Life and Correspondence of David Hume, Volume 2
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Title: Life and Correspondence of David Hume, Volume 2
Author: John Hill Burton
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LIFE AND
CORRESPONDENCE OF
DAVID HUME.
[Illustration: Portrait of Hume from a Bust]
LIFE
AND
CORRESPONDENCE
OF
DAVID HUME.
FROM THE PAPERS BEQUEATHED BY HIS NEPHEW TO THE
ROYAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH; AND OTHER
ORIGINAL SOURCES.
BY JOHN HILL BURTON, ESQ.
ADVOCATE.
VOLUME II.
EDINBURGH:
WILLIAM TAIT, 107, PRINCE'S STREET.
MDCCCXLVI.
EDINBURGH:
Printed by WILLIAM TAIT, 107, Prince's Street.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME SECOND.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II.
Portrait of Hume from a Bust, _Frontispiece_.
Fac simile of a page of the History of England, Page 79
Fac simile of a letter from Rousseau, 326
CHAPTER X.
1756-1759. ÆT. 45-48.
The second volume of the History of the Stuarts--His Apologies
for his Treatment of Religion--The Four Dissertations--The Two
Suppressed Dissertations--Resigns his Office of Librarian--
Home's Douglas--Commences the History of the Tudors--
Wilkie's Epigoniad--Hume's Nationalism--Warburton--Colonel
Edmondstoune--Dr. Robertson--Negotiations as to Ferguson's
Chair--Hume goes to London--Writes Letters of Fictitious and
Extravagant News--Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments--
Publication of the History of the House of Tudor--General View
of the Constitutional Principles of the History. 1
CHAPTER XI.
1760-1762. ÆT. 49-51.
Alterations of the History in the direction of despotic
Principles--Specimens--Alterations in Style--Specimens--His
Elaboration--Ossian's Poems--Labours at the early part of the
History--Ferguson's "Sister Peg"--Acquaintance with Madame de
Boufflers--Account of that lady--First intercourse with
Rousseau--Rousseau's position--The exiled Earl Marischal--
Campbell and his Dissertation on Miracles. 73
CHAPTER XII.
1762-1763. ÆT. 51-52.
The Publication of the History anterior to the Accession of
the Tudors--Completion of the History--Inquiry how far it is a
complete History--Hume's Intention to write an Ecclesiastical
History--Opinions of Townsend and others on his History--
Appreciation of the Fine Arts--Hume's House in James's Court--
Its subsequent occupation by Boswell and Johnson--Conduct
of David Mallet--Hume's Projects--The Douglas Cause--
Correspondence with Reid. 120
CHAPTER XIII.
1763-1764. ÆT. 52-53.
Lord Hertford's appointment to the French Embassy, and
invitation to Hume to accompany him--Correspondence on the
occasion--Residence in London, and remarks on the Political
Movements of 1763--State of his reputation in France--His
Arrival--Letters to friends at home about his flattering
reception--The young French princes--Observations on eminent
French people--His recommendations to a Clergyman--
Introductions of Fellow Countrymen. 156
CHAPTER XIV.
1764-1765. ÆT. 53-54.
The French and English Society of Hume's day--Reasons of his
warm reception in France--Society in which he moved--Mixture
of lettered men with the Aristocracy--Madame Geoffrin--Madame
Du Page de Boccage--Madame Du Deffand--Mademoiselle De
L'Espinasse--D'Alembert--Turgot--The Prince of Conti--Notices
of Hume among the Parisians--Walpole in Paris--Resumption of
the Correspondence--Hume undertakes the management of Elliot's
sons--Reminiscences of home--Mrs. Cockburn--Adam Smith--Madame
De Boufflers and the Prince of Conti--Correspondence with Lord
Elibank. 207
CHAPTER XIV.[vi:A]
1765-1766. ÆT. 54-55.
Hume's Sentiments as to the Popularity of his works--A letter
to the Scottish Clergy--Correspondence with Elliot continued--
Sir Robert Liston--Mallet--Hume appointed Secretary of
Legation--Chargé d' Affaires at Paris--Proposal to appoint him
Secretary for Ireland--Reasons of the Failure of the Project--
Lord Hertford--Resumption of Communication with Rousseau--
Rousseau in Paris--Notices of his History and Character--
Hume's Solicitude for his welfare--Return to Britain--Disposal
of Rousseau--Death of Jardine. 263
CHAPTER XV.
1766-1767. ÆT. 55-56.
Rousseau at Wooton--Mr. Davenport--Negotiations as to
Rousseau's pension--Origin and rise of his excitement against
Hume--Proper method of viewing the dispute--Incidents
illustrative of Rousseau's state of mind--His charges against
Hume--Smith's opinion--Opinion of the French friends--Hume's
conduct in the publication of the papers--Voltaire--Rousseau's
flight and wanderings--Hume's subsequent conduct to him. 319
CHAPTER XVI.
1766-1770. ÆT. 55-59.
Hume Under Secretary of State--Church Politics--Official
abilities--Conduct as to Ferguson's book--Quarrel with
Oswald--Baron Mure's sons--Project of continuing the History--
Ministerial convulsions--Hume's conduct to his Family--His
Brother--His Nephews--Baron Hume--Blacklock--Smollett--Church
Patronage--Gibbon--Robertson--Elliot--Gilbert Stuart--The
Douglas Cause--Andrew Stewart--Morellet--Return to Scotland. 382
CHAPTER XVII.
1771-1776. ÆT. 60-65.
Hume's social character--His conversation--His disposition--
Traditional anecdotes regarding him--Correspondence--Letter
about the Pretender--Gilbert Stuart's quarrel with Dr. Henry--
Commercial State of Scotland--Letter to his nephew on
Republicanism--Smith's "Wealth of Nations"--Hume's illness--
His Will--Smith appointed Literary Executor--Strahan
substituted--His journey to England with Home--Prospects of
Death--Communications with his Friends and Relations--His
Death--General view of his influence on Thought and Action. 437
INDEX. 523
FOOTNOTES:
[vi:A] By mistake two chapters have been numbered XIV.
THE LIFE
OF
DAVID HUME.
CHAPTER X.
1756-1759. ÆT. 45-48.
The second volume of the History of the Stuarts--His Apologies
for his Treatment of Religion--The Four Dissertations--The Two
Suppressed Dissertations--Resigns his Office of Librarian--
Home's Douglas--Commences the History of the Tudors--Wilkie's
Epigoniad--Hume's Nationalism--Warburton--Colonel Edmondstoune--
Dr. Robertson--Negotiations as to Ferguson's Chair--Hume goes
to London--Writes letters of Fictitious and Extravagant News--
Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments--Publication of the History
of the House of Tudor--General View of the Constitutional
Principles of the History.
We have now followed the personal history of David Hume through nearly
twenty years of authorship. We have seen him approach the tribunal of
public opinion with the strongest internal assurance of success, and in
a form so different from that of his predecessors, as a high reliance on
his own powers could alone have prompted. Baffled in the first, and in
the second, and in the third attempt, he still persevered; and while the
coldness of each reception showed him that his last effort had proved a
failure, it never extinguished the fire of literary ardour which he felt
burning within him, or quenched the hope, that it would one day blaze
forth before the world. It is only towards the termination of this long
period of laborious authorship that we find the philosopher's early
visions of intellectual greatness beginning to be fulfilled. At the
period at which we have now arrived, his name was famous over Europe. It
was a fame that, once spread abroad, was not soon to die; for those to
whom his name was first made known in his new popular work, speedily
discovered that, in his earliest neglected effort, he had laid the
foundation of a still surer claim on their admiration, and justified the
sagacity with which, in the pride and strength of youthful genius, he
had thrown its first fruits before the world unaided and unadvised.
The year 1756 seems to have been in a great measure devoted by Hume to
the printing of the second volume of his History, to which the following
letters to Millar refer. A great part of the correspondence with this
sagacious publisher relates to minute business arrangements. It is
presumed, that the reader may wish to see some specimens of the manner
in which Hume transacted such matters, but that he will not care to have
the whole of the arrangements between the author and publisher laid
before him. A few specimens of the business part of the letters are
accordingly selected, while those portions which have any general
interest, literary, philosophical, or political, are given in full. The
reader will see, perhaps, with some surprise, that he was very anxious
to subject his style to the critical eye of Mallet. We shall hereafter
have to disclose some curious features of his literary intercourse with
this extraordinary person.
HUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.
"_Edinburgh, 22d September, 1756._
"Mr. Strahan, in a few days, will have finished the printing this
volume; and I hope you will find leisure, before the hurry of winter,
to peruse it, and to write me your remarks on it. I fancy you will
publish about the middle of November. I must desire you to take the
trouble of distributing a few copies to my friends in London, and of
sending me a few copies here. The whole will be fifteen copies.
"Notwithstanding Mr. Mallet's impertinence in not answering my letter,
(for it deserves no better a name,) if you can engage him from yourself
to mark on the perusal such slips of language as he thinks I have fallen
into in this volume, it will be a great obligation to me: I mean that I
shall lie under an obligation to you; for I would not willingly owe any
to him. I am, dear sir, your most humble servant."[3:1]
"_Edinburgh, 4th December, 1756._
"DEAR SIR,--I have two of yours before me, and should have answered them
sooner, had not Mr. Dalrymple told me that he would come to a
resolution, in a few days, about the method of printing his volume. As
soon as he does so, I shall write you.
"I am certainly very well satisfied with your sale, which I hope
continues. Lord Lyttelton's objection is not well grounded; I have not
contradicted that story betwixt Shaftesbury and Clifford: I have only
omitted it. It stands only on Burnet's authority, who is very careless
and inaccurate. I believe I could convince both you and him that it was
without foundation. I am very glad that Mr. Mallet has marked those
expressions which appeared Scotticisms. You could not do me a greater
pleasure than to procure me a list of them. I beg of you to employ all
your interest with him to that purpose. I am very anxious to see them
soon, that I may examine them at leisure, and correct them in all my
writings. A very little time would suffice for him to take down the page
and the line and the expression. If counting the line were too
troublesome, he would oblige me by only marking the page and the
expression; I would easily find it.
"I had a conversation, yesterday, with Messrs. Kincaid and Donaldson,
when I made them a proposal, which, I hope, will be for both your
advantage. They told me that you had only about four hundred complete
sets of my philosophical writings. I am extremely desirous to have these
four volumes, with that which you will publish this winter, brought into
a quarto volume. They said that the small size was rather more proper
for their sale; and, therefore, they would gladly take, at present, two
hundred sets of the four volumes, to be paid for by so many of their
shares in the quarto edition as would be an equivalent; that is, if the
quarto volume were sold at the same price with the four volumes, then
set for set: if at more, then such allowance to be made as, upon
calculation, would appear to be an equivalent. If the History meet with
success, it will certainly quicken the sale of the philosophical
writings; and the taking two hundred sets from you, leaves you so small
a number on hand, as gives you a certain prospect of coming soon to a
new edition. Though some odd copies of particular volumes remain on
hand, there is no great matter, as they may be disposed of with a small
discount. If you agree to this proposal, they empowered me to desire you
to put the two hundred copies on board a ship with the first occasion,
and to write them a letter, by which they may be sure that there is no
mistake in the conditions. The bringing these scattered pieces into one
volume will, of itself, quicken the sale; and every new edition has
naturally that effect.
