     our part? I see nothing so very formidable in this business,\n     if we become a little more unanimous, and could stop the\n     mouths of domestic traitors, from whence the evil originated.\n     Not that I wish to enslave the colonists, or to make them one\n     jot less happy than ourselves; but I am for keeping them\n     subordinate to the British legislature; and their trade, in a\n     reasonable degree, subservient to the interest of the mother\n     country; an advantage she well deserves; but which she must\n     inevitably lose, if they are emancipated, as you propose. I am\n     really surprised you are of a different opinion. Very true,\n     things look oddly at present; and the dispute hath, hitherto,\n     been very ill managed; but so we always do at the commencement\n     of every war. So we did, most remarkably, in the last. It is\n     perhaps owing to the nature of our government, which permits\n     not of those sudden and decisive exertions frequently made by\n     arbitrary princes. But, so soon as the British lion is roused,\n     we never fail to fetch up our lee-way, as the sailors say. And\n     so I hope you will find it in this important case.[478:1]\n\nThe following letter, which is not, however, written in a spirit of\nentire earnestness or sobriety, has some reference to his views on the\nAmerican question.\n\n\nHUME _to_ BARON MURE.\n\n\"_St. David's Street, Oct. 27th, 1775._\n\n\"OH! DEAR BARON,--You have thrown me into agonies, and almost into\nconvulsions, by your request. You ask what seems reasonable,--what seems\na mere trifle; yet am I so unfit for it, that it is almost impossible\nfor me to comply. You are much fitter yourself. That address, by which\nyou gained immortal honour, was done altogether without my knowledge; I\nmean that after the suppression of the late rebellion. Here is Lord Home\nteazing me for an address from the Merse; and I have constantly refused\nhim. Besides, I am an American in my principles, and wish we would let\nthem alone to govern or misgovern themselves, as they think proper: the\naffair is of no consequence, or of little consequence, to us. If the\ncounty of Renfrew think it indispensably necessary for them to\ninterpose in public matters, I wish they would advise the king, first to\npunish those insolent rascals in London and Middlesex, who daily insult\nhim and the whole legislature, before he thinks of America. Ask him, how\nhe can expect that a form of government will maintain an authority at\nthree thousand miles' distance, when it cannot make itself be respected,\nor even be treated with common decency, at home. Tell him, that Lord\nNorth, though, in appearance, a worthy gentleman, has not a head for\nthese great operations; and that, if fifty thousand men, and twenty\nmillions of money, were intrusted to such a lukewarm coward as Gage,\nthey never could produce any effect. These are objects worthy of the\nrespectable county of Renfrew: not mauling the poor infatuated Americans\nin the other hemisphere.\"[479:1]\n\n\nIt has already been said, that Hume appears to have suspected that his\nnephew, David, was imbibing republican principles. It is well worthy of\nremark, that he does not appear to have considered the training of his\nyoung nephews, in political opinions different from his own, as at all\nto be deprecated; and David, to whom the following letter is addressed,\nwas boarded with Professor Millar, afterwards author of the \"Historical\nView of the English Government,\" who had even then shown himself as one\nof the most powerful antagonists of Hume's constitutional doctrines. It\nmust be regretted that the letter is much mutilated; but enough of it is\npreserved to show how lightly Hume's political opinions hung on him--how\nlittle they possessed the character of a creed--how tolerant he was of\nany system of politics which bore the air of philosophy, and how\ncuriously he could let his reason vibrate between opinions of the most\nopposite character in practical politics.\n\n\nHUME _to his_ NEPHEW.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 8th December, 1775._\n\n\"DEAR DAVY,--All your letters, both to me and to your father, have\n[given] great satisfaction, particularly your last; and, in return, I\nmust give you [the] satisfaction of telling you, that Mr. Millar is very\nwell pleased with you, [-----] no less than you with him. He complains\nonly of one thing, which [is not the] usual complaint of tutors against\ntheir pupils; to wit, that he is afraid you [apply too] close, and may\nhurt your health by too assiduous study. I should not men[tion this] if\nI had the least apprehension that a hint of this nature would m[ake you]\nrelax too much. But I cannot forbear saying, that every day, fair or\nfoul, [you] ought to use some exercise. Relaxation from [for?]\namusement, you may use, [or not,] as you fancy; but that, for health, is\nabsolutely necessary. When I was [of your] age, I was inclined to give\nin to excesses of the same kind; and I remember [an anecdote] told me by\na friend, the present Lord Pitfour. A man was riding, with [great]\nviolence, and running his horse quite out of wind. He stopt a moment to\n[ask when] he might reach a particular place. In two hours, replied the\ncountryman, [if you] will go slower; in four if you be in such a hurry.\nBad health, be[sides other] inconveniencies, is the greatest interrupter\nto study in the world.\n\n\"I cannot but agree with Mr. Millar, that the republican form of\ngovernment is by far the best. The ancient republics were somewhat\nferocious and torn [-----] by bloody factions; but they were still much\npreferable to the monarchies or [aristocracies] which seem to have been\nquite intolerable. Modern manners have corrected this abuse; and all the\nrepublics in Europe, without exception, are so well governed that one is\nat a loss to which we should give the preference. But what is this\ngeneral subject of speculation to our purpose? For, besides that an\nestablished government [-----] without the most criminal imputation, be\ndisjointed from any speculation, [-----] is only fitted for a small\nstate; and any attempt towards it can, in our [-----] produce only\nanarchy, which is the immediate forerunner of despotism [-----] tell us\nwhat is that form of a republic which we must aspire to? Or [-----]stion\nbe afterwards decided by the sword. [One] great advantage of a\ncommonwealth over our mixed monarchy, is, that it [would consid]erably\nabridge our liberty; which is growing to such an extreme as to be\nincom[patible wi]th all. Such fools are they who perpetually cry out\nliberty, [and think to] augment it by shaking off the monarchy.\n\n\"I have not heard from Josey for some time, which, you may believe, has\nproduced [-----] reflections in some of your friends. But to show you\nthat you are not forgotten [-----] I showed Mr. Millar's letter to your\nmother. I am afraid, said she, that [-----] some symptoms of a\nconsumption in poor Davy.\n\n\"[I a]m far from thinking Mr. Millar's demands in point of money\nunreas[onable.] On the contrary, I believe that I never laid out money\nto better purpose.\n\n\"[Ha]rrington is an author of genius, but chimerical. No laws, however\nrigorous, [would ma]ke his Agrarian practicable. And as the people have\nonly a negative, the [-----] would perpetually gain ground upon them.\nYou remember that Montesquieu says, that Harrington establishing his\n\"Oceana\" in opposition to the English constitution, is like the blind\nmen who built Chalcedon on the opposite [-----] to the seat of\nByzantium. I ask your pardon for not writing to you [sooner,] but beg\nthe continuance of your correspondence. My compliments to [Mr. Millar,]\nto whom I owe a letter. I am, your affectionate uncle.\"[482:1]\n\n\nHUME _to_ JOHN HOME.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 8th February, 1776._\n\n\"DEAR TYRTAEUS,--It is a remark of Dr. Swift's, that no man in London\never complained of his being neglected by his friends in the country.\nYour complaint of me is the more flattering.\n\n\"Two posts ago, I received, under a frank of General Fraser's, a\npamphlet, entitled _A letter from an officer retired_. It is a very good\npamphlet; and I conjecture you to be the author. Sallust makes it a\nquestion, whether the writer or the performer of good things has the\npreference? and he ascribes the greater praise to the latter. It is\nhappy for you, that you may rest your fame on either. I here allude to\nwhat you have done for Ferguson.\n\n\"But, pray, why do you say, that the post of Boston is like the camp of\nPirna? I fancy our troops can be withdrawn thence without any\ndifficulty.\n\n\"I make no doubt, since you sound the trumpet for war against the\nAmericans, that you have a plan ready for governing them, after they are\nsubdued: but you will not subdue them; unless they break in pieces\namong themselves--an event very probable. It is a wonder it has not\nhappened sooner. But no man can foretell how far these frenzies of the\npeople may be carried. Yours,\" &c.[483:1]\n\n\nThe following letter exhibits a feeling of impatience for the appearance\nof the long promised \"Wealth of Nations.\" It shows, in discussing some\nquestions in political economy, that, with his usual sagacity, Hume\npredicted that the loss of British supremacy over America, would not\nhave that dire effect on our commercial prosperity, which had been\nanticipated.\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 8th Feb. 1776._\n\n\"DEAR SMITH,--I am as lazy a correspondent as you, yet my anxiety about\nyou makes me write. By all accounts your book has been printed long ago:\nyet it has never yet been so much as advertised. What is the reason? If\nyou wait till the fate of America be decided, you may wait long.\n\n\"By all accounts, you intend to settle with us this spring: yet we hear\nno more of it: What is the reason? Your chamber in my house is always\nunoccupied. I am always at home. I expect you to land here.\n\n\"I have been, am, and shall be probably in an indifferent state of\nhealth. I weighed myself t' other day, and find I have fallen five\ncomplete stones. If you delay much longer I shall probably disappear\naltogether.\n\n\"The Duke of Buccleuch tells me that you are very zealous in American\naffairs. My notion is that the matter is not so important as is\ncommonly imagined. If I be mistaken, I shall probably correct my error\nwhen I see you, or read you. Our navigation and general commerce may\nsuffer more than our manufactures. Should London fall as much in its\nsize as I have done, it will be the better. It is nothing but a hulk of\nbad and unclean humours. Yours,\" &c.[484:1]\n\n\nIt is not perhaps uncharitable to suppose, that the following eulogium\nwould have been more warm, had the person it was addressed to not been\none of \"the barbarians who inhabit the banks of the Thames.\"\n\n\nHUME _to_ GIBBON.\n\n     _Edinburgh, 18th March, 1776._\n\n     DEAR SIR,--As I ran through your volume of history with a\n     great deal of avidity and impatience, I cannot forbear\n     discovering somewhat of the same impatience in returning you\n     thanks for your agreeable present, and expressing the\n     satisfaction which the performance has given me. Whether I\n     consider the dignity of your style, the depth of your matter,\n     or the extensiveness of your learning, I must regard the work\n     as equally the object of esteem; and I own, that if I had not\n     previously had the happiness of your personal acquaintance,\n     such a performance, from an Englishman in our age, would have\n     given me some surprise. You may smile at this sentiment; but\n     as it seems to me that your countrymen, for almost a whole\n     generation, have given themselves up to barbarous and absurd\n     faction, and have totally neglected all polite letters, I no\n     longer expected any valuable production ever to come from\n     them. I know it will give you pleasure (as it did me,) to find\n     that all the men of letters in this place concur in their\n     admiration of your work, and in their anxious desire of your\n     continuing it.\n\n     When I heard of your undertaking, (which was some time ago,) I\n     own I was a little curious to see how you would extricate\n     yourself from the subject of your two last chapters. I think\n     you have observed a very prudent temperament; but it was\n     impossible to treat the subject so as not to give grounds of\n     suspicion against you, and you may expect that a clamour will\n     arise. This, if any thing, will retard your success with the\n     public; for in every other respect your work is calculated to\n     be popular. But, among many other marks of decline, the\n     prevalence of superstition in England, prognosticates the fall\n     of philosophy and decay of taste; and though nobody be more\n     capable than you to revive them, you will probably find a\n     struggle in your first advances.\n\n     I see you entertain a great doubt with regard to the\n     authenticity of the poems of Ossian. You are certainly right\n     in so doing. It is, indeed, strange, that any men of sense\n     could have imagined it possible, that above twenty thousand\n     verses, along with numberless historical facts, could have\n     been preserved by oral tradition during fifty generations, by\n     the rudest, perhaps, of all European nations; the most\n     necessitous, the most turbulent, and the most unsettled. Where\n     a supposition is so contrary to common sense, any positive\n     evidence of it ought never to be regarded. Men run with great\n     avidity to give their evidence in favour of what flatters\n     their passions, and their national prejudices. You are,\n     therefore, over and above indulgent to us in speaking of the\n     matter with hesitation.