"I again recommend to you, very earnestly, the procuring me that favour
from Mr. Mallet. It is not possible that he can refuse you. I wish I had
desired you to ask the same favour of Mr. Reid, to whom please to make
my compliments. I am, dear sir, your most obedient servant."[5:1]
The second volume of the History, bringing down the narrative to the
Revolution, was published in 1756. "This performance," says Hume in his
"own life," alluding to the previous volume, "happened to give less
displeasure to the Whigs, and was better received. It not only rose
itself, but helped to buoy up its unfortunate brother."
The manner in which he had characterized the different religious bodies,
whose conduct he had to describe, gave offence to many readers, and was
afterwards matter of regret to himself. The toleration which forbids us
to punish our neighbour on account of his creed, he had fully learned.
That still higher toleration, which forbids us to treat our neighbour's
religious creed with disrespect, he had not yet acquired. He always
speaks of the extreme Independents and Presbyterians as enthusiasts.
With this term, not in itself opprobrious, because, though it implies
excess, it does not imply the excess of a bad quality, he, on some
occasions, associates the word fanaticism, and other expressions having
a like sarcastic, or at least slighting tendency. To the Roman Catholic
religion he was still less respectful, generally speaking of it
as "the Catholic superstition."[5:2] In his "Natural History
of Religion," published in 1757, he used the same offensive
expressions, and spoke of the ceremonies and essential doctrines
of the church of Rome, in a tone which no sincere member of that
church can encounter without painful feelings. In this respect he
certainly did not act up to the character of a true philosopher,
though his expressions are no doubt in harmony with the general
tone of his mind. He certainly had no wish to insult any man's
creed, but he never dreamed that, among his readers, there might
be some who sympathized deeply with the catholic spirit of the
gothic ages, or with the independent temper of the covenanters.
One whose mind revolted so nervously against whatever was not
stamped with the character of profound philosophy, or of brilliant
intellect, could see nothing to admire in the adaptation of the
catholic system to the dark ages in which it flourished; and would
have little respect for such achievements as it gained in the war
with barbarous minds and brutal passions.[6:1]
In Scotland, the Episcopal Church was at that time barely tolerated; and
many an outcry against this toleration, as one of the sins of the time,
made its adherents daily fear that their freedom of conscience might be
made still more narrow. For the Roman Catholics there was no toleration
in the proper acceptation of the term. Had their priesthood mingled in
the ordinary society of Edinburgh, and had Hume become acquainted with
them as he afterwards was with the clergy of France, he would perhaps
have blushed to write as he did, of the creed of learned and
accomplished men. In his subsequent editions, he carefully cleansed his
History of these offensive expressions, substituting in general the word
"creed" or "religion," instead of superstition.
The coincidence of his metaphysical opinions, with those of a
considerable portion of the Presbyterians, has already been noticed; and
his desire to strip religion of all forms and symbols, would seem to
point out the Presbyterian system as that with which he should naturally
have had the greatest sympathy. But he disliked enthusiasm or zeal,
whatever were the opinions of the zealots; and therefore he invariably
marks with censure the extreme views of that religious party. In the
English church, on the other hand, he met with a larger proportion of
learned, accomplished, and gentlemanlike men. Among persons, too, many
of whom were tempted to assume the sacerdotal character by its
emoluments, not by its duties, he found a tolerable portion of that
philosophical indifference, which it is to be feared he looked upon as
no blemish in a clergyman's character. In the Church of England, his
sympathies were thus with the insincere.[9:1] Where there was sincere
belief, but not to the extent of enthusiasm, the clergy of the Church of
Scotland would have the largest share of his confidence. Accordingly, we
find that he had formed a warm intimacy with many of the members of the
"moderate" party in that church. His own good taste and sense of
colloquial politeness, would suggest to him the propriety of avoiding,
whether in correspondence or conversation, all forms of expression or
enunciations of opinion, such as it would be unbecoming in a clergyman
to hear without reproving. On the other hand, his correspondence with
the clergy bears traces of his having made it part of the understanding
on which their intercourse was to be based, that they were not to make
him a subject for the exercise of their calling; and that they were to
abstain from all efforts of conversion, and all discussion of religious
subjects. Hence, although there are many observations on church politics
in his correspondence with his reverend friends, religion is a matter
never mentioned.
Before he published his second volume, Hume felt conscious of the
impropriety of the tone he had adopted in the first, towards religious
creeds. In a letter to Dr. Clephane, he says,--"I am convinced that
whatever I have said of religion should have received some more
softenings. There is no passage in the History which strikes in the
least at revelation. But as I run over all the sects successively, and
speak of each of them with some mark of disregard, the reader, putting
the whole together, concludes that I am of no sect; which to him will
appear the same thing as the being of no religion. With regard to
politics and the character of princes and great men, I think I am very
moderate. My views of _things_ are more conformable to Whig principles;
my representations of _persons_ to Tory prejudices. Nothing can so much
prove that men commonly regard more persons than things, as to find that
I am commonly numbered among the Tories."[11:1]
The following paper is evidently a draft of a preface, which, in the
consciousness that some apology was called for in connexion with this
subject, he intended to prefix to the second volume. He afterwards
published a great part of the substance of it in a note towards the end
of the volume: but there is sufficient difference in the contents of the
two papers to make the following a distinct object of interest.
PREFACE.
It ought to be no matter of offence, that in this volume, as
well as in the foregoing, the mischiefs which arise from the
abuses of religion are so often mentioned, while so little in
comparison is said of the salutary consequences which result
from true and genuine piety. The proper office of religion is
to reform men's lives, to purify their hearts, to enforce all
moral duties, and to secure obedience to the laws and civil
magistrate. While it pursues these useful purposes, its
operations, though infinitely valuable, are secret and silent,
and seldom come under the cognisance of history. That
adulterate species of it alone, which inflames faction,
animates sedition, and prompts rebellion, distinguishes itself
in the open theatre of the world. Those, therefore, who
attempt to draw inferences disadvantageous to religion from
the abuses of it mentioned by historians, proceed upon a very
gross, and a very obvious fallacy; for, besides that every
thing is liable to abuse, and the best things the most so, the
beneficent influence of religion is not to be sought for in
history. That principle is always the more pure and genuine,
the less figure it makes in the annals of war, politics,
intrigues, and revolutions, quarrels, and convulsions; which
it is the business of an historian to record and transmit to
posterity.
It ought as little to be matter of offence, that no religious
sect is mentioned in this work without being exposed sometimes
to some note of blame and disapprobation. The frailties of
our nature mingle themselves with every thing in which we
are employed, and no human institutions will ever reach
perfection, the idea of an infinite mind. The author of the
universe seems at first sight to require a worship absolutely
pure, simple, unadorned, without rites, institutions,
ceremonies; even without temples, priests, or verbal prayer
and supplication. Yet has this species of devotion been often
found to degenerate into the most dangerous fanaticism. When
we have recourse to the aid of the senses and imagination, in
order to adapt our religion in some degree to human infirmity,
it is very difficult, and almost impossible, to prevent
altogether the intrusion of superstition, or keep men from
laying too great stress on the ceremonial and ornamental parts
of their worship. Of all the sects into which Christians have
been divided, the Church of England seems to have chosen the
most happy medium; yet it will undoubtedly be allowed, that
during the age of which these volumes treat, there was a
tincture of superstition in the partisans of the hierarchy, as
well as a strong mixture of enthusiasm in their antagonists.
But it is the nature of the latter principle soon to evaporate
and decay. A spirit of moderation usually succeeds in a little
to the fervours of zeal; and it must be acknowledged, to the
honour of the present Presbyterians, Independents, and other
sectaries of this island, that they resemble in little more
than in name their predecessors, who flourished during the
civil wars, and who were the authors of such disorders. It
would appear ridiculous in the eyes of the judicious part of
mankind, to pretend that even the first reformers, in most
countries of Europe, did not carry matters to a most violent
extreme, and were not on many occasions liable to the
imputation of fanaticism. Not to mention that uncharitable
spirit which accompanies zealots of all kinds, and which led
the early reformers, almost universally, to inflict upon the
Catholics, and on all who differed from them, the same rigours
of which they themselves so loudly complained.
These hints, however obvious, the author thought proper to
suggest, with regard to the free and impartial manner in which
he has treated religious controversy. As to the civil and
political part of his performance, he scorns to suggest any
apology, where he thinks himself entitled to approbation. To
be above the temptation of interest is a species of virtue,
which we do not find by experience to be very common; but to
neglect at the same time all popular and vulgar applause, is
an enterprise much more rare and arduous. Whoever, in a
factious nation, pays court to neither party, must expect that
justice will be done him by time only, perhaps only by a
distant posterity.[13:1]
The "Natural History of Religion" above referred to, remarkable even
among its author's other works, for the breadth of its research, and its
apt union of philosophy with historical detail, was published in 1757,
along with three other essays;[13:2] and a curious incident connected
with this publication has now to be revealed. In 1783, a work was
published in London, called "Essays on Suicide and the Immortality of
the Soul, ascribed to the late David Hume, Esq., never before published;
with remarks, intended as an antidote to the poison contained in these
performances, by the Editor." The editor and his antidote are now both
forgotten: but the style of Hume and his method of thinking were at once
recognised in these essays, and they have been incorporated with the
general edition of his works. If any doubt attached to the authorship,
it would be cleared up by some allusions in his subsequent
correspondence, where we shall find him naturally expressing alarm at
the circumstance of Wilkes having, through the negligence of Millar, had
possession of a copy containing the two suppressed essays. Many copies,
indeed, of the first edition of the dissertations bear marks of having
been mutilated.[14:1] That Hume wrote these essays, and intended to
publish them, is thus an incident in his life which ought not to be
passed over; but it is also part of his history, that he repented of the
act at the last available moment, and suppressed the publication.
That after the ghastly scene which he witnessed twenty years
earlier,[14:2] he should have written on suicide with his usual
philosophical indifference, and contempt for the prevalent sentiments
and feelings of mankind, is a remarkable proof how little he was liable
to ordinary imaginative impressions; how completely he was free of
subjection to those
"lords of the visionary eye, whose lid
Once raised remains aghast, and will not fall."
It may safely be pronounced, that had he widened the circle of his
utilitarian theory, and embraced within it, as he might have done,
Hutcheson's theory of universal benevolence, he never would have
palliated self-slaughter. He looked at it only in relation to the person
who perpetrates the act. The utilitarian principle, however, should have
suggested to him the misery caused to surviving relatives by one such
deed, the horrible uncertainty that must pervade any society where it is
common; and he would have felt that no single life can be so dreadful a
burden to the owner as to justify him in causing such an amount of evil
to the rest of the world, as he would produce by casting it away. The
result of modern reading and inquiry into vital statistics, is to show
that the desire of longevity, which the author of our being has
implanted in all bosoms, is an adaptation to universal utility; because
it is from premature deaths, produced by violence or disease, that
communities are burdened with those unproductive members of society,
which in a healthy and long-lived community, receive domestic support
from the productive members.[15:1]
The reasonings of an enthusiast have generally more plausibility than
those of a philosopher who has gone astray from his own theory; for the
straying philosopher speaks like one who has misgivings; while the
enthusiast never doubts that he is in the right, and urges his opinions
with a corresponding confidence and sincerity. Thus the justification of
suicide which Rousseau puts into a letter from St. Preux to Lord Edward
Bomston, is a far more attractive vindication than that which Hume had
intended to publish.
This was not the only suppression connected with the publication of the
Dissertations. As at first printed, they were preceded by an
affectionate and laudatory dedication to John Home. Before the edition
was published, this dedication was suppressed; because Hume thought it
might injure his friend, in the estimation of his brethren of the
church. Before the edition was sold, however, Hume desired the
dedication to be restored. This step was probably owing to Home having
intimated to him his design of resigning his charge as minister of
Athelstaneford, which he did in June, 1757. This not only removed the
objection to the dedication, but as it severed the dramatic martyr from
his professional brethren, it made him more dependant on the sympathy
and suffrages of other friends, and rendered Hume's testimony to his
merits more valuable.
He thus writes on this subject to Smith.
HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.
[16:1]"DEAR SMITH,--The dedication to John Home, you have probably seen;
for I find it has been inserted in some of the weekly papers, both here
and in London. Some of my friends thought it was indiscreet in me to
make myself responsible to the public, for the productions of another.
But the author had lain under such singular and unaccountable
obstructions in his road to fame, that I thought it incumbent on his
wellwishers to go as much out of the common road to assist him. I
believe the composition of the dedication will be esteemed very prudent,
and not inelegant.
"I can now give you the satisfaction of hearing that the play, though
not near so well acted in Covent Garden as in this place, is likely to
be very successful. Its great intrinsic merit breaks through all
obstacles. When it shall be printed, (which will be soon,) I am
persuaded it will be esteemed the best, and by French critics the only
tragedy of our language! This encouragement will no doubt engage the
author to go on in the same career. He meets with great countenance in
London, and, I hope, will soon be rendered independent in his fortune.
"Did you ever hear of such madness and folly as our clergy have lately
fallen into? For my part, I expect that the next Assembly will very
solemnly pronounce the sentence of excommunication against me; but I do
not apprehend it to be a matter of any consequence; what do you think?
"I am somewhat idle at present, and somewhat undetermined as to my next
undertaking. Shall I go backwards or forwards in my History? I think you
used to tell me, that you approved more of my going backwards. The other
would be the more popular subject; but I am afraid that I shall not find
materials sufficient to ascertain the truth--at least, without settling
in London, which, I own, I have some reluctance to. I am settled here
very much to my mind; and would not wish, at my years, to change the
place of my abode.
"I have just now received a copy of 'Douglas' from London; it will
instantly be put in the press. I hope to be able to send you a copy in
the same parcel with the dedication."[18:1]
HUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.
"_Edinburgh, 20th January, 1757._
"DEAR SIR,--The dedication of my Dissertations to Mr. Hume[18:2] was
shown to some of his friends here, men of very good sense, who were
seized with an apprehension that it would hurt that party in the church,
with which he had always been connected, and would involve him, and them
of consequence, in the suspicion of infidelity. Neither he nor I were in
the least affected with their panic; but to satisfy them, we agreed to
stand by the arbitration of one person, of great rank and of known
prudence; and I promised them to write to you to suspend the publication
for one post, in case you should have resolved to publish it presently.
Next post you shall be sure to hear from me; and if we be obliged to
suppress it, you'll be pleased to place the charges of print and paper
to my account. I indorse this day your two bills to Mr. Alexander
Cunningham. I am," &c.
Early in 1757, Hume resigned his office of librarian of the Advocates'
Library. As a verbal intimation of his wishing to leave this situation
was not considered satisfactory, he favoured his learned employers with
the following laconic letter:--
"_Edinburgh, January 8, 1757._
"SIR,--A few days ago, I sent the Faculty a verbal resignation; but as I
am told that it is expected I should give a resignation under my hand,
and as I am very desirous to deliver over the charge of the library as
soon as possible, I have been induced to write you at present, and beg
of you to inform the Faculty, that they may choose me a successor
whenever they think proper. I am, sir, your most humble servant.[19:1]
"_To Mr. Charles Binning,
Vice-Dean of the Faculty of Advocates._"
HUME _to_ WILLIAM MURE _of Caldwell_.
"DEAR MURE,--I hope you do not think yourself obliged, by saying civil
things, to make atonement for the too homely truths, which you told me
formerly. I will not believe so. I take for granted, that you are
equally sincere in both: though I must own that I think my first volume
a great deal better than the second. The subject admitted of more
eloquence, and of greater nicety of reasoning, and more acute
distinctions. The opposition, I may say the rage, with which it was
received by the public, I must confess, did not a little surprise me.
Whatever knowledge I pretend to in history, and human affairs, I had not
so bad an opinion of men as to expect that candour, disinterestedness,
and humanity, could entitle me to that treatment. Yet such was my fate.
After a long interval, I at last collected so much courage, as to renew
my application to the second volume, though with infinite disgust and
reluctance; and I am sensible that, in many passages of it, there are
great signs of that disposition, and that my usual fire does not every
where appear. At other times, I excited myself, and perhaps succeeded
better.
Exul eram; requiesque mihi, non fama, petita est;
Mens intenta suis, ne foret usque malis.
Nam simul ac mea caluerant pectora musae,
Altior humano spiritus ille malo est.[20:1]
"I leave you to judge whether your letter came in a very seasonable
time. I own that I had the weakness to be affected by it, when I found
that a person, whose judgment I very much valued, could tell me, though
I was not asking his opinion----But I will not proceed any farther. The
matter gave me uneasiness at the time, though without the least
resentment. At present the uneasiness is gone; and all my usual
friendship, confirmed by years and long acquaintance, still remains.
"Pray, whether do you pity or blame me most, with regard to this
dedication of my Dissertations to my friend, the poet? I am sure I never
executed any thing which was either more elegant in the composition, or
more generous in the intention; yet such an alarm seized some fools
here, (men of very good sense, but fools in that particular,) that they
assailed both him and me with the utmost violence; and engaged us to
change our intention. I wrote to Millar to suppress that dedication; two
posts after, I retracted that order. Can any thing be more unlucky than
that, in the interval of these four days, he should have opened his
sale, and disposed of eight hundred copies, without that dedication,
whence, I imagined, my friend would reap some advantage, and myself so
much honour? I have not been so heartily vexed at any accident of a long
time. However, I have insisted that the dedication shall still be
published.
"I am a little uncertain what work I shall next undertake; for I do not
care to be long idle. I think you seem to approve of my going forward:
and I am sensible that the subject is much more interesting to us, and
even will be so to posterity, than any other I could choose: but can I
hope that there are materials for composing a just and sure history of
it? I am afraid not. However, I shall examine the matter. I fancy it
will be requisite for me to take a journey to London, and settle there
for some time, in order to gather such materials as are not to be found
in print. But, if I should go backwards, and write the History of
England from the accession of Henry the Seventh, I might remain where I
am; and I own to you, at my time of life, these changes of habitation
are not agreeable, even though the place be better to which one removes.
"I am sorry my fair cousin does not find London so agreeable as,
perhaps, she expected. She must not judge by one winter. It will improve
against next winter, and appear still better the winter after that.
Please make my compliments to her, and tell her that she must not be
discouraged. By the by, Mrs. Binnie tells me that she writes her a very
different account of matters, so that I find my cousin is a hypocrite.
"I shall make use of your criticisms, and wish there had been more of
them. That practice of doubling the genitive is certainly very
barbarous, and I carefully avoided it in the first volume; but I find it
so universal a practice, both in writing and speaking, that I thought it
better to comply with it, and have even changed all the passages in the
first volume, in conformity to use. All languages contain solecisms of
that kind.
"Please make my compliments to Sir Harry Erskine, and tell him that I
have executed what I proposed. I am," &c.[22:1]
The following letter shows that he did not long remain idle, or
undecided in his historical projects:--
HUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.
"_Edinburgh, 20th May, 1757._
"I have already begun, and am a little advanced in a third volume of
History. I do not preclude myself from the view of going forward to the
period after the Revolution; but, at present, I begin with the reign of
Henry the Seventh. It is properly at that period modern history
commences. America was discovered; commerce extended; the arts
cultivated; printing invented; religion reformed, and all the
governments of Europe almost changed. I wish, therefore, I had begun
here at first. I should have obviated many objections that were made to
the other volumes. I shall be considerably advanced in this volume
before I be in London.
"I come now to speak to you of an affair which gives me uneasiness, and
which I mention with reluctance. I am told that one Dr. Brown has
published a book in London, where there is a note containing personal
reflections on me, for which he quotes a letter I wrote to you.[23:1]
What sort of behaviour this is, to make use of a private letter, without
the permission of the person to whom it was addressed, is easily
conceived; but how he came to see any of my letters, I cannot imagine;
nor what I wrote, that could give him any handle for his calumny. All I
can recollect of the matter is this, that above two years ago, when
Bailie Hamilton was in London, he wrote me, that the stop in the sale of
my History proceeded from some strokes of irreligion, which had raised
the cry of the clergy against me. This gave me occasion to remark to
you, that the Bailie's complaint must have proceeded from his own
misconduct; that the cause he assigned could never have produced that
effect; that it was rather likely to increase the sale, according to all
past experience; that you had offered (as I heard) a large sum for
Bolingbroke's Works, trusting to this consequence; and that the strokes
complained of were so few, and of such small importance, that, if any
ill effects could have been apprehended from them, they might easily
have been retrenched. As far as I can recollect, this was the purport of
my letter;[24:1] but I must beg you, that you would cause it to be
transcribed, and send me a copy of it, for I find by John Hume that you
have it still by you. I doubt not but I could easily refute Dr. Brown;
but as I had taken a resolution never to have the least altercation with
these fellows, I shall not readily be brought to pay any attention to
him; and I cannot but be displeased that your inadvertence or
indiscretion (for I cannot give it a better name) should have brought me
to this dilemma. I fancy Brown will find it a difficult matter to
persuade the public that I do not speak my sentiments in every subject I
handle, and that I have any view to any interest whatsoever. I leave
that to him and his gang: for he is a flatterer, as I am told, of that
low fellow, Warburton; and any thing so low as Warburton, or his
flatterers, I should certainly be ashamed to engage with. I am, &c.
"P.S. Since you are acquainted with Dr. Brown, I must beg of you to read
this letter to him; for it is probably, or indeed certainly, all the
answer I shall ever deign to give him."[25:1]
The reader will feel interested in the sketch, by the pen of Hume, of an
eminent contemporary--his friend Wilkie--in the following letter.
HUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.
"_Edinburgh, 3d July, 1757._
"DEAR SIR,--To show you that I am not such an affecter of singularity as
to entertain prejudices against ministers of state,[25:2] I am resolved
to congratulate you on your return to power, and to express my wishes,
that, both for your sake and the public's, your ministry, and that of
your friends, may be more durable than it was before. We even hope it
will, though the strange motley composition which it consists of, gives
us some apprehensions. However, we are glad to find, from past
experience, that you can neither rise nor fall, without credit and
reputation. You know that, according to the whimsical way in this
country, it is more difficult to rise than fall with reputation.