\n\n     I must inform you, that we are all very anxious to hear that\n     you have fully collected the materials for your second volume,\n     and that you are even considerably advanced in the composition\n     of it. I speak this more in the name of my friends than in my\n     own; as I cannot expect to live so long as to see the\n     publication of it. Your ensuing volume will be more delicate\n     than the preceding, but I trust in your prudence for\n     extricating you from the difficulties; and, in all events, you\n     have courage to despise the clamour of bigots. I am, with\n     regard, &c.[485:1]\n\nAt length appeared the long looked for work, in which the parent of the\nfirst elucidations of political economy was to see his own offspring\neclipsed; and to see it with pride. One must be familiar with the\nunenvious friendship which Hume ever bestowed, on the fellow countrymen\nwho joined him in the noble path of philosophical inquiry, to appreciate\nthe genuine satisfaction with which he thus hailed the appearance of\n\"The Wealth of Nations.\"\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 1st April, 1776._\n\n\"EUGE! BELLE! DEAR MR. SMITH,--I am much pleased with your performance;\nand the perusal of it has taken me from a state of great anxiety. It was\na work of so much expectation, by yourself, by your friends, and by the\npublic, that I trembled for its appearance, but am now much relieved.\nNot but that the reading of it necessarily requires so much attention,\nand the public is disposed to give so little, that I shall still doubt\nfor some time of its being at first very popular. But it has depth, and\nsolidity, and acuteness, and is so much illustrated by curious facts,\nthat it must at last take the public attention. It is probably much\nimproved by your last abode in London. If you were here at my fireside,\nI should dispute some of your principles. I cannot think that the rent\nof farms makes any part of the price of the produce, but that the price\nis determined altogether by the quantity and the demand.[486:1] It\nappears to me impossible, that the King of France can take a seignorage\nof eight per cent upon the coinage. Nobody would bring bullion to the\nmint; it would be all sent to Holland or England, where it might be\ncoined and sent back to France, for less than two per cent. Accordingly,\nNecker says, that the French king takes only two per cent of seignorage.\nBut these and a hundred other points are fit only to be discussed in\nconversation; which, till you tell me the contrary, I still flatter\nmyself with soon. I hope it will be soon; for I am in a very bad state\nof health, and cannot afford a long delay. I fancy you are acquainted\nwith Mr. Gibbon. I like his performance extremely, and have ventured to\ntell him, that, had I not been personally acquainted with him, I should\nnever have expected such an excellent work from the pen of an\nEnglishman. It is lamentable to consider how much that nation has\ndeclined in literature during our time. I hope he did not take amiss the\nnational reflection.\n\n\"All your friends here are in great grief at present, for the death of\nBaron Mure, which is an irreparable loss to our society. He was among\nthe oldest and best friends I had in the world.\"[487:1]\n\n\nIn April, 1776, the disease of which Hume subsequently died, had made\nalarming progress. The little autobiographical sketch, called \"my own\nLife,\" was finished on the eighteenth of that month; and he there speaks\nof the rise and progress of his disorder, and of his feelings under the\nexpectation of a speedy termination of his life, in the following\nterms:--\n\n     In spring, 1775, I was struck with a disorder in my bowels,\n     which at first gave me no alarm, but has since, as I apprehend\n     it, become mortal and incurable. I now reckon upon a speedy\n     dissolution. I have suffered very little pain from my\n     disorder; and what is more strange, have, notwithstanding the\n     great decline of my person, never suffered a moment's\n     abatement of my spirits; insomuch, that were I to name the\n     period of my life which I should most choose to pass over\n     again, I might be tempted to point to this latter period. I\n     possess the same ardour as ever in study, and the same gaiety\n     in company. I consider, besides, that a man of sixty-five, by\n     dying, cuts off only a few years of infirmities; and though I\n     see many symptoms of my literary reputation's breaking out at\n     last with additional lustre, I knew that I could have but few\n     years to enjoy it. It is difficult to be more detached from\n     life than I am at present.\n\nIt was probably early in the year, and before the disease had made such\nprogress, as to make his friends in general anticipate its fatal\nconclusion, that Dr. Black wrote the following undated letter on the\nsubject to Smith:--\n\n\"I write at present, chiefly to acquaint you with the state of your\nfriend David Hume's health, which is so bad that I am quite melancholy\nupon it, and as I hear that you intend a visit to this country soon, I\nwish if possible to hasten your coming, that he may have the comfort of\nyour company so much the sooner. He has been declining several years,\nand this in a slow and gradual manner, until about a twelvemonth ago,\nsince which the progress of his disorder has been more rapid. One of his\ndistresses has been a sensation of excessive heat, chiefly in the night\ntime, and which was only external, for it occasioned no internal\ndistress, or anxiety, or thirst.\"\n\nBlack then proceeds to describe with more minuteness, than would be\neither pleasing or instructive to unscientific readers, a series of\nsymptoms from which he infers that the most serious part of his\npatient's disorder, is a hemorrhage in the upper part of the\nintestines.[488:1] He continues,--\n\n\"His mother, he says, had precisely the same constitution with himself,\nand died of this very disorder; which has made him give up any hopes of\nhis getting the better of it.\" He concludes by saying,--\n\n\"Do not, however, say much on this subject to any one else; as he does\nnot like to have it spoke of, and has been shy and slow in acquainting\nme fully with the state of his health.\"\n\nIn preparation for the event, which could not be far distant, he had\nexecuted a settlement of his estate, so early as the 4th of January. He\nleft the bulk of his fortune to his brother, or, in the case of his\npredeceasing him, to his nephew David, burdened in the latter case with\nspecial legacies to his other nephews and his nieces. He left his sister\n\u00a31200. Along with some legacies to a few obscure private friends and to\nhis servants, he left \u00a3200 to D'Alembert, and the same sum to Adam\nFerguson.[489:1] He appointed Smith his literary executor, in the\nfollowing terms:[490:1] \"To my friend Dr. Adam Smith, late Professor of\nMoral Philosophy in Glasgow, I leave all my manuscripts without\nexception, desiring him to publish my 'Dialogues on Natural Religion,'\nwhich are comprehended in this present bequest; but to publish no other\npapers which he suspects not to have been written within these five\nyears, but to destroy them all at his leisure. And I even leave him full\npower over all my papers, except the Dialogues above mentioned; and\nthough I can trust to that intimate and sincere friendship, which has\never subsisted between us, for his faithful execution of this part of my\nwill, yet, as a small recompense of his pains in correcting and\npublishing this work, I leave him two hundred pounds, to be paid\nimmediately after the publication of it.\"\n\nSmith subsequently refused to receive payment of the legacy; and it was\nthe cause of a long friendly discussion with Mr. Home of Ninewells, who,\nin opposition to his argument, that it was bequeathed as a remuneration\nfor editorial labours, which by a subsequent alteration of the bequest\ndid not require to be performed, urged such pleas as this, \"My brother,\nknowing your liberal way of thinking, laid on you something as an\nequivalent, not imagining you would refuse a small gratuity from the\nfunds it was to come from, as a testimony of his friendship.\"[490:2] But\nhe pleaded in vain; and Smith continued to refuse the bequest, with all\nthe firmness of his unmercenary nature.\n\nPrevious to his journey to Bath, which has to be presently narrated,\nHume appears to have informed Smith of the desire expressed in his will,\nthat he should undertake the publication of the \"Dialogues on Natural\nReligion.\" The intimation was probably verbal, as it does not form part\nof any letter among Hume's papers. Elliot was opposed to the publication\nof this work. Blair pleaded strongly for its suppression; and Smith, who\nhad made up his mind, that he would not edit the work, seems to have\ndesired that the testamentary injunction laid on him might be revoked.\nHume, however, before his death, took effectual steps to guard against\nits suppression.\n\nThus, after having good-naturedly abstained, for nearly thirty years,\nfrom the publication of a work, which might give pain and umbrage to his\ndearest friends; at the close of life, and when the lapse of time since\nit was written might have been supposed to render him indifferent to its\nfate,--because there appeared some danger of its final suppression, he\ntook decided and well pondered steps to avert from it this fate. Such\nwas the character of the man!\n\n\nHUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.\n\n\"_London, 3d May, 1776._\n\n\"MY DEAR FRIEND,--I send you enclosed an ostensible letter, conformably\nto your desire. I think, however, your scruples groundless. Was Mallet\nany wise hurt by his publication of Lord Bolingbroke? He received an\noffice afterwards from the present king and Lord Bute, the most prudish\nmen in the world; and he always justified himself by his sacred regard\nto the will of a dead friend. At the same time, I own that your scruples\nhave a specious appearance. But my opinion is, that if upon my death you\ndetermine never to publish these papers, you should leave them sealed up\nwith my brother and family, with some inscription that you reserve to\nyourself the power of reclaiming them whenever you think proper. If I\nlive a few years longer, I shall publish them myself. I consider an\nobservation of Rochefoucault, that a wind, though it extinguishes a\ncandle, blows up a fire.\n\n\"You may be surprised to hear me talk of living years, considering the\nstate you saw me in, and the sentiments which both I and all my friends\nat Edinburgh entertained on that subject. But though I cannot come up\nentirely to the sanguine notions of our friend John, I find myself very\nmuch recovered on the road, and I hope Bath waters and farther journeys,\nmay effect my cure.\n\n\"By the little company I have seen, I find the town very full of your\nbook, which meets with general approbation. Many people think particular\npoints disputable; but this you certainly expected. I am glad that I am\none of the number; as these points will be the subject of future\nconversation between us. I set out for Bath, I believe, on Monday, by\nSir John Pringle's directions, who says, that he sees nothing to be\napprehended in my case. If you write to me (hem! hem!) I say if you\nwrite to me, send your letter under cover to Mr. Strahan, who will have\nmy direction.\"[492:1]\n\n\nThe \"ostensible letter\" which was to serve as Smith's justification, if\nhe should decline to follow the injunctions of the will, is as\nfollows:--\n\n\n\"_London, 3d May, 1776._\n\n\"MY DEAR SIR,--After reflecting more maturely on that article of my will\nby which I left you the disposal of all my papers, with a request that\nyou should publish my 'Dialogues concerning Natural Religion,' I have\nbecome sensible that, both on account of the nature of the work, and of\nyour situation, it may be improper to hurry on that publication. I\ntherefore take the present opportunity of qualifying that friendly\nrequest. I am content to leave it entirely to your discretion, at what\ntime you will publish that piece, or whether you will publish it at all.\n\n\"You will find among my papers a very inoffensive piece, called \"my own\nLife,\" which I composed a few days before I left Edinburgh; when I\nthought, as did all my friends, that my life was despaired of. There can\nbe no objection, that the small piece should be sent to Messrs. Strahan\nand Cadell, and the proprietors of my other works, to be prefixed to any\nfuture edition of them.\"[493:1]\n\n\nSmith did not absolutely refuse to edit the \"Dialogues,\" but Hume saw\npretty clearly that it was a task that would not be performed by him.\nThat he was correct in this supposition, appears by a letter from Smith\nto Strahan after Hume's death, where he says:\n\n\"I once had persuaded him to leave it entirely to my discretion either\nto publish them at what time I thought proper, or not to publish them at\nall. Had he continued of this mind, the manuscript should have been most\ncarefully preserved, and upon my decease restored to his family; but it\nnever should have been published in my lifetime. When you have read it,\nyou will perhaps think it not unreasonable to consult some prudent\nfriend about what you ought to do.