"I suppose that, by this time, you have undoubtedly read and admired the
wonderful production of the Epigoniad, and that you have so much love
for arts, and for your native country, as to be very industrious in
propagating the fame of it. It is certainly a most singular production,
full of sublimity and genius, adorned by a noble, harmonious, forcible,
and even correct versification. We generally think the story deficient
and uninteresting; but perhaps the new fancy of crossing the invention
of all modern romance-writers may make some atonement, and even bestow
an air of novelty on the imitation of Homer. As I cannot but hope that
this work will soon become the subject of conversation in London, I
shall take this opportunity of supplying you with some anecdotes with
regard to the author, besides such as you already know,--of his being a
very worthy and a very entertaining man, adorned with all that
simplicity of manners, so common to great men, and even with some of
that rusticity and negligence which serve to abate that envy to which
they are so much exposed.
"You know he is a farmer's son, in the neighbourhood of this town, where
there are a great number of pigeon-houses. The farmers are very much
infested with the pigeons, and Wilkie's father planted him often as a
scarecrow (an office for which he is well qualified) in the midst of his
fields of wheat. It was in this situation that he confessed he first
conceived the design of his epic poem, and even executed part of it. He
carried out his Homer with him, together with a table, and pen and ink,
and a great rusty gun. He composed and wrote two or three lines, till a
flock of pigeons settled in the field, then rose up, ran towards them,
and fired at them; returned again to his former station, and added a
rhyme or two more, till he met with a fresh interruption.
"Two or three years ago, Jemmy Russel put a very pleasant trick on an
English physician, one Dr. Roebuck, who was travelling in this country.
Russel carried him out one day on horseback to see the outlets of the
town, and purposely led him by Wilkie's farm. He saw the bard at a
small distance, sowing his corn, with a sheet about him, all besmeared
with dirt and sweat, with a coat and visage entirely proportioned to his
occupation. Russel says to his companion, 'Here is a fellow, a peasant,
with whom I have some business: let us call him.' He made a sign, and
Wilkie came to them: some questions were asked him with regard to the
season, to his farm and husbandry, which he readily answered; but soon
took an opportunity of digressing to the Greek poets, and enlarging on
that branch of literature. Dr. Roebuck, who had scarce understood his
rustic English, or rather his broad Scotch, immediately comprehended
him, for his Greek was admirable; and on leaving him, he could not
forbear expressing the highest admiration to Russel, that a clown, a
rustic, a mere hind, such as he saw this fellow was, should be possessed
of so much erudition. 'Is it usual,' says he, 'for your peasants in
Scotland to read the Greek poets?'--'O Yes,' replies Russel, very
coolly, 'we have long winter evenings; and in what can they employ
themselves better, than in reading the Greek poets?' Roebuck left the
country in a full persuasion that there are at least a dozen farmers in
every parish who read Homer, Hesiod, and Sophocles, every
winter-evening, to their families; and, if ever he writes an account of
his travels, it is likely he will not omit so curious a circumstance.
"Wilkie is now a settled minister at Ratho, within four miles of the
town.[27:1] He possesses about £80 or £90 a-year, which he esteems
exorbitant riches. Formerly, when he had only £20, as helper, he said
that he could not conceive what article, either of human convenience or
pleasure he was deficient in, nor what any man could mean by desiring
more money. He possesses several branches of erudition, besides the
Greek poetry; and, particularly, is a very profound geometrician, a
science commonly very incompatible with the lively imagination of a
poet. He has even made some new discoveries in that science; and he told
me, that, when a young man, he threw cross and pile, whether he should
devote himself chiefly to mathematics or to poetry, and fears that
rather he crossed the bent of his genius in taking to the latter. Yet
this man, who has composed the second epic poem in our language!
understands so little of orthography, that, regularly through the whole
poem, he spelled the word yield in this manner, 'ealde;' and I had great
difficulty to convince him of his mistake.
"I fancy our friend, Robertson, will be able to publish his History next
winter. You are sufficiently acquainted with the merit of this work; and
really it is admirable how many men of genius this country produces at
present. Is it not strange that, at a time when we have lost our
princes, our parliaments, our independent government,--even the presence
of our chief nobility; are unhappy, in our accent and pronunciation;
speak a very corrupt dialect of the tongue we make use of,--is it not
strange, I say, that, in these circumstances, we should really be the
people most distinguished for literature in Europe?
"Having spoke so much to Mr. Elliot, the man of letters, you must now
allow me to say a few words to Mr. Elliot, the lord of the admiralty.
There is a cousin-german of mine, Alexander Edgar, who is midshipman in
the Vestal, off Harwich, and has passed his trials, above four months
ago, for a lieutenantcy. He always behaved well in all his service,
which has been very long; and, almost from his infancy, he has had the
good-will, and even friendship, of all his captains; is modest, sober,
frugal, and attentive, and very deserving of promotion. I recommended
him to Mr. Oswald, who always protected him, but can no longer be of
service to him. He is of a very good family, though his father spent his
estate and died a bankrupt; and the poor lad has now scarce any other
friends than what I can procure him: permit me the freedom of
recommending him to your protection. If I did not think him worthy of
it, I should not venture to do so, notwithstanding his near relationship
to me. I think I ought to make some apologies for this liberty I use
with you; but I think it would be wronging our friendship to make too
many. I am, dear sir, your most obedient humble servant."[29:1]
Wilkie's Epigoniad, of which few ordinary readers now know more than the
name, if even that be very generally remembered south of the Tweed,
inspired many zealous Scotsmen of the day, with the belief that their
country had, at last, produced a great epic poet: but the national
feeling was not responded to in England.[29:2]
Finding that the Epigoniad was attacked by the English critics, Hume
was determined to be the champion of his countryman's fame against all
comers; and accordingly addressed a letter to the editor of _The
Critical Review_, containing a long complimentary criticism, in which he
says,--
There remained a tradition among the Greeks, that Homer had
taken this second siege of Thebes for the subject of a poem,
which is lost; and our author seems to have pleased himself
with the thoughts of reviving the work, as well as of treading
in the footsteps of his favourite author. The actors are
mostly the same with those of the Iliad; Diomede is the hero;
Ulysses, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Nestor, Idomeneus, Merion, even
Thersites, all appear in different passages of the poem; and
act parts suitable to the lively characters drawn of them by
that great master. The whole turn of this new poem would
almost lead us to imagine, that the Scottish bard had found
the lost manuscript of that father of poetry, and had made a
faithful translation of it into English. Longinus imagines,
that the Odyssey was executed by Homer in his old age; we
shall allow the Iliad to be the work of his middle age; and we
shall suppose that the Epigoniad was the essay of his youth,
where his noble and sublime genius breaks forth by frequent
intervals, and gives strong symptoms of that constant flame
which distinguished its meridian. . . .
The story of a poem, whatever may be imagined, is the least
essential part of it; the force of the versification, the
vivacity of the images, the justness of the descriptions, the
natural play of the passions, are the chief circumstances
which distinguish the great poet from the prosaic novelist,
and give him so high a rank among the heroes in literature;
and I will venture to affirm, that all these advantages,
especially the three former, are to be found, in an eminent
degree, in the Epigoniad. The author, inspired with the true
genius of Greece, and smit with the most profound veneration
for Homer, disdains all frivolous ornaments; and relying
entirely on his sublime imagination, and his nervous and
harmonious expression, has ventured to present to his reader
the naked beauties of nature, and challenges for his partisans
all the admirers of genuine antiquity.[31:1]
In his conduct on this occasion, Hume exhibited strong national
partiality. It may seem at first sight at variance with some of his
other characteristics; but it is undoubtedly true, that Hume was imbued
with an intense spirit of nationality. It was a nationality, however, of
a peculiar and restricted character. He cared little about the heroism
of his country, or even its struggles for independence: Wallace, Bruce,
and the Black Douglas, were, in his eyes, less interesting than Ulysses
or Æneas,
----carent quia vate sacro.
But in that arena which he thought the greatest, in the theatre where
intellect exhibits her might, he panted to see his country first and
greatest. No Scotsman could write a book of respectable talent without
calling forth his loud and warm eulogiums. Wilkie was to be the Homer,
Blacklock the Pindar, and Home the Shakspere, or something still
greater, of his country. On those who were even his rivals in his own
peculiar walks--Adam Smith, Robertson, Ferguson, and Henry, he heaped
the same honest, hearty commendation. He urged them to write; he raised
the spirit of literary ambition in their breasts; he found publishers
for their works; and, when these were completed, he trumpeted the
praises of the authors through society.
The following letter shows how accidentally Hume became acquainted with
a matter, which, according to modern notions, should have formed part of
his systematic studies, before he began to write a history of England.
HUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.
"_Edinburgh, 9th Aug. 1757._
"DEAR SIR,--I can easily perceive that your friends were no lawyers, who
said that there was no statute in Henry the Seventh's reign, which
facilitated the alienation of lands, and broke the ancient entails: it
is 4 Hen. VII. cap. 24; but a man may read that passage fifty times, and
not find any thing that seems, in the least, to point that way. I should
certainly have overlooked the meaning of it, had I not been guided by
Lord Kames. You must know that it was a practice in the courts of
justice, before Henry the Seventh's time, to break entails by a device
which seems very ridiculous, but which is continued to this day, and
first received the sanction of law during the reign of that prince. You
have an entailed estate, I suppose, and want to break the entail. You
agree with me that I am to claim the estate by a sham title, prior to
the first entailer; you confess in court that my title is good and
valid; the judges, upon this confession of the party, adjudge the estate
to me; upon which I immediately restore the estate to you, free and
unencumbered; and by this hocus-pocus the entail is broke.--Such was the
practice, pretty common before Henry the Seventh. All that the
parliament then did, was to regulate the method of proceeding in this
fine device, and to determine that the titles of minors, and femmes
couvert, were not to be injured by it. As to other people, who had an
interest to preserve an entail, and who had any good reason to plead in
their own favour, they would naturally appear for themselves. This
practice is called a fine, and a recovery: fine, from the Latin word
finis; because it forecloses all parties, and puts a final issue to
their claims and pretensions: a recovery, because a man thereby recovers
his estate, without the encumbrance of an entail.
"By the bye, I am told, that there are many of these practices still
continued in the law of England; which are as foolish, juvenile, and
ridiculous, as are to be met with in ---- I mean in ---- I would be
understood to mean in ---- any craft or profession of the world.[33:1]
"I am writing the History of England, from the accession of Henry the
Seventh, and am some years advanced in Henry the Eighth. I undertook
this work because I was tired of idleness, and found reading alone,
after I had often perused all good books, (which I think is soon done,)
somewhat a languid occupation. As to the approbation or esteem of those
blockheads who call themselves the public, and whom a bookseller, a
lord, a priest, or a party can guide, I do most heartily despise it. I
shall be able, I think, to make a tolerable smooth, well-told tale of
the history of England during that period; but I own I have not yet been
able to throw much new light into it. I begin the Reformation to-morrow.
"I find the public, with you, have rejected the Epigoniad, for the
present. They may do so if they please; but it has a great deal of
merit, much more than any one of them is capable of throwing into a
work.
"I disapprove very much of Ferguson's scruples, with regard to entering
into Lord Bute's family, with the inspection of more than one boy; but I
hope Lord Bute will conform himself to his delicacy, at least if he
wants to have a man of sense, knowledge, taste, elegance, and morals,
for a tutor to his son.[34:1]
"I am obliged to you for your good intentions, with regard to my cousin;
but you must express yourself otherwise, than by saying that you will
concur with the rest of my friends in endeavouring to promote him; for
now that Oswald is out of court, whom have I besides to apply to? Dear
Sir, your most obedient humble servant."[34:2]
HUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.
"_Edinburgh, 3d September, 1757._
"As to my opinions, you know I defend none of them positively; I only
propose my doubts where I am so unhappy as not to receive the same
conviction with the rest of mankind. It surprises me much to see any
body who pretends to be a man of letters, discover anger on that
account; since it is certain, by the experience of all ages, that
nothing contributes more to the progress of learning than such disputes
and novelties.
"Apropos to anger; I am positively assured, that Dr. Warburton wrote
that letter to himself, which you sent me; and indeed the style
discovers him sufficiently.[35:1] I should answer him; but he attacks so
small a corner of my building, that I can abandon it without drawing
great consequences after it. If he would come into the field and dispute
concerning the principal topics of my philosophy, I should probably
accept the challenge: at present nothing could tempt me to take the pen
in hand but anger, of which I feel myself incapable, even upon this
provocation.
"I have finished the Index to the new collection of my pieces; this
Index cost me more trouble than I was aware of when I began it. I am
obliged to Mr. Strahan, for the uncommon pains he has taken in making it
correct. The Errata which I have given, consist mostly of small
alterations in the style, which I made myself. You know I always expect
half-a-dozen of copies on each new edition. I would wish that Mr.
Strahan would accept of one, as a proof of the sense which I have of his
care on this occasion. Please keep one by you, which I fancy I shall
have occasion to send abroad; and be so good as to send the other four,
with any other parcel you are sending hither. I am very assiduous in
writing a new volume of History, and am now pretty well advanced. I find
the whole will be comprised in one volume, though somewhat more bulky
than any of the former. The period of time is a great deal longer than
that of either of the former, but is not near so full of interesting
matter; and as the original historians are much fewer, there are not so
many circumstances transmitted to us. I am pretty certain, that I shall
be able to deliver to you the manuscript about a twelvemonth hence, and
shall certainly be in London myself for that purpose. You seemed
desirous that we should mutually enter into articles about this volume;
which I declined, till I should be so much advanced as to be sure of my
resolution of executing it, and could judge with some certainty of the
bulk. Now that I am satisfied in both these particulars, I am willing to
engage with you for the same price, viz. seven hundred pounds, payable
three months after the publication. If you approve of this proposal,
please write me a letter for that purpose; and I shall also, in return,
send you an obligatory letter. I think this justice is due to you, that
you may see I do not intend, on account of any success, to screw up the
price, or ask beyond what you have already allowed me, which, I own, was
very reasonable.
"Mr. Dalrymple has paid me twenty pounds and a crown. I can never meet
with Mr. Wright, though I call often at his shop. Mr. Balfour does not
name any day.
"I am glad of the approbation which Mr. Dalrymple's book meets with; I
think it really deserves it.[37:1]
"Nothing surprises me more than the ill usage which the Epigoniad has
received. Every body here likes it extremely. The plan and story is not
so much admired, as the poetry and versification; but your critics seem
willing to allow it no merit at all. I fancy it has not been enough
dispersed; and that your engaging on it, would extremely forward its
success. The whole edition is out. There were five hundred and fifty
disposed of here; two hundred sent to London. As the author is my very
good friend and acquaintance, I should be much pleased to bring you to
an understanding together. If the bad success on the first edition has
not discouraged you, I would engage him to make you proposals for that
purpose. He will correct all the blemishes remarked. I should not be
displeased that you read to Dr. Warburton, the paragraph in the first
page of my letter, with regard to himself. The hopes of getting an
answer, might probably engage him to give us something farther of the
same kind; which, at least, saves you the expense of advertising. I see
the doctor likes a literary squabble.
"I would be glad to know, how near you think you are to a new edition of
my History, and whether you intend a duodecimo edition of these
philosophical pieces. I am," &c.[38:1]
DAVID HUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.
"_Edinburgh, 3d Sept. 1757._
"DEAR DOCTOR,--I am charmed to find you so punctual a correspondent. I
always knew you to be a good friend, though I was afraid that I had lost
you, and that you had joined that great multitude who abused me, and
reproached me with Paganism, and Jacobitism, and many other wretched
isms, of which I am only guilty of a part.
"I believe a man, when he is once an author, is an author for life; for
I am now very busily engaged in writing another volume of history, and
have crept backwards to the reign of Henry the Seventh. I wish indeed
that I had begun there; for, by that means, I should have been able,
without making any digression, by the plain course of the narration, to
have shown how absolute the authority was which the English kings then
possessed, and that the Stuarts did little or nothing more than continue
matters in the former track, which the people were determined no longer
to admit. By this means I should have escaped the reproach of the most
terrible ism of them all, that of Jacobitism. I shall certainly be in
London next summer; and probably to remain there during life; at least,
if I can settle myself to my mind, which I beg you to have an eye to. A
room in a sober, discreet family, who would not be averse to admit a
sober, discreet, virtuous, frugal, regular, quiet, good-natured man of a
bad character,--such a room, I say, would suit me extremely, especially
if I could take most of my meals in the family; and more especially
still, if it was not far distant from Dr. Clephane's. I shall then be
able, dear doctor, to spend £150 a-year, which is the sum upon which, I
remember, you formerly undertook me. But I would not have you reckon
upon _probabilities_, as you then called them, for I am resolved to
write no more. I shall read and correct, and chat and be idle, the rest
of my life.
"I must now make room for Sir Harry, who smiles at the sum at which I
have set up my rest. I am," &c.[39:1]
Among the officers of the Scottish Royal Regiment who served in the
expedition to Port L'Orient, and afterwards continued in terms of
familiar acquaintance with Hume, was captain, afterwards Colonel
Edmondstoune, of Newton in Perthshire. His letters, which were preserved
by Hume, and will occasionally be cited in these pages, show that he
was a man of wit and learning. Frequent allusions to him, under the name
of Guidelianus, have already occurred in Hume's letters to mutual
friends. The following, graceful and thoroughly amiable as it is, is
apparently the earliest of Hume's letters to him which has been
preserved.
HUME _to_ CAPTAIN EDMONDSTOUNE.
"_Edinburgh, 29th Sept. 1757._
"DEAR EDMONDSTOUNE,--I believe it is a rule in law, that any summons
prevents prescription; and in like manner, that the wakening a process
keeps one's rank in the lords' row.[40:1] It is with some such view that
I now write to you; not to send you a formal letter, which would require
a formal answer, and would therefore get no answer at all: but just to
take a shake of your hand, and ask you how you do, and speak a little
nonsense to you as usual, and then fall into s[ilence] without giving
myself the trouble of supporting the conversation any lon[ger]; and, in
a word, keep you from forgetting that you have some such friend in the
world as myself.
"But pray, why did you not write me as you promised and give me your
direction? Was you afraid I should write to you? You see I can find out
a method of directing to you without your information.
"Tell me about the Epigoniad. Was there ever so much fine versification
bestowed on so indifferent a story? Has it had any success in Ireland? I
fancy not; for the criticklings in Dublin depend on the criticklings in
London, who depend on the booksellers, who depend on their interest,
which depends on their printing a book themselves. This is the cause why
Wilkie's book is at present neglected, or damned, as they call it: but I
am much mistaken if it end so. Pray what says the primate of it? I hear
he has the generosity to support damned books till the resurrection, and
that he is one of the saints who pray them out of purgatory. I hope he
is an honest fellow and one of [us.] Captain Masterton told me, that he
was not quite of my opinion with regard to the 'Douglas,' and that he
blamed my dedicatory address to the author. But I persist still, and
will prove in spite of him and you, and of every man who [wears eit]her
black or scarlet, that it is an admirable tragedy, comparable [to the
exce]llent pieces of the good age of Louis Quatorze. The author is here
at present, and is refitting his 'Agis' for the theatre, which I hope
will have justice done it. _Il est le mieux renté de touts les beaux
esprits._ He has a pension from his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales,
as you have probably heard.
"I hear sometimes from the Doctor, who desires me to tell him something
about you. But I am no necromancer; only, as the ancients
said,--_prudentia est quædam divinatio_. I conjecture that you are
lounging, and reading, and playing at whist, and blaming yourself for
not writing letters, and yet persisting in the neglect of your
duty."[41:1]
The following is the second letter in which we find Hume appreciating
the merits of his friend and rival, Robertson. There is no passage in
literary history, perhaps, more truly dignified, than the perfect
cordiality and sincere interchange of services between two men, whose
claims on the admiration of the world came in so close competition with
each other.
HUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.
"_Edinburgh, 6th April, 1758._
"DEAR SIR,--I am very glad that Mr. Robertson is entering on terms with
you. It was indeed my advice to him, when he set out for London, that he
should think of no other body; and I ventured to assure him that he
would find your way of dealing frank, and open, and generous. He read me
part of his History, and I had an opportunity of reading another part of
it in manuscript above a twelvemonth ago. Upon the whole, my
expectations, both from what I saw, and from my knowledge of the author,
were very much raised, and I consider it as a work of uncommon merit. I
know that he has employed himself with great diligence and care in
collecting the facts: his style is lively and entertaining; and he
judges with temper and candour. He is a man generally known and esteemed
in this country: and we look upon him very deservedly as inferior to
nobody in capacity and learning. Hamilton and Balfour have offered him a
very unusual price; no less than five hundred pounds for one edition of
two thousand; but I own, that I should be better pleased to see him in
your hands. I only inform you of this fact, that you may see how high
the general expectations are of Mr. Robertson's performance. It will
have a quick sale in this country, from the character of the author; and
in England, from the merit of the work, as soon as it is known.
"Some part of his subject is common with mine; but as his work is a
History of Scotland, mine of England, we do not interfere; and it will
rather be an amusement to the reader to compare our method of treating
the same subject. I give you thanks, however, for your attention in
asking my opinion."[43:1]
The following is from another letter on the same subject.
"_Edinburgh, 20th June, 1758._
"I send enclosed a letter from Mr. Robertson. He wishes it were
practicable to send him more than one sheet every post. I am afraid, if
this be not done, our publications will interfere, which would be
disagreeable to you as well as to both of us.
"I have read a small pamphlet called 'Sketches,' which, from the style,
I take to be Dr. Armstrong's, though the public voice gives it to Allan
Ramsay.[43:2] I find the ingenious author, whoever he be, ridicules the
new method of spelling, as he calls it; but that method of spelling
_honor_, instead of _honour_, was Lord Bolingbroke's, Dr. Middleton's,
and Mr. Pope's; besides many other eminent writers'. However, to tell
truth, I hate to be any way particular in a trifle; and therefore, if
Mr. Strahan has not printed off above ten or twelve sheets, I should not
be displeased if you told him to follow the usual, that is, his own way
of spelling throughout; we shall make the other volumes conformable to
it: if he be advanced farther, there is no great matter."[43:3]
A letter to Elliot, after some farther recommendations of Hume's
nephew, young Edgar, to his attention, thus proceeds:--
HUME _to_ GILBERT ELLIOT _of Minto_.