\"[494:1]\n\nBy a codicil to his will, dated 7th August, he thus altered the\narrangement referred to in these letters. \"In my later will and\ndisposition, I made some destinations with regard to my manuscripts: All\nthese I now retract, and leave my manuscripts to the care of Mr. William\nStrahan of London, member of Parliament, trusting to the friendship that\nhas long subsisted between us, for his careful and faithful execution of\nmy intentions. I desire that my 'Dialogues concerning Natural Religion'\nmay be printed and published, any time within two years after my death.\"\nAfter making the bequest to John Home which is mentioned farther on,\nleaving to Blair, Smith, Home, and Edmondstoune, \"all of them persons\nvery dear to me, and whose affection to me I know by repeated proofs to\nhave been mutual,\" each a copy of the new edition of his works, and to\nMiss Ord, ten guineas to buy a ring, \"as a memorial of his friendship\nand attachment to so amiable and accomplished a person,\" the codicil is\nsigned. There is then a new paragraph appended as follows:\n\n\"I do ordain that if my 'Dialogues,' from whatever cause, be not\npublished within two years and a half after my death, as also the\naccount of my life, the property shall return to my nephew, David, whose\nduty in publishing them, as the last request of his uncle, must be\napproved of by all the world.\"[494:2]\n\nBoth Hume and Smith seem to have thought that Strahan would undertake\nthe publication as a mere matter of business. But this book, like the\nlittle hunchback in the \"Arabian Nights,\" was a commodity which every\none seemed anxious to transfer to his neighbour. Strahan declined to\nundertake the task, and the \"Dialogues\" did not appear until 1779, when\nthey were published by their author's nephew.\n\nSmith cheerfully agreed to undertake the superintendance of the new\nedition of his friend's works, then at press. They appear to have been\nall in a state of very finished preparation for the press, and an\nedition of the \"Inquiries\" and the miscellaneous essays was published in\n1777, from a copy in which the author had completed that removal of\npassages of a democratic tendency, which has been so frequently alluded\nto.\n\nBy the entreaties of several friends, who believed that travelling might\nhave a favourable influence on his health, Hume undertook a journey to\nLondon towards the end of April. At Morpeth he met with Adam Smith and\nJohn Home, on their way from London, to visit him in Edinburgh, in\nconsequence of a letter which the former had received from Ferguson, who\nsays, \"David, I am afraid, loses ground. He is cheerful and in good\nspirits as usual; but I confess that my hopes, from the effects of the\nturn of the season towards spring, have very much abated.\"\n\nSmith proceeded to Edinburgh, but Home went back to London with his\nfriend, and fortunately preserved a diary of the journey, so very\ninteresting, and containing so lively a picture of Hume's state of mind\nand habits, that, though already published,[495:1] the reader would not\nexcuse its omission on this occasion.\n\n\n_Note by_ MR. JOHN HOME.\n\n     Soon after Mr. Home received the letter from Dr. Ferguson, he\n     left London, and set out for Scotland with Mr. Adam Smith.\n     They came to Morpeth on the 23d of April, 1776, and would have\n     passed Mr. David Hume, if they had not seen his servant,\n     Colin, standing at the gate of an inn. Mr. Home thinks that\n     his friend, Mr. David Hume, is much better than he expected to\n     find him. His spirits are astonishing: he talks of his\n     illness, of his death, as matters of no moment, and gives an\n     account of what passed between him and his physicians since\n     his illness began, with his usual wit, or with more wit than\n     usual.\n\n     He acquainted Mr. Adam Smith and me, that Dr. Black had not\n     concealed the opinion he had of the desperateness of his\n     condition, and was rather averse to his setting out. \"Have you\n     no reason against it,\" said David, \"but an apprehension that\n     it may make me die sooner?--that is no reason at all.\" I never\n     saw him more cheerful, or in more perfect possession of all\n     his faculties, his memory, his understanding, his wit. It is\n     agreed that Smith shall go on to Scotland, and that I should\n     proceed to Bath with David. We are to travel one stage before\n     dinner, and one after dinner. Colin tells me that he thinks\n     Mr. Hume better than when he left Edinburgh. We had a fine\n     evening as we went from Morpeth to Newcastle. David seeing a\n     pair of pistols in the chaise, said, that as he had very\n     little at stake, he would indulge me in my humour of fighting\n     the highwaymen. Whilst supper was getting ready at the inn,\n     Mr. Hume and I played an hour at picquet. Mr. David was very\n     keen about his card-playing.\n\n\n     _Newcastle, Wednesday, 24th April._\n\n     Mr. Hume not quite so well in the morning--says, that he had\n     set out merely to please his friends; that he would go on to\n     please them; that Ferguson and Andrew Stuart, (about whom we\n     had been talking,) were answerable for shortening his life one\n     week a-piece; for, says he, you will allow Xenophon to be good\n     authority; and he lays it down, that suppose a man is dying,\n     nobody has a right to kill him. He set out in this vein, and\n     continued all the stage in his cheerful and talking humour. It\n     was a fine day, and we went on to Durham--from that to\n     Darlington, where we passed the night.\n\n     In the evening Mr. Hume thinks himself more easy and light,\n     than he has been any time for three months. In the course of\n     our conversation we touched upon the national affairs. He\n     still maintains, that the national debt must be the ruin of\n     Britain; and laments that the two most civilized nations, the\n     English and French, should be on the decline; and the\n     barbarians, the Goths and Vandals of Germany and Russia,\n     should be rising in power and renown. The French king, he\n     says, has ruined the state by recalling the parliaments. Mr.\n     Hume thinks that there is only one man in France fit to be\n     minister, (the Archbishop of Toulouse,) of the family of\n     Brienne. He told me some curious anecdotes with regard to this\n     prelate; that he composed and corrected without writing; that\n     Mr. Hume had heard him repeat an elegant oration of an hour\n     and a quarter in length, which he had never written. Mr. Hume,\n     talking with the Princess Beauvais about French policy, said\n     that he knew but one man in France capable of restoring its\n     greatness; the lady said she knew one too, and wished to hear\n     if it was the same. They accordingly named each their man, and\n     it was this prelate.[497:1]\n\n\n     _Thursday, 25th._\n\n     Left Darlington about nine o'clock, and came to Northallerton.\n     The same delightful weather. A shower fell that laid the dust,\n     and made our journey to Boroughbridge more pleasant. Mr. Hume\n     continues very easy, and has a tolerable appetite; tastes\n     nothing liquid but water, and sups upon an egg. He assured me,\n     that he never possessed his faculties more perfectly; that he\n     never was more sensible of the beauties of any classic author\n     than he was at present, nor loved more to read. When I am not\n     in the room with him he reads continually. The post-boys can\n     scarcely be persuaded to drive only five miles an hour, and\n     their horses are of the same way of thinking! The other\n     travellers, as they pass, look into the chaise, and laugh at\n     our slow pace. This evening the post-boy from Northallerton,\n     who had required a good deal of threatening to make him drive\n     as slow as we desired, had no sooner taken his departure to go\n     home, than he set off at full speed. \"_Pour se d\u00e9dommager_,\"\n     said David.\n\n\n     _Friday, 26th, Boroughbridge._\n\n     Mr. Hume this morning not quite so well. He observes, and I\n     see it, that he has a good day and a bad one. His illness is\n     an internal hemorrhage, which has been wasting him for a long\n     time. He is so thin that he chooses to have a cushion under\n     him when he sits upon an ordinary chair. He told me to-day,\n     that if Louis XV. had died in the time of the regency, the\n     whole French nation were determined to bring back the King of\n     Spain to be King of France,--so zealous were they for\n     preserving the line of succession. This evening Mr. Hume not\n     quite so well, and goes to bed at a more early hour than he\n     used to do.\n\n\n     _Ferrybridge, Sunday, 28th._\n\n     Mr. Hume much better this morning. He told me, that the French\n     nation had no great opinion of Cardinal Fleury; that the\n     English had extolled him, in opposition to their own minister\n     Sir Robert Walpole; but that Fleury was a little genius, and a\n     cheat. Lord Marischal acquainted Mr. Hume with a piece of\n     knavery which his lordship said nobody but a Frenchman and a\n     priest could have been guilty of. The French ambassador at\n     Madrid came to Lord Marischal one day, and told him, that he\n     had a letter from the French minister at Petersburgh,\n     acquainting him that General Keith was not pleased with his\n     situation in Russia, and wished to return to the Spanish\n     service, (where he had formerly been;) that it would be proper\n     for Lord Marischal to apply to the court of Spain. Lord\n     Marischal said nothing could be more agreeable to him than to\n     have his brother in the same country with him; but that, as he\n     had heard nothing from himself, he could not make any\n     application in his name. The French minister still urged him\n     to write to the Spanish minister, but in vain. When the\n     brothers met, several years after, they explained this matter.\n     Keith had never any intention of coming into the Spanish\n     service again; and if Lord Marischal had applied to the court\n     of Spain, measures were taken to intercept the letter, and\n     send it to the court of Russia. General Keith, who commanded\n     the Russian army in the field against the Swedes, would have\n     been arrested, and sent to Siberia; and the moment he had left\n     the army, the Swedes were to attack the Russians. Mr. Hume\n     told me, talking of Fleury, that Monsieur Trudent,[499:1] who\n     was his el\u00e9ve, acquainted him with an anecdote of that\n     minister and the late French king, which he, Mr. Hume,\n     believes Trudent had never ventured to tell to any body but\n     him; and he (David) had never told it to any body but me. Now,\n     since Fleury, Trudent, and Lewis, are all dead, it may be\n     told. Trudent took the liberty of observing to Fleury, that\n     the king should be advised to apply a little more to business,\n     and take some charge of his own affairs. Fleury, the first\n     time Trudent spoke to him upon this subject, made him no\n     answer; but upon his speaking again on the same subject, he\n     told him, that he had entreated the king to be a man of\n     business, and assured him that the French did not like an\n     inactive prince; that in former times, there had been a race\n     of indolent princes who did nothing at all, and were called\n     _Les Rois Fain\u00e9ants_; that one of them had been put into a\n     convent. The king made no reply; but some time afterwards,\n     when Fleury resumed the subject, the king asked him, whether\n     or no the prince that was put into the convent had a good\n     pension allowed him?[499:2]\n\n     Mr. Hume this day told me, that he had bought a piece of\n     ground; and when I seemed surprised that I had never heard of\n     it, he said it was in the New Church-yard, on the Calton Hill,\n     for a burying-place; that he meant to have a small monument\n     erected, not to exceed in expense one hundred pounds; that the\n     inscription should be\n\n          DAVID HUME.\n\n     I desired him to change the discourse. He did so; but seemed\n     surprised at my uneasiness, which he said was very\n     nonsensical. I think he is gaining ground; but he laughs at\n     me, and says it is impossible; that the year ('76,) sooner or\n     later, he takes his departure. He is willing to go to Bath, or\n     travel during the summer through England, and return to\n     Scotland to die at home; but that Sir John Pringle, and the\n     whole faculty, would find it very difficult to boat him,\n     (formerly an usual phrase in Scotland for going abroad, that\n     is, out of the island, for health.) This day we travelled by\n     his desire three stages, and arrived with great ease at\n     Grantham.\n\n\n     _Monday, 29th._\n\n     From the treatment Mr. Hume met with in France, he recurred to\n     a subject not unfrequent with him--that is, the design to ruin\n     him as an author, by the people that were ministers, at the\n     first publication of his History, and called themselves Whigs,\n     who, he said, were determined not to suffer truth to be told\n     in Britain. Amongst many instances of this, he told me one\n     which was new to me. The Duke of Bedford, (who afterwards\n     conceived a great affection for Mr. Hume,) by the suggestions\n     of some of his party friends, ordered his son, Lord Tavistock,\n     not to read Mr. Hume's History of England; but the young man\n     was prevailed upon by one of his companions (Mr. Crawford of\n     Errol) to disobey the command. He read the History, and was\n     extremely pleased with it.\n\n     Mr. Hume told me, that the Duke de Choiseul, at the time Lord\n     Hertford was in France, expressed the greatest inclination for\n     peace, and a good correspondence between France and Britain.\n     He assured Lord Hertford, that if the court of Britain would\n     relinquish Falkland Island, he would undertake to procure from\n     the court of Spain the payment of the Manilla ransom. Lord\n     Hertford communicated the proposal to Mr. Grenville, who\n     slighted it. Lord Hertford told Mr. Hume the same day an\n     extraordinary instance of the violence of faction. Towards the\n     end of Queen Anne's reign, when the Whig ministers were turned\n     out of all their places at home, and the Duke of Marlborough\n     still continued in the command of the army abroad, the\n     discarded ministers met, and wrote a letter, which was signed\n     by Lord Somers, Lord Townshend, Lord Sunderland, and Sir\n     Robert Walpole, desiring the duke to bring over the troops he\n     could depend on, and that they would seize the queen's person,\n     and proclaim the Elector of Hanover Regent. The Duke of\n     Marlborough answered the letter, and said it was madness to\n     think of such a thing. Mr. Horace Walpole, Sir R. Walpole's\n     youngest son, confirmed the truth of this anecdote, which he\n     had heard his father repeat often and often; and Mr. Walpole\n     allowed Mr. Hume to quote him as his authority, and make what\n     use he pleased of it. When George I. came to England, he\n     hesitated whether to make a Whig or a Tory administration; but\n     the German minister, Bernstorf, determined him to take the\n     side of the Whigs, who had made a purse of thirty thousand\n     guineas, and given it to this German. George I. was of a\n     moderate and gentle temper.--He regretted all his life, that\n     he had given way to the violence of the Whigs in the beginning\n     of his reign. Whenever any difficulty occurred in parliament,\n     he used to blame the impeachment of the Tories,--\"Ce diable de\n     impeachment,\" as he called it.\n\n     The Whigs, in the end of Queen Anne's reign, bribed the\n     Emperor's ministers, not to consent to the peace, and to send\n     over Prince Eugene with proposals to continue the war.\n\n     This anecdote from Lord Bath. Another anecdote Mr. Hume\n     mentioned, but distrusted the authority, for it was David\n     Mallet who told Mr. Hume, that he had evidence in his custody\n     of a design to assassinate Lord Oxford.\n\n     Prior, after the accession, was reduced to such poverty by the\n     persecution he met with, that he was obliged to publish his\n     works by subscription. Lord Bathurst told Mr. Hume, that he\n     was with Prior reading the pieces that were to be published,\n     and he thought there was not enough to make two small volumes.\n     He asked Prior if he had no more poems? He said, No more that\n     he thought good enough.--\"What is that,\" said Bathurst,\n     pointing to a roll of paper. \"A trifle,\" said Prior, \"that I\n     wrote in three weeks, not worthy of your attention or that of\n     the public.\" Lord Bathurst desired to see it. This neglected\n     piece was _Alma_.\n\n\n     _Tuesday, 30th._\n\n     Last night, when Mr. Hume was going to bed, he complained of\n     cold. One part of his malady had been a continual heat, so\n     that he could not endure a soft or warm bed, and lay in the\n     night with a single sheet upon him; he desired to have an\n     additional covering. Colin observed to him, that he thought it\n     a good symptom. Mr. Hume said he thought so too, for it was a\n     good thing to be like other people. This morning he is\n     wonderfully well; which is visible in his countenance and\n     colour, and even the firmness of his step. Talking of the\n     state of the nation, which he continually laments, he\n     mentioned an anecdote of the former war. He was at Turin with\n     General Sinclair, after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, and,\n     considering the superiority which the French arms had gained,\n     he could not conceive why France granted such good terms to\n     Britain. He desired General Sinclair to touch upon that\n     subject with the King of Sardinia. That prince, who was very\n     familiar with the General, said he was at a loss to give any\n     account of that matter; but, many years after, when Hume was\n     minister in France, and lived in great intimacy with Monsieur\n     Puysieux, Secretary of State, who had negociated the peace of\n     Aix, Mr. Hume asked him the reason of the conduct of France at\n     that time? Puysieux told him, that it was the king's aversion\n     to war; that he knew more of it than any man alive, for, the\n     year before the peace, he was ordered by the king to propose\n     pretty near the same terms. He remonstrated against making the\n     offer; said that at least the proposal should come from\n     England; and that there was always some advantage to be gained\n     by receiving, rather than propounding terms. The king was\n     impatient, and obliged Puysieux to write the letter, (which\n     General Ligonier carried,) with those terms which next year\n     were agreed to by the British court. Mr. John Home said he\n     knew that the King of France promoted the peace of Paris from\n     the aversion he had to war; and the peace was made at a time\n     when it seemed impossible for Britain to carry on a war of\n     such extent, and retain her scattered conquests. Mr. Hume\n     mentioned another singular anecdote concerning the beginning\n     of the last war. When a squadron of the English fleet attacked\n     and took two French men of war, the Alcide and the Lys, Louis\n     XV. was so averse to war, that he would have pocketed the\n     insult; and Madame Pompadour said it was better to put up with\n     the affront, than to go to war without any object but the\n     point of honour. It is known, that neither the king nor the\n     ministers of England wished for war. The French king abhorred\n     the thought of war!--What then was the cause? Chiefly the fear\n     of the popular clamour, and of the opposition, in the Duke of\n     Newcastle's mind. Mr. Hume thinks Lord North no great\n     minister, but does not see a better; cannot give any reason\n     for the incapacity and want of genius, civil and military,\n     which marks this period. He looks upon the country as on the\n     verge of decline. His fears seem rather too great, and things\n     are not quite so bad as he apprehends; but certainly the first\n     show of statesmen, generals, and admirals, is, without\n     comparison, the worst that has been seen in this country. I\n     said to Mr. Hume, that I thought the great consideration to be\n     acquired by speaking in Parliament, was the cause of that want\n     of every other quality in men of rank: they do speak readily,\n     but there are many orators who can neither judge nor act well.\n\n\n     _Wednesday, 31st April._\n\n     Arrived in London, where we saw Sir John Pringle, who thought\n     Mr. Hume much better than he expected to see him, and in no\n     immediate danger. We staid a few days in London, and then set\n     out for Bath.\n\n     In travelling from London to Bath, we had occasion frequently\n     to make our observations on the passengers whom we met, and on\n     those who passed us, as every carriage continued to do.\n     Nothing occurred worthy the writing down, except Mr. David's\n     plan of managing his kingdom, in case Ferguson and I had been\n     princes of the adjacent states. He knew very well, he said,\n     (having often disputed the point with us,) the great opinion\n     we had of military virtues as essential to every state; that\n     from these sentiments rooted in us, he was certain he would be\n     attacked and interrupted in his projects of cultivating,\n     improving, and civilizing mankind by the arts of peace; that\n     he comforted himself with reflecting, that from our want of\n     economy and order in our affairs, we should be continually in\n     want of money; whilst he would have his finances in excellent\n     condition, his magazines well filled, and naval stores in\n     abundance; but that his final stroke of policy, upon which he\n     depended, was to give one of us a large subsidy to fall upon\n     the other, which would infallibly secure to him peace and\n     quiet, and after a long war, would probably terminate in his\n     being master of all the three kingdoms. At this sally, so like\n     David's manner of playing with his friends, I fell into a fit\n     of laughing, in which David joined; and the people that passed\n     us certainly thought we were very merry travellers.\n\nWe have the following account from his own pen of his sojourn at Bath.\n\n\nHUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.\n\n\"_Bath, 13th May, 1776._\n\n\"MY DEAR DOCTOR,--You have frequently heard me complain of my physical\nfriends, that they allowed me to die in the midst of them without so\nmuch as giving a Greek name to my disorder: a consolation which was the\nleast I had reason to expect from them. Dr. Black, hearing this\ncomplaint, told me that I should be satisfied in that particular, and\nthat my disorder was a hemorrhage, a word which it was easy to decompose\ninto \u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2[504:1] and \u03c1\u03b7\u03b3\u03bd\u03c5\u03bc\u03b9. But Sir John Pringle says, that I\nhave no hemorrhage, but a spincture in the colon, which it will be easy\nto cure. This disorder, as it both contained two Greek appellations and\nwas remediable, I was much inclined to prefer; when, behold! Dr. Gustard\ntells me that he sees no symptoms of the former disorder, and as to the\nlatter, he never met with it and scarcely ever heard of it. He assures\nme that my case is the most common of all Bath cases, to wit, a bilious\ncomplaint, which the waters scarcely ever fail of curing: and he never\nhad a patient of whose recovery he had better hopes.\n\n\"Indeed the waters, in the short trial which I have made of them, (for I\nhave been here only four days,) seem to agree very well with me; and two\ndays ago I found myself so well, that, for the first time, I began to\nentertain hopes of a reprieve. Yesterday I was not so well, from a\nmisunderstanding in new lodgings with regard to my bedding. My\nwhimsicalness in this particular surprises Dr. Gustard, and he knows not\nwhat to make of it. By the by, this Dr. Gustard is an excellent kind of\nman, very friendly, and I believe very intelligent. He assures me, as do\nseveral others, that the summer is the best time for Bath waters: and if\nthey continue to agree with me I shall probably pass here that season. I\npromised to General Conway, and Lady Aylesbury, that if I had recovered\nso much health as to venture myself in company, I should pass some weeks\nof the autumn at Park place. This is the only retardment I can foresee\nto my return to Scotland before winter. My wishes carry me thither;\nthough the grievous loss we have suffered in friends makes the abode in\nthat country less pleasing to my fancy than formerly.\n\n\"You must have heard of the agreeable surprise which John Home put upon\nme. We travelled up to London very cheerfully together, and thence to\nthis place, where we found Mrs. Home almost quite recovered. Never was\nthere a more friendly action, nor better placed; for what between\nconversation and gaming, (not to mention sometimes squabbling,) I did\nnot pass a languid moment; and his company I am certain was the chief\ncause why my journey had so good an effect: of which, however, I suppose\nhe has given too sanguine accounts, as is usual with him.[505:1]\n\n\"Be so good as to read this letter to Dr. Black and to Mr. Ferguson.\nWhen I write to one, I suppose myself writing to all my friends: and I\nalso wish to comprehend the Principal in the number. Pray tell him that\nMrs. Macauley is settled in Bath, and though her muse seems now to be\nmute, she is, if not a more illustrious, yet a more fortunate historian\nthan either of us. There is one Dr. Wilson, a man zealous for liberty,\nwho has made her a free and full present of a house of \u00a32000 value, has\nadopted her daughter by all the rites of Roman jurisprudence, and\nintends to leave her all his fortune, which is considerable.\n\n\"Two ladies of my acquaintance have laid a scheme of bringing Lady\nHuntingdon and me together, for her or my conversion. I wish I may have\nspirits to humour this folly.\"[506:1]\n\n\nOn 10th June, Strahan wrote to Adam Smith, to say that he finds in a\nletter from Sir John Pringle, giving an account of Hume's health, \"that\nall the good symptoms that attended his first trial of the Bath waters\nare now vanished. His distemper has returned with its usual violence, so\nhe intends to leave that place and try Buxton.