"_Edinburgh, 11th May, 1758._
"I have the prospect of paying my respects to you this autumn, in
London. I am now come within sight of land, and am drawing near to a
period of that volume which I had undertaken. I find the subject
curious; and I believe that this volume will contain some novelty, as
well as greater accuracy of composition, than is employed by our
ordinary historians. I could add, greater than is requisite to please
the taste of the public,--at least if we may judge by the vast success
of Dr. Smollett's history. _Vanitas vanitatum, atque omnia vanitas_,
says the Preacher; the great object of us authors, and of you orators
and statesmen, is to gain applause; and you see at what rate it is to be
purchased. I fancy there is a future state, to give poets, historians,
and philosophers their due reward, and to distribute to them those
recompenses which are so strangely shared out in this life. It is of
little consequence that posterity does them justice, if they are for
ever to be ignorant of it, and are to remain in perpetual slumber in
their literary paradise. However, it is some comfort, that virtue is its
own reward, and that a man cannot employ himself in the cultivation of
letters without reaping a real present satisfaction from his industry. I
am, dear sir, your most obliged humble servant.
"P.S.--I am sorry to hear that the bill for the importation of Irish
cattle is rejected. Besides other arguments for it, I remember a strong
argument which was used in Charles II.'s time against the prohibition,
when it was first laid on: it was affirmed that the shipping employed in
that commerce was nearly equal to that which served for the carriage of
coal from Newcastle to London. It is not improbable that this argument
has, at present, escaped all the reasoners on that subject; and I
thought it a proper one to be suggested to a lord of the Admiralty. It
is to be found, if my memory do not deceive me, in Carte's Ormond, and
was employed by that duke."[45:1]
In the year 1759, Adam Ferguson was appointed professor of natural
philosophy in the university of Edinburgh. From the following
correspondence, it appears that Hume and others were desirous that Smith
should occupy a chair in Edinburgh, and, apparently, the same that was
obtained by Ferguson,[45:2] and that Ferguson should succeed Smith in
Glasgow. The singular terms on which the Edinburgh professorship appears
to have been disposed of, were, probably, not such as Smith would accede
to; and we afterwards find Hume conducting a negotiation for Ferguson
alone.
HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.
"_8th June, 1758._
"DEAR SMITH,--I sit down to write to you along with Johnstone; and as we
have been talking over the matter, it is probable we shall employ the
same arguments. As he is the younger lawyer, I leave him to open the
case, and, suppose that you have read his letter first. We are certain
that the settlement of you here, and of Ferguson at Glasgow, would be
perfectly easy, by Lord Milton's interest. The prospect of prevailing
with Abercromby is also very good; for the same statesman, by his
influence over the town council, could oblige him either to attend,
which he never would do, or dispose of the office for the money which he
gave for it. The only real difficulty is, then, with you. Pray, then,
consider that this is, perhaps, the only opportunity we shall ever have
of getting you to town. I dare swear that you think the difference of
place is worth paying something for; and yet it will really cost you
nothing. You made above £100 a-year, by your class, when in this place,
though you had not the character of professor. We cannot suppose that it
will be less than £130 after you are settled. John Stevenson; and it is
John Stevenson, makes near £150, as we were informed upon inquiry.[46:1]
Here is £100 a-year for eight years' purchase; which is a cheap
purchase, even considered as the way of a bargain. We flatter ourselves
that you rate our company at something; and the prospect of settling
Ferguson will be an additional inducement. For, though we think of
making him take up the project if you refuse it, yet it is uncertain
whether he will consent; and it is attended, in his case, with many very
obvious objections. I beseech you, therefore, to weigh all these motives
over again. The alteration of these circumstances merit that you should
put the matter again in deliberation. I had a letter from Miss Hepburn,
where she regrets very much that you are settled at Glasgow, and that we
had the chance of seeing you so seldom. I am," &c.
"P.S.--Lord Milton can, with his finger, stop the foul mouths of all the
roarers against heresy."[47:1]
HUME _to the_ REV. JOHN JARDINE.[47:2]
"REV. SIR,--I am informed, by the late Rev. Mr. John Home, that the
still Rev. Adam Ferguson's affair is so far on a good footing, that it
is agreed to refer the matter to the Justice Clerk, whether more shall
be paid to Mr. Abercromby than he himself gave for that professorship.
Now, as it is obvious that, in these kinds of references, where the
question is not of law and justice, the circumstances of the person are
to be considered, I beg of you to inform my Lord of the true state of
the case. Ferguson must borrow almost the whole sum which he pays for
this office. If any more, therefore, be asked than £1000, it would be
the most ruinous thing in the world for him to accept of the office. I
am even of opinion that if any other method of subsistence offered, it
were preferable to this scheme of paying the length of £1000; at least
such would be my sentiments, if the case were mine.
"If the Justice Clerk considers the matter aright, he will never agree
to so unreasonable a demand as that of paying more; and I hope you will
second these arguments with all your usual eloquence, by which you so
successfully confound the devices of Satan, and bring sinners to
repentance. I am, Rev. Sir, your most obsequious humble servant."[47:3]
Towards the end of the year 1758, but at what particular time is not
more minutely known, Hume went to London, and resided in Lisle Street,
Leicester Fields. His object probably was to superintend the printing
of the "History of the House of Tudor;" but he was able at the same time
to perform essential services to his friend Dr. Robertson, whose
"History of Scotland" was then going through the press in London. Of
Hume's letters to Dr. Robertson, several have been published, though
only in a fragmentary form, in Dugald Stewart's "Life of
Robertson."[48:1] The portions thus preserved, are naturally those which
have most relation to the person to whom they are addressed; but of the
letters themselves, which doubtless, like many others from the same
hand, contained some curious particulars of their author's habits and
passing thoughts, no trace has been found.[48:2] Several of these
letters, written while Robertson's work was at press, have relation to
minor historical questions, which have subsequently been settled. The
following extracts are given, from the parts which have least reference
to these details.
HUME _to_ DR. ROBERTSON.
(_Extracts._)
I am afraid that you, as well as myself, have drawn Mary's
character with too great softenings. She was, undoubtedly, a
violent woman at all times. You will see in _Murden_ proofs of
the utmost rancour against her innocent, good-natured, dutiful
son. She certainly disinherited him. What think you of a
conspiracy for kidnapping him, and delivering him a prisoner
to the King of Spain, never to recover his liberty till he
should turn Catholic? Tell Goodall, that if he can but give me
up Queen Mary, I hope to satisfy him in every thing else; and
he will have the pleasure of seeing John Knox and the
Reformers made very ridiculous. . . .
You have very good cause to be satisfied with the success of
your History, as far as it can be judged of from a few weeks'
publication. I have not heard of one who does not praise it
warmly; and were I to enumerate all those whose suffrages I
have either heard in its favour, or been told of, I should
fill my letter with a list of names. Mallet told me that he
was sure there was no Englishman capable of composing such a
work. The town will have it that you was educated at Oxford,
thinking it impossible for a mere untravelled Scotsman to
produce such language. In short, you may depend on the success
of your work, and that your name is known very much to your
advantage.
I am diverting myself with the notion how much you will profit
by the applause of my enemies in Scotland. Had you and I been
such fools as to have given way to jealousy, to have
entertained animosity and malignity against each other, and to
have rent all our acquaintance into parties, what a noble
amusement we should have exhibited to the blockheads, which
now they are likely to be disappointed of. All the people
whose friendship or judgment either of us value, are friends
to both, and will be pleased with the success of both, as we
will be with that of each other. I declare to you I have not
of a long time had a more sensible pleasure than the good
reception of your History has given me within this fortnight.
_25th January, 1759._
I am nearly printed out, and shall be sure to send you a copy
by the stage-coach, or some other conveyance. I beg of you to
make remarks as you go along. It would have been much better
had we communicated before printing, which was always my
desire, and was most suitable to the friendship which always
did, and I hope always will, subsist between us. I speak this
chiefly on my own account. For though I had the perusal of
your sheets before I printed, I was not able to derive
sufficient benefits from them, or indeed to make any
alteration by their assistance. There still remain, I fear,
many errors, of which you could have convinced me, if we had
canvassed the matter in conversation. Perhaps I might also
have been sometimes no less fortunate with you. Particularly
I could almost undertake to convince you, that the Earl of
Murray's conduct with the Duke of Norfolk was no way
dishonourable. . . .
Dr. Blair tells me that Prince Edward is reading you, and is
charmed. I hear the same of the Princess and Prince of Wales.
But what will really give you pleasure, I lent my copy to
Elliot during the holidays, who thinks it one of the finest
performances he ever read; and though he expected much, he
finds more. He remarked, however, (which is also my opinion,)
that in the beginning, before your pen was sufficiently
accustomed to the historic style, you employed too many
digressions and reflections. This was also somewhat my own
case, which I have corrected in my new edition.
Millar was proposing to publish me about the middle of March;
but I shall communicate to him your desire, even though I
think it entirely groundless, as you will likewise think,
after you have read my volume. He has very needlessly delayed
your publication till the 1st of February, at the desire of
the Edinburgh booksellers, who could no way be affected by a
publication in London. I was exceedingly sorry not to be able
to comply with your desire, when you expressed your wish that
I should not write this period. I could not write downward.
For when you find occasion, by new discoveries, to correct
your opinion with regard to facts which passed in Queen
Elizabeth's days, who, that has not the best opportunities of
informing himself, could venture to relate any recent
transactions? I must, therefore, have abandoned altogether
this scheme of the English history, in which I had proceeded
so far, if I had not acted as I did. You will see what light
and force this History of the Tudors bestows on that of the
Stuarts. Had I been prudent, I should have begun with it. I
care not to boast, but I will venture to say, that I have now
effectually stopped the mouths of all those villanous Whigs
who railed at me.
You are so kind as to ask me about my coming down. I can yet
answer nothing. I have the strangest reluctance to change
places. I lived several years happy with my brother at
Ninewells; and had not his marriage changed a little the state
of the family, I believe I should have lived and died there. I
used every expedient to evade this journey to London; yet it
is now uncertain whether I shall ever leave it. I have had
some invitations, and some intentions, of taking a trip to
Paris; but I believe it will be safer for me not to go
thither, for I might probably settle there for life. No one
was ever endowed with so great a portion of the _vis
inertiae_. But as I live here very privately, and avoid as
much as possible (and it is easily possible) all connexion
with the great, I believe I should be better in Edinburgh. . . . .
_London, 8th February, 1759._
. . . . As to the "Age of Leo the Tenth," it was Warton
himself who intended to write it; but he has not wrote it, and
probably never will. If I understand your hint, I should
conjecture, that you had some thoughts of taking up the
subject. But how can you acquire knowledge of the great works
of sculpture, architecture, and painting, by which that age
was chiefly distinguished? Are you versed in all the anecdotes
of the Italian literature? These questions I heard proposed in
a company of literati, when I inquired concerning this design
of Warton. They applied their remarks to that gentleman, who
yet, they say, has travelled. I wish they do not, all of them,
fall more fully on you. However, you must not be idle. May I
venture to suggest to you the Ancient History, particularly
that of Greece? I think Rollin's success might encourage you;
nor need you be in the least intimidated by his merit. That
author has no other merit but a certain facility and sweetness
of narration; but has loaded his work with silly
puerilities. . . . .