\"[506:2] He seems not to\nhave attempted this change, but returning straight from Bath, he sent,\non the way, invitations to a party of his friends to meet him at dinner.\nThe note addressed to Dr. Blair is as follows:\n\n\"Mr. John Hume,[506:3] alias Home, alias The Home, alias the late Lord\nConservator, alias the late minister of the gospel at Athelstaneford,\nhas calculated matters so as to arrive infallibly with his friend in St.\nDavid's Street, on Wednesday evening. He has asked several of Dr.\nBlair's friends to dine with him there on Thursday, being the 4th of\nJuly, and begs the favour of the Doctor to make one of the\nnumber.\"[507:1]\n\nThus did this knot of men, united in friendship by the greatness of\ntheir talents, and their superiority to all things small and mean, meet\nfor the last time round the social board, to bid, as it were, a farewell\nto him who had been the chief ornament and distinction of their circle.\nThe eyes of these affectionate friends sedulously and anxiously watched\nthe expiring flame--their pens have recorded the last scenes of its\nexistence, and leave to the ordinary biographer only the task of\nembodying their statements in deferential silence. Nothing, therefore,\nremains, but to put together, along with the few remaining letters by\nHume himself, the accounts furnished us by those who had the best means\nof knowing the manner in which he spent the last few days of his life.\n\nThe following is his last letter to John Home.\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 6th August, 1776._\n\n\"MY DEAR JOHN,--I shall begin with telling you the only piece of good\nnews of the family, which is, that my nephew, in no more than two days\nthat he has staid here, has recovered so surprisingly, that he is\nscarcely knowable, or rather is perfectly knowable, for he was not so on\nhis first arrival.[508:1] Such are the advantages of youth! His uncle\ndeclines, if not with so great rapidity, yet pretty sensibly. Sunday,\nill; half of yesterday the same; easy at present; prepared to suffer a\nlittle to-morrow; perhaps less the day after. Dr. Black says, I shall\nnot die of a dropsy, as I imagined, but of inanition and weakness. He\ncannot, however, fix, with any probability, the time, otherwise he would\nfrankly tell me.\n\n\"Poor Edmondstoune and I parted to-day, with a plentiful effusion of\ntears; all those _Belzebubians_[508:2] have not hearts of iron. I hope\nyou met with every thing well at Foggo, and receive nothing but good\nnews from Buxton. In spite of Dr. Black's caution, I venture to foretel\nthat I shall be yours cordially and sincerely till the month of October\nnext.\"[508:3]\n\n\nNext in date is the following affectionate and considerate letter to\nhis nephew.\n\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 15th August, 1776._\n\n\"DEAR DAVY,--You need not doubt but your company, as well as your\nfather's, would have been very agreeable to me, especially at present,\nfor the consolation of your company; but I see the immediate\ninconveniences that attend it. You cannot be well spared from Josey,\nwhose state of health, I am sorry to find, is still somewhat precarious;\nand there is no immediate call for your being here. For besides that you\nwould but pass a melancholy time with me, however your affection might\ncover it and relieve it, I am weakening very gradually, and am not\nthreatened with any immediate incident. I shall probably have more\nwarning, in which case I shall not fail to summon you; and I shall never\ndie in satisfaction without embracing you. I doubt not but my name would\nhave procured you friends and credit, in the course of your life,\nespecially if my brother had allowed you to carry it, for who will know\nit in the present disguise? But as he is totally obstinate on this head,\nI believe we had better let him alone. I have frequently told him, that\nit is lucky for him he sees few things in a wrong light, for where he\ndoes he is totally incurable. I am very much at my ease to-day. I beg my\ncompliments to all your family. Your affectionate uncle.\"[509:1]\n\n\nOf the manner in which he conducted himself when he had come near to the\nend of his days, Adam Smith tells us:--\n\n     His cheerfulness was so great, and his conversation and\n     amusements run so much in their usual strain, that,\n     notwithstanding all bad symptoms, many people could not\n     believe he was dying. \"I shall tell your friend, Colonel\n     Edmondstoune,\" said Dr. Dundas to him one day, \"that I left\n     you much better, and in a fair way of recovery.\" \"Doctor,\"\n     said he, \"as I believe you would not choose to tell any thing\n     but the truth, you had better tell him, that I am dying as\n     fast as my enemies, if I have any, could wish, and as easily\n     and cheerfully as my best friends could desire.\" Colonel\n     Edmondstoune soon afterwards came to see him, and take leave\n     of him; and on his way home, he could not forbear writing him\n     a letter, bidding him once more an eternal adieu, and applying\n     to him, as to a dying man, the beautiful French verses in\n     which the Abb\u00e9 Chaulieu, in expectation of his own death,\n     laments his approaching separation from his friend, the\n     Marquis de la Fare.[510:1] Mr. Hume's magnanimity and firmness\n     were such, that his most affectionate friends knew that they\n     hazarded nothing in talking or writing to him as to a dying\n     man, and that so far from being hurt by this frankness, he was\n     rather pleased and flattered by it. I happened to come into\n     his room while he was reading this letter, which he had just\n     received, and which he immediately showed me. I told him, that\n     though I was sensible how very much he was weakened, and that\n     appearances were in many respects very bad, yet his\n     cheerfulness was still so great, the spirit of life seemed\n     still to be so very strong in him, that I could not help\n     entertaining some faint hopes. He answered, \"Your hopes are\n     groundless. An habitual diarrh\u0153a of more than a year's\n     standing, would be a very bad disease at any age: at my age it\n     is a mortal one. When I lie down in the evening, I feel myself\n     weaker than when I rose in the morning; and when I rise in the\n     morning, weaker than when I lay down in the evening. I am\n     sensible, besides, that some of my vital parts are affected,\n     so that I must soon die.\" \"Well,\" said I, \"if it must be so,\n     you have at least the satisfaction of leaving all your\n     friends, your brother's family in particular, in great\n     prosperity.\" He said that he felt that satisfaction so\n     sensibly, that when he was reading, a few days before,\n     Lucian's Dialogues of the Dead, among all the excuses which\n     are alleged to Charon for not entering readily into his boat,\n     he could not find one that fitted him; he had no house to\n     finish, he had no daughter to provide for, he had no enemies\n     upon whom he wished to revenge himself. \"I could not well\n     imagine,\" said he, \"what excuse I could make to Charon in\n     order to obtain a little delay. I have done every thing of\n     consequence which I ever meant to do; and I could at no time\n     expect to leave my relations and friends in a better situation\n     than that in which I am now likely to leave them. I therefore\n     have all reason to die contented.\" He then diverted himself\n     with inventing several jocular excuses, which he supposed he\n     might make to Charon, and with imagining the very surly\n     answers which it might suit the character of Charon to return\n     to them. \"Upon further consideration,\" said he, \"I thought I\n     might say to him, 'Good Charon, I have been correcting my\n     works for a new edition. Allow me a little time, that I may\n     see how the public receives the alterations.' But Charon would\n     answer, 'When you have seen the effect of these, you will be\n     for making other alterations. There will be no end of such\n     excuses; so, honest friend, please step into the boat.' But I\n     might still urge, 'Have a little patience, good Charon; I have\n     been endeavouring to open the eyes of the public. If I live a\n     few years longer, I may have the satisfaction of seeing the\n     downfal of some of the prevailing systems of superstition.'\n     But Charon would then lose all temper and decency. 'You\n     loitering rogue, that will not happen these many hundred\n     years. Do you fancy I will grant you a lease for so long a\n     term? Get into the boat this instant, you lazy loitering\n     rogue.'\"\n\n     But, though Mr. Hume always talked of his approaching\n     dissolution with great cheerfulness, he never affected to make\n     any parade of his magnanimity. He never mentioned the subject\n     but when the conversation naturally led to it, and never dwelt\n     longer upon it than the course of the conversation happened to\n     require.[512:1]\n\nHow much his mind continued to be occupied with all that it had taken\ninterest in, in the days of his health and enjoyment, the following\nletter, written five days before his death, will show:--\n\n\nHUME _to the_ COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.\n\n\"_Edinburgh, 20th of August, 1776._\n\n\"THOUGH I am certainly within a few weeks, dear madam, and, perhaps,\nwithin a few days of my own death, I could not forbear being struck with\nthe death of the Prince of Conti--so great a loss in every particular.\nMy reflection carried me immediately to your situation in this\nmelancholy incident. What a difference to you in your whole plan of\nlife! Pray write me some particulars; but in such terms that you need\nnot care, in case of decease, into whose hands your letter may fall.\n\n\"My distemper is a diarrh\u0153a, or disorder in my bowels, which has been\ngradually undermining me these two years; but, within these six months,\nhas been visibly hastening me to my end. I see death approach\ngradually, without any anxiety or regret. I salute you, with great\naffection and regard, for the last time.\"[514:1]\n\n\nSmith, proceeding with his narrative, says, \"He had now become so very\nweak, that the company of his most intimate friends fatigued him; for\nhis cheerfulness was still so great, his complaisance and social\ndisposition were still so entire, that when any friend was with him, he\ncould not help talking more, and with greater exertion, than suited the\nweakness of his body. At his own desire, therefore, I agreed to leave\nEdinburgh, where I was staying, partly upon his account, and returned to\nmy mother's house here, at Kirkaldy, upon condition that he would send\nfor me whenever he wished to see me; the physician who saw him most\nfrequently, Dr. Black, undertaking, in the mean time, to write me,\noccasionally, an account of the state of his health.\n\n\"On the 22d of August, the Doctor wrote me the following letter:--\n\n\"'Since my last, Mr. Hume has passed his time pretty easily, but is much\nweaker. He sits up, goes down stairs once a-day, and amuses himself with\nreading, but seldom sees any body. He finds that even the conversation\nof his most intimate friends fatigues and oppresses him; and it is happy\nthat he does not need it, for he is quite free from anxiety, impatience,\nor low spirits, and passes his time very well with the assistance of\namusing books.'\n\n\"I received, the day after, a letter from Mr. Hume himself, of which the\nfollowing is an extract.\n\n\n'_Edinburgh 23d August, 1776._\n\n'MY DEAREST FRIEND,--I am obliged to make use of my nephew's hand in\nwriting to you, as I do not rise to-day. . . . . . . .\n\n'I go very fast to decline, and last night had a small fever, which I\nhoped might put a quicker period to this tedious illness; but,\nunluckily, it has, in a great measure, gone off. I cannot submit to your\ncoming over here on my account, as it is possible for me to see you so\nsmall a part of the day; but Doctor Black can better inform you\nconcerning the degree of strength which may, from time to time, remain\nwith me. Adieu,' &c.[515:1]\n\n\"Three days after I received the following letter from Doctor Black:--\n\n     '_Edinburgh, Monday, 26th August, 1776._\n\n     'DEAR SIR,--Yesterday, about four o'clock, afternoon, Mr. Hume\n     expired. The near approach of his death became evident in the\n     night between Thursday and Friday, when his disease became\n     excessive, and soon weakened him so much that he could no\n     longer rise out of his bed. He continued, to the last,\n     perfectly sensible, and free from much pain or feelings of\n     distress. He never dropped the smallest expression of\n     impatience; but, when he had occasion to speak to the people\n     about him, always did it with affection and tenderness. I\n     thought it improper to write to you to bring you over,\n     especially as I heard that he had dictated a letter to you\n     desiring you not to come. When he became very weak, it cost\n     him an effort to speak; and he died in such a happy composure\n     of mind that nothing could exceed it.'\"\n\nThe world is fortunately in possession of an account of this event, by\nanother scientific man of no less eminence, the great Dr. Cullen. From a\nletter which he wrote to Dr. Hunter, on 17th September, the following\nextracts are made:\n\n     You desire an account of Mr. Hume's last days, and I give it\n     you with some pleasure; for, though I could not look upon him\n     in his illness without much concern, yet the tranquillity and\n     pleasantry which he constantly discovered did, even then, give\n     me satisfaction; and, now that the curtain is dropped, allows\n     me indulge the less alloyed reflection. It was truly an\n     example \"des grands hommes qui sont morts en\n     plaisantant;\"[516:1] and to me, who have been so often shocked\n     with the horrors of the superstitious on such occasions, the\n     reflexion on such a death is truly agreeable. For many weeks\n     before his death, he was very sensible of his gradual decay;\n     and his answer to inquiries after his health was, several\n     times, that he was going as fast as his enemies could wish,\n     and as easily as his friends could desire. He was not,\n     however, without a frequent recurrence of pain and uneasiness;\n     but he passed most part of the day in his drawing-room,\n     admitted the visits of his friends, and with his usual spirit\n     conversed with them upon literature, politics, or whatever\n     else was accidentally started. In conversation he seemed to be\n     perfectly at ease, and to the last abounded with that\n     pleasantry, and those curious and entertaining anecdotes,\n     which ever distinguished him. This, however, I always\n     considered rather as an effort to be agreeable, and he at\n     length acknowledged that it became too much for his strength.\n     For a few days before his death, he became more averse to\n     receive visits; speaking became more and more difficult for\n     him; and, for twelve hours before his death, his speech failed\n     altogether. His senses and judgment did not fail till the last\n     hour of his life. He constantly discovered a strong\n     sensibility to the attention and care of his friends, and,\n     amidst great uneasiness and languor, never betrayed any\n     peevishness or impatience. . . . . .[516:2]\n\n     These are a few particulars, which may perhaps appear\n     trifling, but to me no particulars seem trifling that relate\n     to so great a man. It is perhaps from trifles that we can best\n     distinguish the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the\n     philosopher, at a time when the most part of mankind are under\n     disquiet, anxiety, and sometimes even horror. I consider the\n     sacrifice of the cock as a more certain evidence of the\n     tranquillity of Socrates, than his discourse on\n     immortality.[517:1]\n\nThe death and burial of so distinguished a fellow citizen, were\nnaturally the objects of much attention among the inhabitants of\nEdinburgh. On the one hand his unpopular opinions; on the other, the\nblameless character of his life and his great genius, excited\nconflicting opinions, and these giving zest to public attention and\ncuriosity, attracted crowds to witness his funeral, and to look with\nmingled feelings, on the spot where his remains were, by the injunctions\nof his will, deposited.[517:2]\n\nOn the declivity of the Calton Hill there is an old grave-yard, which\nseventy years ago was in the open country beyond the boundary of the\ncity of Edinburgh, and even at the present day, when it is the centre of\na wide circumference of streets and terraces, has an air of solitude,\nfrom its elevated site, and the abrupt rocky banks that separate it from\nthe crowded thoroughfares. There, on a conspicuous point of rock,\nbeneath a circular monument built after the simple and solemn fashion of\nthe old Roman tombs, lies the dust of David Hume. Whither the immortal\nspirit that gave life to it is gone, let no man too presumptuously\npronounce; but let us rather contemplate with respectful awe, that\nunseen essence which the Deity had imbued with so great a power over the\nintellects of men, and believe that this wide sway over the destinies of\nthe human species had its own wise and beneficent design, and was no\nproduce of malign influences or untoward accidents. Fallacies may be the\nbrilliant insects of a day, but truth is eternal; and when the searcher\nin philosophy groping amid the darkness of man's imperfect reason,\nproduces falsehoods, they are speedily forgotten; but if he develop\ngreat truths, they live to bless his species for ever. There are few who\nwill now deny that mankind have learned many valuable truths of David\nHume. The wide influence of his mind over thought and action, during the\nlast hundred years, is expressed in the mere naming of the systems of\nwhich he was the author or suggester.\n\nHis Metaphysical labours gave birth to two great schools of philosophy.\nThe one rising at his own door, endeavoured by powerful and earnest\nefforts to reconstruct in a more rational and substantial form the old\nsystem which he had sapped--the other in a distant land, where new\nlights of science had begun to burn, sought to raise mental philosophy\nfrom its original elements, purified of the dross and rubbish that had\nrendered the old materials cumbrous and unsafe, and to endow the whole\nwith fresh life and a new form and structure.[519:1]\n\nIn Ethics he was the first to make an Utilitarian morality assume the\naspect of a theoretical system, which it was the task of a great\nsuccessor, aided by subordinate labourers, to apply to the practical\noperations of mankind, and to spread widely over the earth.\n\nIn History he was the first to divert attention from wars, treaties, and\nsuccessions, to the living progress of the people, in all that increases\ntheir civilization and their happiness. The example thus set has been\nthe chief service of the \"History of England;\" yet, with all the faults\nof its matter, its purely literary merits have been so great, that, as a\nclassical and popular work, it has hitherto encountered no rival.[519:2]\n\nBut his triumphs in Political Economy are those which, in the present\nday, stand forth with the greatest prominence and lustre. In no long\ntime, a hundred years will have elapsed from the day when Hume told the\nworld, what the legislature of this country is now declaring, that\nnational exclusiveness in trade was as foolish as it was wicked; that no\nnation could profit by stopping the natural flood of commerce between\nitself and the rest of the world; that commercial restrictions deprive\nthe nations of the earth \"_of that free communication and exchange,\nwhich the author of the world has intended by giving them soils,\nclimates, and geniuses, so different from each other_;\" and that, like\nthe healthy circulation of the blood in living bodies, Free Trade is the\nvital principle by which the nations of the earth are to become united\nin one harmonious whole.[520:1] Those who, with a reverential eye, have\nmarked the wonders of the animal structure, and discovered beauty,\nutility, and harmonious purpose, where presumptuous ignorance has found\nuselessness or deformity; or have seen the lower animals, each working\nin its own blind ignorance, gregariously constructing a fabric more\nperfect, on philosophical principles, than human science can\ncreate,--have thence drawn vivid pictures of the wisdom and goodness\nwith which the world is ordered. May we not extend this harmony to the\nsocial economy of the globe, and say, that the spirit of activity and\nenterprise, harmonizing with the dispersal of the different bounties of\nProvidence in the distant regions of the globe, are part of the same\nharmonious system; that the love of commerce and the desire of\naggrandisement, which in the eye of a narrow philosophy assume the air\nof selfish and repulsive passions, represent themselves, when they are\nleft to their legitimate course, as motives implanted in us for the\ngreat purposes of securing mutual dependance and kind offices, and their\nfruits, peace and good-will, throughout the great family of mankind. To\nbe the first to teach that the earth is not doomed to the eternal curse\nof rivalry and strife, and to open up so wide a prospect of beneficence,\nmay be an atonement for many errors, and in the eye of good taste may\njustify the brief assumption of conscious superiority, in which the\nsubject of this memoir indulged, when he desired that the inscription on\nhis monument should contain only his name, with the year of his birth\nand of his death. _Leaving it to posterity to add the rest._\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[439:1] Account of Home, p. 20.\n\n[441:1] It has been said that, having once given a guinea by mistake to\na beggar, the man, who was a respectable member of his trade, returned\nand explained the mistake. He was permitted to keep the coin, the\nphilosopher observing, \"Oh, Honesty--how poor a dwelling-place hast thou\nfound!\"\n\n[444:1] Account of John Home, p. 20-21.\n\n[445:1] See, on this amusement of character drawing, vol. i. p. 226.\n\n[446:1] Lives of the Lindsays. By Lord Lindsay. Vol. ii. p. 183.\n\n[449:1] Among the traditional anecdotes of his habits, one is, that\ngoing to sup with Mrs. Cockburn, and not arriving until after the choice\nof the good things had been consumed, when some effort was made to cater\nfor him, he said, \"Trouble yourself very little about what you have, or\nhow it appears; you know I am no epicure, but only a glutton.\" Mr.\nChambers says, (Scottish Jests, p. 171,) that he took down this anecdote\nfrom one who was present.\n\nThese literary parties at Mrs. Cockburn's, appear to have been frequent\nand agreeable. A gentleman still living, was present at many of them\nwhen a youth, and particularly recollects one occasion when a tipsy\nrelative of that lady chose to lock the door of the room where the\nwalking habiliments of the guests were preserved. A general borrowing of\narticles of clothing from surrounding neighbours took place, and those\nwhich fell to Hume's lot, happened to produce a peculiarly ludicrous\neffect.\n\n[450:1] It is given without reference to authority, in Prior's Life of\nBurke, vol. i. p. 98.\n\n[450:2] In one instance, a vivid recollection was preserved of the\ndifficulty, from his fatness, of getting sufficient room on his knee,\nand the necessity of keeping fast hold of the corner of his laced\nwaistcoat.\n\n[452:1] He seems, from this and other notices, to have been occasionally\nabsent in his habits; but there is no such collection of practical\nillustrations of this failing, as we possess in the case of Smith and\nothers. I only remember having heard of one trifling instance, of which\nI had an account from an eye-witness. Hume had been dining with Dr.\nJardine, and there had been much conversation about \"internal light.\" In\ndescending the stair leading from the Doctor's \"flat,\" when he left the\nparty, Hume failed to observe that after so many flights which reached\nthe street door, there was, according to a not uncommon practice,\nanother flight of stairs leading to the cellars. He continued his\ndescent, accordingly, till the very end, where some time afterwards he\nwas found in extreme darkness and perplexity, wondering how it was that\nhe could find no outlet. The circumstance bore rather curiously on some\nopinions he had been maintaining, and Jardine said, shaking his head,\n\"Oh David! where is your internal light?\"\n\n[452:2] Diary of a Lover of Literature.--_Gentleman's Magazine_, N.S. i.\n142.\n\n[455:1] The passage here omitted will be found above, vol. i. p. 97.\n\n[455:2] MS. R.S.E. In citing this letter above, vol. i. p. 98, it is\nstated that on one MS. there is noted a supposition that it was\naddressed to Dr. Traill--on another that it was addressed to Gilbert\nStuart. I now think it must have been addressed to Dr. John Stewart,\nProfessor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, and that\nit related to his \"Remarks on the Laws of Motion and the Inertion of\nMatter,\" published in \"Essays and Observations physical and literary,\nread before a Society in Edinburgh.\"\n\n[457:1] Minute-book of The Poker Club, in possession of Sir Adam\nFerguson.\n\n[459:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[461:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[461:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[461:3] Of the East India Company's service, author of \"The History of\nHindostan, translated from the Persian,\" 1803.\n\n[462:1] _Edinburgh Monthly Magazine_, Sept. 1810.\n\n[465:1] See above, p. 220.\n\n[465:2] _Edinburgh Magazine_, 1788, p. 340.\n\n[466:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[467:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[467:2] Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland, from the dissolution of\nthe last parliament of Charles II. until the sea battle of La Hogue, 3\nvols. 4to.\n\n[467:3] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[468:1] William Smellie, the respectable printer of the Magazine, seems\nto have led an uneasy life, between the quarrels and the dissipation of\nhis editor, of which he has left some picturesque memorials. Having come\none night to Smellie's house on magazine business in a very advanced\nstage of intoxication, Stuart was charitably put to bed. Roused in the\nmiddle of the night by an immense outcry from the awakened editor,\nSmellie rushed to the bedroom in his night clothes. Stuart sitting up in\nbed and glaring around him, immediately associated the respectable\nprinter's presence with the places in which he was himself accustomed to\nwaken, and said,--\"Smellie, I never expected to find _you_ in such a\nplace: put on your clothes, and go back to your wife and family, I shall\nnever say a word about this.