* * * * *
I forgot to tell you, that two days ago I was in the House of
Commons, where an English gentleman came to me, and told me
that he had lately sent to a grocer's shop for a pound of
raisins, which he received wrapped up in a paper that he
showed me. How would you have turned pale at the sight! It was
a leaf of your History, and the very character of Queen
Elizabeth, which you had laboured so finely, little thinking
it would so soon come to so disgraceful an end. I happened a
little after to see Millar, and told him the story;
consulting him, to be sure, on the fate of his new boasted
historian, of whom he was so fond. But the story proves more
serious than I apprehended: for he told Strahan, who thence
suspects villany among his apprentices and journeymen; and has
sent me very earnestly to know the gentleman's name, that he
may find out the grocer, and trace the matter to the bottom.
In vain did I remonstrate that this was sooner or later the
fate of all authors, _serius, ocyus, sors exitura_. He will
not be satisfied; and begs me to keep my jokes for another
occasion. But that I am resolved not to do; and, therefore,
being repulsed by his passion and seriousness, I direct them
against you.
Next week I am published; and then I expect a constant
comparison will be made between Dr. Robertson and Mr. Hume. I
shall tell you in a few weeks which of these heroes is likely
to prevail. Meanwhile, I can inform both of them for their
comforts, that their combat is not likely to make half so much
noise as that between Broughton and the one-eyed coachman.
_Vanitas vanitatum, atque omnia vanitas._ I shall still
except, however, the friendship and good opinion of worthy
men. I am, &c.
_London, 12th March, 1759._
MY DEAR SIR,--I believe I mentioned to you a French gentleman,
Monsieur Helvetius, whose book, "De l'Esprit," was making a
great noise in Europe. He is a very fine genius, and has the
character of a very worthy man. My name is mentioned several
times in his work with marks of esteem; and he has made me an
offer, if I would translate his work into English, to
translate anew all my philosophical writings into French. He
says that none of them are well done, except that on the
"Natural History of Religion," by Monsieur Martigny,[52:1] a
counsellor of state. He added, that the Abbé Prevôt,
celebrated for the _Memoires d'un homme d'Honneur_, and other
entertaining works,[52:2] was just now translating my
History. This account of Helvetius engaged me to send him over
the new editions of all my writings; and I have added your
History, which, I told him, was here published with great
applause; adding, that the subject was interesting, and the
execution masterly; and that it was probable some man of
letters at Paris may think that a translation of it would be
agreeable to the public. I thought that this was the best
method of executing your intentions. I could not expect that
any Frenchman here would be equal to the work. There is one
Carraccioli, who came to me and spoke something of translating
my new volume of History; but as he also mentioned his
intentions of translating Smollett, I gave him no
encouragement to proceed. The same reason would make me averse
to see you in his hands.
But though I have given this character of your work to
Monsieur Helvetius, I warn you, that this is the last time
that, either to Frenchman or Englishman, I shall ever speak
the least good of it. A plague take you! Here I sat near the
historical summit of Parnassus, immediately under Dr.
Smollett; and you have the impudence to squeeze yourself by
me, and place yourself directly under his feet. Do you imagine
that this can be agreeable to me? And must not I be guilty of
great simplicity, to contribute, by my endeavours, to your
thrusting me out of my place in Paris as well as at London?
But I give you warning that you will find the matter somewhat
difficult, at least in the former city. A friend of mine, who
is there, writes home to his father, the strangest accounts on
that head, which my modesty will not permit me to repeat, but
which it allowed me very deliciously to swallow.
I have got a good reason or pretence for excusing me to
Monsieur Helvetius, with regard to the translating his work. A
translation of it was previously advertised here.
_---- 20th, 1759._
I am afraid that my letters will be tedious and disagreeable
to you by their uniformity. Nothing but continued and
unvaried accounts of the same thing must in the end prove
disgusting. Yet since you will hear me speak on this subject,
I cannot help it, and must fatigue your ears as much as ours
are in this place, by endless and repeated, and noisy praises
of the "History of Scotland." Dr. Douglas told me yesterday,
that he had seen the Bishop of Norwich, who had just bought
the book, from the high commendations he heard of it from Mr.
Legge. Mallet told me that Lord Mansfield is at a loss whether
he shall most esteem the matter or the style. Elliot told me,
that being in company with George Grenville, that gentleman
was speaking loud in the same key. Our friend pretended
ignorance; said he knew the author, and if he thought the book
good for any thing, would send for it and read it. "Send for
it, by all means," said Mr. Grenville; "you have not read a
better book of a long time."--"But," said Elliot, "I suppose,
although the matter may be tolerable, as the author was never
on this side the Tweed till he wrote it, it must be very
barbarous in the expression." "By no means," cried Mr.
Grenville. "Had the author lived all his life in London, and
in the best company, he could not have expressed himself with
greater elegance and purity." Lord Lyttelton seems to think
that, since the time of St. Paul, there scarce has been a
better writer than Dr. Robertson. Mr. Walpole triumphs in the
success of his favourites the Scotch, &c. &c. &c.
. . . . . The great success of your book, beside its real
merit, is forwarded by its prudence, and by the deference paid
to established opinions. It gains also by its being your first
performance, and by its surprising the public, who are not
upon their guard against it. By reason of these two
circumstances, justice is more readily done to its merit;
which, however, is really so great, that I believe there is
scarce another instance of a first performance being so near
perfection.
_London, 29th May, 1759._
MY DEAR SIR,--I had a letter from Helvetius lately, wrote
before your book arrived at Paris. He tells me, that the Abbé
Prevôt, who had just finished the translation of my History,
paroit très-disposé à traduire l'Histoire d'Ecosse que vient
de faire Monsieur Robertson. If he be engaged by my
persuasion, I shall have the satisfaction of doing you a real
credit and pleasure; for he is one of the best pens in
Paris.[55:1] . . . . . .
Our friend Smith[55:2] is very successful here, and
Gerard[55:3] is very well received. The Epigoniad I cannot so
much promise for, though I have done all in my power to
forward it, particularly by writing a letter to _The Critical
Review_, which you may peruse. I find, however, some good
judges profess a great esteem for it: but _habent et sua fata
libelli_: however, if you want a little flattery to the
author, (which I own is very refreshing to an author) you may
tell him that Lord Chesterfield said to me he was a great
poet. I imagine that Wilkie will be very much elevated by
praise from an English Earl, and a knight of the Garter, and
an ambassador, and a secretary of state, and a man of so great
reputation. For I observe that the greatest rustics are
commonly most affected with such circumstances.
Ferguson's book[55:4] has a great deal of genius and fine
writing, and will appear in time. . . . .
In 1759, Adam Smith published his "Theory of Moral Sentiments." The
following letters embody Hume's appreciation of that work.
HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.
_London, April 12, 1759._
DEAR SIR,--I give you thanks for the agreeable present of your
Theory. Wedderburn and I made presents of our copies to such
of our acquaintances as we thought good judges, and proper to
spread the reputation of the book. I sent one to the Duke of
Argyle, to Lord Lyttelton, Horace Walpole, Soame Jenyns, and
Burke an Irish gentleman, who wrote lately a very pretty
Treatise on the Sublime. Millar desired my permission to send
one in your name to Dr. Warburton.
I have delayed writing to you, till I could tell you something
of the success of the book, and could prognosticate, with some
probability, whether it should be finally damned to oblivion,
or should be registered in the temple of immortality. Though
it has been published only a few weeks, I think there appear
already such strong symptoms, that I can almost venture to
foretell its fate. It is, in short, this----
But I have been interrupted in my letter by a foolish
impertinent visit of one who has lately come from Scotland. He
tells me that the University of Glasgow intend to declare
Rouet's office vacant, upon his going abroad with Lord Hope. I
question not but you will have our friend Ferguson in your
eye, in case another project for procuring him a place in the
University of Edinburgh should fail. Ferguson has very much
polished and improved his Treatise on Refinement;[56:1] and
with some amendments it will make an admirable book, and
discovers an elegant and a singular genius. The Epigoniad, I
hope, will do; but it is somewhat up-hill work. As I doubt not
but you consult the Reviews sometimes at present, you will see
in _The Critical Review_ a letter upon that poem; and I desire
you to employ your conjectures in finding out the author. Let
me see a sample of your skill in knowing hands by your
guessing at the person.[56:2]
I am afraid of Kames' "Law Tracts." A man might as well think
of making a fine sauce by a mixture of wormwood and aloes, as
an agreeable composition by joining metaphysics and Scottish
law. However, the book, I believe, has merit; though few
people will take the pains of inquiring into it. But to return
to your book, and its success in this town, I must tell
you----
A plague of interruptions! I ordered myself to be denied; and
yet here is one that has broke in upon me again. He is a man
of letters, and we have had a good deal of literary
conversation. You told me, that you was curious of literary
anecdotes, and therefore I shall inform you of a few that
have come to my knowledge. I believe I have mentioned to you
already, Helvetius's book "De l'Esprit." It is worth your
reading, not for its philosophy, which I do not highly value,
but for its agreeable composition. I had a letter from him a
few days ago, wherein he tells me that my name was much
oftener in the manuscript, but that the censor of books at
Paris obliged him to strike it out.
Voltaire has lately published a small work called _Candide,
ou, l'Optimisme_. I shall give you a detail of it. But what is
all this to my book, say you? My dear Mr. Smith, have
patience: compose yourself to tranquillity; show yourself a
philosopher in practice as well as profession: think on the
emptiness, and rashness, and futility of the common judgments
of men; how little they are regulated by reason in any
subject, much more in philosophical subjects, which so far
exceed the comprehension of the vulgar.
----Non si quid turbida Roma,
Elevet, accedas: examenve improbum in illâ
Castiges trutinâ: nec te quaesiveris extra.
A wise man's kingdom is his own breast; or, if he ever looks
farther, it will only be to the judgment of a select few, who
are free from prejudices, and capable of examining his work.
Nothing, indeed, can be a stronger presumption of falsehood
than the approbation of the multitude; and Phocion, you know,
always suspected himself of some blunder, when he was attended
with the applauses of the populace.
Supposing, therefore, that you have duly prepared yourself for
the worst by all these reflections, I proceed to tell you the
melancholy news, that your book has been very unfortunate; for
the public seem disposed to applaud it extremely. It was
looked for by the foolish people with some impatience; and the
mob of literati are beginning already to be very loud in its
praises. Three bishops called yesterday at Millar's shop in
order to buy copies, and to ask questions about the author.
The Bishop of Peterborough said, he had passed the evening in
a company where he heard it extolled above all books in the
world. The Duke of Argyle is more decisive than he used to be
in its favour. I suppose he either considers it as an exotic,
or thinks the author will be serviceable to him in the
Glasgow elections. Lord Lyttelton says that Robertson, and
Smith, and Bower,[58:1] are the glories of English literature.
Oswald protests he does not know whether he has reaped more
instruction or entertainment from it. But you may easily judge
what reliance can be put on his judgment, who has been engaged
all his life in public business, and who never sees any faults
in his friends. Millar exults and brags that two-thirds of the
edition are already sold, and that he is now sure of success.