\" A journey of six miles, from Edinburgh to\nMusselburgh, made by Stuart and some of his companions, in which, by\nreason of the abundance of good cheer on the way, they occupied several\ndays, seems to have been fruitful in adventures. One of the party\nfalling asleep among the ashes of a steam engine, wakened in the night,\nand found himself in the presence of a great red furnace, surrounded by\ndusky figures clanging bolts and chains. Associating the exhibition with\nthe course of life he had been running, and its probable reward, he was\nheard to exclaim, \"Good God, is it come to this at last!\"--See _Kerr's\nMemoirs of Smellie_.\n\n[470:1] D'Israeli's Calamities of Authors, ii. 67. The letter, after\nsuch exhortations as the following,--\"Strike by all means: the wretch\nwill tremble, grow pale, and return with a consciousness of his\ndebility,\" winds up with the assurance, \"When you have an enemy to\nattack, I shall in return give my best assistance, and aim at him a\nmortal blow, and rush forward to his overthrow, though the flames of\nhell should start up to oppose me.\"\n\n[470:2] The _proof_, with Hume's corrections, is in the possession of\nJohn Christison, Esq., who has kindly allowed me to make this use of it.\nThe last paragraph is a manuscript addition made in correcting the\nproof. The substance of Hume's praise was probably given to Henry in\nsome other form; for a portion of the analytical part of the review is\nprinted in a memoir of Henry, in _The Gentleman's Magazine_, (vol. lxxi.\np. 907,) as written by \"one of the most eminent historians of the\npresent age, whose history of the same period possesses the highest\nreputation.\"\n\n[471:1] Madame Geoffrin, in writing to Hume, notices Franklin's\nimperfect acquaintance with the French language; this must have been one\nof the difficulties which his matchless perseverance conquered.\n\nI may mention that, aware that Hume had written to Franklin, I thought\nit not unlikely that the letters might be incorporated in the elaborate\nedition of his \"Life and Correspondence\" by Sparkes. Unfortunately\ntrusting to the copy in the British Museum, I found, at the last moment,\nthat that copy was imperfect, and did not afford the means of\nascertaining whether they were published in the work.\n\n[471:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[472:1] A specimen of the _Scots Review_, a thin duodecimo pamphlet, is\nnow very rare. Its chief object of attention is \"that great necromancer\nand magician David Hume.\" It is not inaptly described by the _Scots\nMagazine_:--\n\n\"It professes to give a prospectus, and a specimen of an intended new\nreview; but the whole object seems to have been to laugh at some\nindividuals obnoxious to the writer, and particularly to ridicule the\nvirulence, and to lower the pretensions of those who had signalized\nthemselves by their attacks upon the philosophical writings of Mr. Hume;\na promise is held out, that this arch-infidel is himself to be reviewed\nin the first place; and next, those authors who have waged a holy war\nagainst him; of whom a list is given, with their characters, the\ndelineation of which, in no very favourable colours, appears, as already\nmentioned, to have exhausted the main object of the piece, though one or\ntwo gentle hits are aimed at the historian himself.\"\n\n[472:2] Rev. Thomas Hepburn, minister of Athelstaneford.\n\n[472:3] _Scots Mag._ New Series. Vol. i.\n\n[473:1] Original in possession of the Cambusmore family.\n\n[474:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[474:2] Addressed, \"Mr. David Hume, at Ninewells, with a great coat.\"\n\n[474:3] Professor Millar of Glasgow.\n\n[475:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[476:1] Mackenzie's account of Home, p. 158.\n\n[477:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[477:2] Strahan's letters were carefully preserved by Hume. On\napplication to those who would be likely to possess Hume's side of the\ncorrespondence, if it existed, I was informed that it was Mr. Strahan's\npractice to destroy all the letters addressed to him; but I was very\npolitely favoured with a copy of one of his own letters, which Mr.\nStrahan had preserved.\n\n[478:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[479:1] _Lit. Gazette_, 1822, p. 637. Corrected from original MS. R.S.E.\n\n[482:1] MS. R.S.E. Addressed, \"Mr. David Hume, at Mr. Professor\nMillar's, at Glasgow.\" The blanks are caused by a stripe having been\ntorn off the side of the letter.\n\n[483:1] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 160.\n\n[484:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[485:1] Life of Gibbon.\n\n[486:1] From this it would appear that Hume had opened up in his own\nmind, the theory of rent, afterwards successively suggested by Dr.\nAnderson and Ricardo, without the latter, it is believed, knowing that\nhe had been anticipated by the author of the _Bee_.\n\n[487:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[488:1] The letter is of such a character, as one medical man might be\nsupposed to write to another. Black was no pedant, and he writes as if\nhis correspondent knew the technicalities of the science in their full\npractical meaning,--an addition to the many illustrations of the varied\nrange of scientific knowledge, at the command of the master of political\neconomy.\n\n[489:1] The following provision is in a codicil: \"I also leave for\nrebuilding the bridge of Churnside the sum of a hundred pounds; but on\ncondition that the manager of the bridge shall take none of the stones\nfor building the bridge from the quarry of Ninewells, except from that\npart of the quarry which has been already opened.\" With reference to\nthis, Dr. Cullen, in the letter cited, p. 516, says, \"In the\nneighbourhood of his brother's house, in Berwickshire, is a brook, by\nwhich the access in time of floods is frequently interrupted. Mr. Hume\nbequeaths \u00a3100 for building a bridge over this brook, but upon the\nexpress condition that none of the stones for that purpose shall be\ntaken from a quarry in the neighbourhood, which forms part of a romantic\nscene, in which, in his earlier days, Mr. Hume took particular delight.\"\nThis is the only authenticated instance that I remember to have met with\nof Hume's attachment to local scenery. It is a tradition in Edinburgh,\nthat he was fond of walking along the base of Salisbury Crags.\n\n[490:1] In 1773, Smith, apparently in bad health, wrote to Hume,\ndesiring him to take charge of his manuscripts in case of his own\npredecease, (MS. R.S.E.) This, and some other letters by Smith, I might\nhave been tempted to print in this work, had I not the satisfaction of\nknowing that they are likely soon to be published under the auspices of\nLord Brougham.\n\n[490:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[492:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[493:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[494:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[494:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[495:1] In the Appendix to Mackenzie's Account of the Life of Home.\n\n[497:1] It is curious to observe, that the object of this united\nprediction was that same Lom\u00e9nie de Brienne, who was put at the head of\naffairs before the outbreak of the revolution, and who left behind him\nso undisputed a character of utter incapacity to be a statesman in\ndifficult times.\n\n[499:1] Probably M. Trudaine de Montigny, frequently mentioned above,\nwhose son translated Hume's \"Natural History of Religion.\" See above, p.\n167.\n\n[499:2] This anecdote is told nearly in the same words, in one of\nWalpole's posthumous works. Memoirs of George III. vol. ii. p. 240.\n\n[504:1] \u03b1\u03b9\u03bc\u03b1.\n\n[505:1] This paragraph is printed by Mackenzie.\n\n[506:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[506:2] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[506:3] David Hume, as many of his letters must have shown, persisted in\nspelling his friend's name thus. To commemorate this dispute, and Home's\ndislike of port wine, he added this codicil to his will on 7th August:--\n\n\"I leave to my friend Mr. John Home of Kilduff, ten dozen of my old\nclaret, at his choice; and one single bottle of that other liquor called\nport. I also leave to him six dozen of port, provided that he attests\nunder his hand, signed John _Hume_, that he has himself alone finished\nthat bottle at two sittings. By this concession, he will at once\nterminate the only two differences that ever arose between us concerning\ntemporal matters.\" The original is in the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[507:1] Subjoined to the card, there is this note in Dr. Blair's\nhandwriting:--\"_Mem._--This the last note received from Mr. David Hume.\nHe died on the 25th of August, 1776.\"--_Mackenzie's Account of Home._\n\n[508:1] His nephew, Joseph, had just returned from abroad in very bad\nhealth.\n\n[508:2] Colonel Edmondstoune was a member of what was called the Ruffian\nClub; men whose hearts were milder than their manners, and their\nprinciples more correct than their habits of life. _Mackenzie._\n\n[508:3] Mackenzie's Account of Home. On the 13th he wrote thus to his\nbrother:--\n\n\"DEAR BROTHER,--Dr. Black tells me plainly, like a man of sense, that I\nshall die soon, which was no disagreeable news to me. He says I shall\ndie of weakness and inanition, and perhaps give little or no warning.\nBut though I be growing sensibly weaker every day, this period seems not\nto be approaching; and I shall have time enough to inform you, and to\ndesire your company, which will be very agreeable to me. But at this\ntime your presence is necessary at Ninewells, to settle Josey, and\ncomfort his mother. Davie will be also very useful with you. I am much\npleased with his tenderness and friendship. I beg, therefore, that\nneither you nor he may set out; and as the communication between us is\nopen and frequent, I promise to give you timely information.\"--_Lit.\nGaz._ 1822, p. 746. MS. R.S.E.\n\n[509:1] MS. R.S.E.\n\n[510:1] Colonel Edmondstoune's letter has been preserved, and is as\nfollows:--\n\n     \"_Linlithgow, Wednesday._\n\n     \"MY DEAR, DEAR DAVID,--My heart is very full. I could not see\n     you this morning. I thought it was better for us both. You\n     can't die, you must live in the memory of all your friends and\n     acquaintances, and your works will render you immortal. I\n     could never conceive that it was possible for any one to\n     dislike you or hate you. He must be more than savage who could\n     be an enemy to a man of the best head and heart, and of the\n     most amiable manners.\n\n          O toi, qui de mon ame es la ch\u00e8re moiti\u00e9;\n            Toi, qui joins la d\u00e9licatesse\n            Des sentimens d'une maitresse\n          \u00c0 la solidit\u00e9 d'une sure amiti\u00e9,\n          _David_, il faut bien-t\u00f4t que la parque cruelle\n            Vienne rompre des si doux noeuds,\n            Et malgr\u00e9 nos cris et nos voeux\n          Bien-t\u00f4t nous assuirons une absence eternelle.\n\n     Adieu! adieu!\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n[512:1] It is from more, perhaps, than the mere force of contrast,\nthat, after reading this account of the manner in which the dying\nphilosopher's thoughts were occupied,--the spelling of the family name,\nthe imagined interview with Charon, &c. the following letter, addressed\nto him by a distant friend, possesses a peculiarly solemn interest.\n\n\nWILLIAM STRAHAN _to_ HUME.\n\n     \"MY DEAR SIR,--Last Friday I received your affectionate\n     farewell, and therefore melancholy letter, which disabled me\n     from sending an immediate answer to it, as I now do, in hopes\n     this may yet find you, not much oppressed with pain, in the\n     land of the living. I need not tell you, that your corrections\n     are all duly attended to, as every particular shall be that\n     you desire or order. Nor shall I now trouble you with a long\n     letter.\n\n     \"Only permit me to ask you a question or two, to which I am\n     prompted, you will believe me, not from a foolish or fruitless\n     curiosity, but from an earnest desire to learn the sentiments\n     of a man, who had spent a long life in philosophic inquiries,\n     and who, upon the extreme verge of it, seems, even in that\n     awful and critical period, to possess all the powers of his\n     mind in their full vigour, and in unabated tranquillity.\n\n     \"I am more particularly led to give you this trouble, from a\n     passage in one of your late letters, wherein you say, _It is\n     an idle thing in us to be concerned about any thing that shall\n     happen after our death; yet this_, you added, _is natural to\n     all men_. Now I would eagerly ask, if it is _natural to all\n     men_, to be interested in futurity, does not this strongly\n     indicate that our existence will be protracted beyond this\n     life?\n\n     \"Do you _now_ believe, or suspect, that all the powers and\n     faculties of your own mind, which you have cultivated with so\n     much care and success, will cease and be extinguished with\n     your vital breath?\n\n     \"Our soul, or immaterial part of us, some say, is able, when\n     on the brink of dissolution, to take a glimpse of futurity;\n     and for that reason I earnestly wish to have your _last\n     thoughts_ on this important subject.\n\n     \"I know you will kindly excuse this singular application; and\n     believe that I wish you, living or dying, every happiness that\n     our nature is capable of enjoying, either here or hereafter;\n     being, with the most sincere esteem and affection, my dear\n     sir, faithfully yours.\"--MS. R.S.E.\n\n     \"London, _August 19, 1776_.\"\n\nThis letter, if it ever reached him for whom it was designed, must have\ndone so too late to receive an answer. But if he did peruse it, with his\nmind so collected and clear, yet so close on the point of being severed\nfrom those objects of literary ambition which had been its chief glory\nand occupation, how valuable would have been the first thought that\npassed across it, when the great question was brought thus so distinctly\nbefore his understanding!\n\n[514:1] _Edinburgh Review_, xvii. 306.\n\n[515:1] This letter, and Dr. Black's, are in the MSS. R.S.E.\n\n[516:1] In reference to a work so entitled, published at\nAmsterdam.--_Dr. Thomson._\n\n[516:2] The passage here omitted describes the conversation about\nLucian, and other incidents which have been already narrated.\n\n[517:1] Thomson's Life of Cullen, p. 607.\n\n[517:2] In a little book, called \"Supplement to the Life of David Hume,\nEsq.\" there is the following curious statement.\n\n\"The anxious attention with which the public viewed every circumstance\nrespecting Mr. Hume's illness was not terminated even by his death. From\nthe busy curiosity of the mob, one would have presumed them to entertain\nnotions that the ashes of Mr. Hume were to have been the cause or the\nobject of miraculous exertion. As the physicians of London and Edinburgh\nwere divided about the seat of his disorder, those of the city where he\ndied proposed that his body should be opened; but this his brother, who\nwas also his executor, agreeably to the orders of the deceased, would\nnot permit. It is hardly to be credited that the grave-diggers, digging\nwith pick-axes Mr. Hume's grave, should have attracted the gaping\ncuriosity of the multitude; that, notwithstanding a heavy rain which\nfell during the interment, multitudes of all ranks gazed on the funeral\nprocession, as if they had expected the hearse to have been consumed in\nlivid flames, or encircled with a ray of glory; that people in a sphere\nmuch above the rabble would have sent to the sexton for the keys of the\nburying-ground, and paid him to have access to visit the grave. And that\non a Sunday evening, (the gates of the burying-ground being opened for\nanother funeral,) the company from a public walk in the neighbourhood\nflocked in such crowds to Mr. Hume's grave, that his brother actually\nbecame apprehensive upon the unusual concourse, and ordered the grave to\nbe railed in with all expedition.\"\n\n[519:1] On peut dire que Hume est la fant\u00f4me perp\u00e9tuel de Kant. D\u00e8s que\nle philosophe Allemand est tent\u00e9 de faire un pas en arri\u00e8re, dans\nl'ancienne route, Hume lui appara\u00eet et l'en d\u00e9tourne, et tout l'effort\nde Kant est de placer la philosophie entre l'ancien dogmatisme et le\nsensualisme de Locke et de Condillac, a l'abri des attaques du\nscepticisme de Hume.--_Cousin, Le\u00e7ons sur la Philosophie de Kant_, 18.\n\n[519:2] While this sheet is passing through the press, the French\nnewspapers announce a new translation of Hume's History, \"preced\u00e9e d'un\nessai sur la vie et les \u00e9crits de Hume, par Campenon, de l'acad\u00e9mie\nFran\u00e7aise.\"\n\n[520:1] In one of his epistles to the great Frederic, Voltaire says of\nthe distribution of the fruits of the earth:--\n\n     Il murit, \u00e0 Moka, dans le sable Arabique,\n     Ce caff\u00e9 n\u00e9cessaire aux pays des frimats;\n     Il met la fi\u00e8vre en nos climats,\n     Et le rem\u00e8de en Amerique.\n\nBut the policy of the earth's distribution, with many other truths not\nto be at once penetrated, even by the keenest mortal vision, were\nmysteries to the auto-theist, and being so, were therefore to his\nself-sufficient wisdom, absurd and ludicrous. Could that be right of\nwhich the sage of Ferney could not understand the ruling principle!\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\nERRATA.\n\n\nVol. i. p. 361, for _Harrison_ read _Harrington_.\n\nVol. ii. p. 14, in the reference in the note, p. 246, read p. 216.\n\n---- p. 215, for _prot\u00e9g\u00e9_ read _prot\u00e9g\u00e9e_.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:\n\n\nThe following explanation of the different kinds of blockquotes used in\nthis volume can be found on page xiv of Vol. I of this series:\n\n     \"It may be right to explain, that the two sizes of type, used\n     in this work, were first adopted with the design of presenting\n     all letters addressed to Hume, all extracts, and all letters\n     from him with which the public is already familiar, in the\n     smaller type, in order that the reader coming to a document\n     with which he is already acquainted, might see at once where\n     it ends. This arrangement was accidentally broken through,\n     several letters having been printed in the larger that should\n     have appeared in the smaller type.\"[A]\n\n          [A] Burton, John Hill. Life and Correspondence of\n          David Hume.</cite>  Vol. I. Edinburgh: William Tait,\n          1847.\n\nThe following words use an oe ligature in the original:\n\n     coelo\n     coeur\n     diarrhoea\n     Foedera\n     Phoenix\n\nText in French has been preserved as printed.\n\nCorrections listed in the Errata have been made. The Errata is included\nfor completeness.\n\nThe following corrections have been made to the text:\n\n     Page 1: Nationalism--Warburton--Colonel Edmondstoune[original\n     has \"Edmonstoune\"]\n\n     Page 44: and that a man cannot[original has \"connot\"] employ\n     himself\n\n     Page 57: more decisive than he used[original has \"uses\"] to be\n     in its favour\n\n     Page 58: he would put the Duke of Buccleuch[original has\n     \"Buccleugh\"]\n\n     Page 58: conclude with--Your humble servant.[original has\n     extraneous quotation mark]\n\n     Page 84: once entertained thoughts of attempting.[84:1]\n     [Footnote anchor added by transcriber]\n\n     Page 150: the enclosed to Colonel Barr\u00e9[original has \"Barr\u00e8\"]\n\n     Page 160: Some[original has \"some\"] pretend that the present\n\n     Page 167: Madame Dupr\u00e9 de St.[period missing in original] Maur\n     writes\n\n     Page 178: by express order from the D.[178:1][Footnote anchor\n     added by transcriber]\n\n     Page 178: the Comte d'Artois, afterwards Charles[original has\n     \"Charle\"] X.\n\n     Page 192: any civilities you show the Colonel.\"[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\n     Page 197: point vous \u00eates ch\u00e9ri en France.'[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\n     Page 199: Literary classes of the university[original has\n     \"unversity\"]\n\n     Page 202: imprudent for me to lend them to him.[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\n     Page 207: Aristocracy--Madame Geoffrin[original has\n     \"Geofrin\"]--Madame Du Page\n\n     Page 213: Madame le Page du Boccage[original has \"Bocage\"]\n\n     Page 223: \"[quotation mark missing in original]From what has\n     been already said of him\n\n     Page 239: no new ground of attachment to England.\"[quotation\n     mark missing in original]\n\n     Page 243: every body, by which you desire . . . .\"[quotation\n     mark missing in original]\n\n     Page 249: without withdrawing from a friendship[original has\n     \"frendship\"]\n\n     Page 275: sir, your most obedient servant.\"[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\n     Page 282: with whom he and his connexions[original has\n     \"connexious\"] were not\n\n     Pages 308-9: and came to Strasburg,[original has a period]\n     with an intention\n\n     Page 312: [original has extraneous quotation mark]Lisle\n     Street, Leicester Fields\n\n     Page 312: [original has extraneous quotation mark]DEAR\n     DOCTOR,--I had asked M. Rousseau\n\n     Page 325: [original has extraneous quotation mark]_June 16,\n     1766_\n\n     Page 369: de faciliter mon retour d'ici chez vous.[transcriber\n     removed extraneous footnote anchor]\n\n     Page 375: assured that Davenport would receive him.[original\n     has a comma]\n\n     Page 407: I am, dear Sir Gilbert, yours sincerely.\"[quotation\n     mark missing in original]\n\n     Page 421: HUME _to_ DR.[period missing in original] BLAIR.\n\n     Page 426: otherwise it would be multiplied[original has\n     \"mutiplied\"] without\n\n     Page 429: \"[quotation mark missing in original]_Minto, 11th\n     July, 1768._\n\n     Page 429: \"[quotation mark missing in original]I am sorry, my\n     dear sir\n\n     Page 444: Mr.[original has \"Hr.\"] Hume bore with perfect good\n     nature\n\n     Page 446: adding, 'Oh, what an idiot I had nearly proved\n     myself to be, to leave such a document in the hands of a\n     parcel of women!'\"[both single quotes missing in original]\n\n     Page 468: proprietor--it might[original has \"it ght\"] almost\n     be said\n\n     Page 477: for coercive methods with those obstinate[original\n     has \"ohstinate\"] madmen\n\n     Page 484: would have given me[original has \"given m\"] some\n     surprise\n\n     Page 485: I am, with regard,[original has extraneous quotation\n     mark] &c.\n\n     Page 506: may have spirits to humour this folly.\"[quotation\n     mark missing in original]\n\n     Page 507: the Doctor to make one of the number.\"[quotation\n     mark missing in original]\n\n     Page 512: about any thing that shall happen[original has\n     \"hoppen\"]\n\n     Page 523: Aiguillon[original has \"Aguillon\"]--Duchesse de, ii.\n     175.\n\n     Page 523, under \"Alembert--D'\": Hume's friendship with, 218,\n     270, 323, 345, 348, 350, 354, 355, 377, 489[original has\n     \"589\"].\n\n     Page 524: Calton Hill--Hume's monument on, ii.[volume number\n     missing in original] 518.\n\n     Page 525: Conti[original has extraneous comma]--Prince of, ii.\n     90, 221, 246, 297, 307.\n\n     Page 525: Cr\u00e9billon[original has \"Crebillon\"]--His\n     \"L'Ecumoire,\" i. 395; ii. 428.\n\n     Page 525: under \"Cullen&mdash;Dr.\", Letters from, ii. 488,\n     489, 515[original reads \"489, 515; ii. 488\"].\n\n     Page 526: under \"Eugene&mdash;Prince\" His palace, i. 262;\n     ii.[\"ii.\" missing in original] 501.\n\n     Page 526: Fitzroy[original has \"Fitz-roy\"]--Charles, ii. 407.\n\n     Page 526: Gower--Earl[original has \"Lerd\"], i. 305.\n\n     Page 528: under \"Hume--David\", \"Extracts from the Journal of\n     his journey to Italy\", Wurtzburg[original has \"Wurtzburgh\"],\n     252\n\n     Page 528: under \"Hume--David\", Letters from Earl\n     Marischal[original has \"Marishal\"], 104.\n\n     Page 530: Keith&mdash;General, ii.[original has \"i.\"] 498.\n\n     Page 530: Mesnieres[original has \"Mesni\u00e8res\"]--President, ii.\n     177.\n\n     Page 531: Musset Pathay, ii. 322, 325[original has\n     \"322,-325\"], 329, 330.\n\n     Page 533: Vasseur--Th\u00e9r\u00e8se[original has \"Ther\u00e8se\"] le, ii.\n     294, 299, 305, 307, 323, 352, 366, 370.\n\n     [5:2] written by Daniel Macqueen, D.D.,[comma missing in\n     original] the chief object\n\n     [6:1] \"[quotation mark missing in original]_By one who\n     personally knew him._\n\n     [141:1] I desire to be known by that appellation.'[quotation\n     mark missing in original]\n\n     [187:2] Sic[original has extraneous period] in MS.\n\n     [216:1] Ma\u00eetre Janotus de ses chausses.\"[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\n     [221:2] He makes great account of his works[original has\n     \"vorks\"]\n\n     [226:1] (Ib. 130-131.)[closing parenthesis missing in\n     original]\n\n     [226:1] self-satisfied account of the distinctions\n     conferred[original has \"conerred\"]\n\n     [238:1] interest taken by the Comtesse de Boufflers[original\n     has \"Boufilers\"]\n\n     [239:1] methods often hostile, always indelicate[original has\n     \"indolicate\"]\n\n     [301:1] \"[quotation mark missing in original]C'est un des\n     malheurs de ma vie,\" says Rousseau\n\n     [301:1] having been exhibited as a wild beast![original has\n     extraneous quotation mark]\n\n     [309:1] mark of interrogation is in the MS.[original has\n     \"M.S.\"]\n\n     [329:1] expect to meet with a work of the nineteenth[original\n     has \"nineteeth\"] century\n\n     [329:1] one letter from M. Rougemont[original has \"Rougement\"]\n     among the MSS.\n\n     [329:1] \"[quotation mark missing in original]L'opinion que\n     vous avez de M. Rousseau\n\n     [331:1] degree little short of madness.\"[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\n     [421:2] Dr.[period missing in original] Robertson\n\n     [421:2] piddling still about my Lectures.\"[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\n     [452:2] _Gentleman's Magazine_, N.S. i. 142.[period missing in\n     original]\n\n     [472:1] aimed at the historian himself.\"[quotation mark\n     missing in original]\n\nPunctuation has been standardized in the Index.","title":"Life and Correspondence of David Hume, Volume 2","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":182731}