You see what a son of the earth that is, to value books only
by the profit they bring him. In that view, I believe it may
prove a very good book.
Charles Townsend, who passes for the cleverest fellow in
England, is so taken with the performance, that he said to
Oswald he would put the Duke of Buccleuch under the author's
care, and would make it worth his while to accept of that
charge. As soon as I heard this, I called on him twice, with a
view of talking with him about the matter, and of convincing
him of the propriety of sending that young nobleman to
Glasgow: for I could not hope, that he could offer you any
terms which would tempt you to renounce your professorship;
but I missed him. Mr. Townsend passes for being a little
uncertain in his resolutions; so perhaps you need not build
much on his sally.
In recompense for so many mortifying things, which nothing but
truth could have extorted from me, and which I could easily
have multiplied to a greater number, I doubt not but you are
so good a Christian as to return good for evil; and to flatter
my vanity by telling me, that all the godly in Scotland abuse
me for my account of John Knox and the Reformation. I suppose
you are glad to see my paper end, and that I am obliged to
conclude with--Your humble servant.[58:2]
HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.
_London, 28th July, 1759._
DEAR SIR,--Your friend, Mr. Wilson,[59:1] called on me two
three days ago when I was abroad, and he left your letter. I
did not see him till to-day. He seems a very modest, sensible,
ingenious man. Before I saw him, I spoke to Mr. A. Millar
about him, and found him very much disposed to serve him. I
proposed particularly to Mr. Millar, that it was worthy of so
eminent a bookseller as he, to make a complete elegant set of
the classics, which might set up his name equal to the
Alduses, Stevenses, or Elzevirs; and that Mr. Wilson was the
properest person in the world to assist him in such a project.
He confessed to me that he had sometimes thought of it; but
that his great difficulty was to find a man of letters, who
could correct the press. I mentioned the matter to Wilson, who
said he had a man of letters in his eye: one Lyon, a nonjuring
clergyman at Glasgow. He is probably known to you, or at least
may be so; I would desire your opinion of him.
Mr. Wilson told me of his machines, which seem very ingenious,
and deserve much encouragement. I shall soon see them.
I am very well acquainted with Bourke, who was much taken with
your book. He got your direction from me, with a view of
writing to you, and thanking you for your present; for I made
it pass in your name. I wonder he has not done it: he is now
in Ireland. I am not acquainted with Jenyns; but he spoke very
highly of the book to Oswald, who is his brother in the board
of trade. Millar showed me, a few days ago, a letter from Lord
Fitzmaurice; where he tells him, that he has carried over a
few copies to the Hague, for presents. Mr. York was very much
taken with it, as well as several others who had read it.
I am told that you are preparing a new edition, and propose to
make some additions and alterations, in order to obviate
objections. I shall use the freedom to propose one; which, if
it appears to be of any weight, you may have in your eye. I
wish you had more particularly and fully proved that all kinds
of sympathy are necessarily agreeable. This is the hinge of
your system, and yet you only mention the matter cursorily, in
p. 20. Now, it would appear that there is a disagreeable
sympathy, as well as an agreeable. And, indeed, as the
sympathetic passion is a reflex image of the principal, it
must partake of its qualities, and be painful where that is
so. Indeed, _when we converse with a man with whom we can
entirely sympathize_, that is, where there is a warm and
intimate friendship, the cordial openness of such a commerce
overpowers the pain of a disagreeable sympathy, and renders
the whole movement agreeable. But, in ordinary cases, this
cannot have place. An ill-humoured fellow; a man tired and
disgusted with every thing, always _ennuié_, sickly,
complaining, embarrassed; such a one throws an evident damp on
company, which I suppose would be accounted for by sympathy,
and yet is disagreeable.
It is always thought a difficult problem to account for the
pleasure received from the tears, and grief, and sympathy of
tragedy, which would not be the case if all sympathy was
agreeable. An hospital would be a more entertaining place than
a ball. I am afraid that, in p. 99, and 111, this proposition
has escaped you, or, rather, is interwoven with your
reasonings in that place. You say expressly, "It is painful to
go along with grief, and we always enter into it with
reluctance." It will probably be requisite for you to modify
or explain this sentiment, and reconcile it to your system.
My dear Mr. Smith, you must not be so much engrossed with your
own book as never to mention mine. The Whigs, I am told, are
anew in a rage against me, though they know not how to vent
themselves; for they are constrained to allow all my facts.
You have, probably, seen Hurd's abuse of me. He is of the
Warburtonian school; and, consequently, very insolent and very
scurrilous; but I shall never reply a word to him. If my past
writings do not sufficiently prove me to be no Jacobite, ten
volumes in folio never would.
I signed, yesterday, an agreement with Mr. Millar; where I
mention that I proposed to write the History of England, from
the beginning till the accession of Henry VII.; and he engages
to give me £1400 for the copy. This is the first previous
agreement ever I made with a bookseller.[61:1] I shall execute
this work at leisure, without fatiguing myself by such ardent
application as I have hitherto employed. It is chiefly as a
resource against idleness that I shall undertake this work;
for, as to money, I have enough; and as to reputation, what I
have wrote already will be sufficient, if it be good; if not,
it is not likely I shall now write better. I found it
impracticable (at least fancied so) to write the History since
the Revolution. I am in doubt whether I shall stay here and
execute the work; or return to Scotland, and only come up here
to consult the manuscripts. I have several inducements on both
sides. Scotland suits my fortune best, and is the seat of my
principal friendships; but it is too narrow a place for me;
and it mortifies me that I sometimes hurt my friends. Pray
write me your judgment soon. Are the bigots much in arms on
account of this last volume? Robertson's book has great merit;
but it was visible that he profited here by the animosity
against me. I suppose the case was the same with you. I am,
dear Smith, yours sincerely.[61:2]
In 1758 and 1759, much alarm was caused throughout Britain by a
threatened invasion from France. Hume seems to have "improved" this
state of matters, in the following letters, imparting wild and
exaggerated news. His writing in such a tone, at such a juncture, is an
example of his entertaining the same contempt for panics as for popular
feeling in other forms. There is no address on the first of the letters.
The second would reach its destination nearly at the same time with the
account of Rodney's destruction of the flat-bottomed boats intended for
the invasion.
"_15th May, [1759.]_
"DEAR SIR,--If you pass by Edinburgh, please bring me two pounds of
rapee, such as Peggy Elliot uses to take. You will get it at Gillespy's
near the Cross.
"Mrs. Mallet has her compliments to you, and begs you to procure her a
collection of Scotch pebbles. I assured her that I should inform you of
her desire, and also that you would not fail to execute it.
"We hear that you are to be expelled the university with disgrace. Even
the most partial of your friends here are obliged to allow that you
deserve it.
"We expect over forty thousand French, with the first fair wind. They
will probably settle the ministry; for, at present, the Pitts and the
Legges, and the Grenvilles, are all going by the ears.
"We live in hopes of seeing you soon. My compliments to Smith, whose
book is in a very good way.
"Dr. Warburton presents his compliments to you. Yours sincerely,"
&c.[62:1]
HUME _to_ MR. RUAT.[62:2]
"_6th July [1739.]_
"DEAR RUAT,--I am very much obliged to you for the desire you express to
Miss Elliot of hearing from me; and particularly your wishing to be
informed, by me, of any news that pass. As soon as I knew, certainly,
how to direct to you, I have sat down to write; and, though the
occurrences are no way extraordinary which I can communicate, they
shall all be strictly, and literally, and certainly true; and you may
venture to tell them as such to all the idle people that frequent
Buxton.
"This morning, there arrived an express from Admiral Hawke's fleet,
giving an account that the French fleet had sallied out of Brest, with
twenty-four ships of the line, and had engaged the English fleet, in a
desperate and bloody battle, from morning to night, which ended in a
total victory on our side. There are seven of the French ships sunk and
burnt, and four taken. There are two of our capital ships sunk, and the
admiral's ship was blown up, with its whole company, not one of whom is
saved. Prince Edward, in the Phœnix, behaved to admiration; but,
towards the end of the engagement, an unlucky cannon ball carried away
both his legs, by which it is feared we shall loose that promising young
prince. Our friend, poor Dr. Blair, would not go below deck, but stood
by the prince's side during the whole engagement, till his head was
carried off by a double-headed shot.
"About three hours after the arrival of this express, there arrived
another from the west, giving an account of the landing of the French in
Torbay, to the number of twenty thousand foot, and five thousand horse.
They believe already, in London, that they are sixty thousand strong.
The panic is inconceivable. The people in the country are hurrying up to
town; those in the town are hurrying down to the country. Nobody thinks
of resistance. Every one believes the French, Popery, and the Pretender,
to be at their heels.
"What adds to our general confusion is, the discovery of treachery in
our councils. Mr. Pitt is sent to the Tower, for holding a secret
correspondence with the French:--his ciphers and letters are taken. Mr.
Wood, our friend, (if he can be said to deserve that name,) is thrown
into a dungeon; and there will be certain proofs to convict him of that
treachery.
"In order to prepare the way for this blow, the perfidious French had
employed somebody to blow up the magazine in the Tower. I heard the
explosion this morning about five o'clock. All London is covered with
rubbish, and stones and brick, and broken arms. There fell into our back
court a shattered musket, and the bloody leg of a man. I thought the day
of judgment was come when I first heard the explosion, and began
seriously to think of my sins.
"These events will, all of them, make a figure in future historians; and
it is happy for these gentlemen, who are, or ought to be, very
scrupulous with regard to matters of fact, that they can so well
reconcile the true and the marvellous.
"As to private news, there is little stirring; only Dr. Warburton turned
Mahometan, and was circumcised last week. They say he is to write a
book, in order to prove the divine legation of Mahomet; and it is not
doubted but he will succeed as well as in proving that of Moses. I saw
him yesterday in the Mall with his turban; which really becomes him very
well.
"Poor Andrew Millar is declared bankrupt; his debts amount to above
£40,000, and it is said his creditors will not get above three shillings
in the pound. All the world allow him to have been diligent and
industrious; but his misfortunes are ascribed to the extravagance of his
wife, a very ordinary case in this city.
"Miss ----, yesterday morning declared her marriage with Dr. Armstrong;
but we were surprised in the afternoon to find Mr. Short the optician,
come in and challenge her for his wife. It seems she has been married
privately for some time to both of them. Her sister has been much more
prudent, whom we find to have confined herself entirely to gallantry,
and to have privately entertained a correspondence with three gallants.
I am, dear Ruat, with great truth, your most sincere friend and humble
servant."[65:1]
About the commencement of November, Hume returned to Scotland, for he
writes to Millar on 18th December that he has been six weeks in
Edinburgh. He states, that he is correcting his "History of the
Stuarts;" and says, "I fancy that I shall be able to put my account of
that period of English history beyond controversy. As soon as this task
is finished, I undertake the ancient English history. I find the
Advocates' Library very well provided with books, in this period: but
before I finish, I shall pass a considerable time in London, to peruse
the manuscripts in the Museum."[65:2]
On his return he left behind him, to be published in London, the two
volumes of his "History of England, under the House of Tudor," of which
he says in his "own life,"--"The clamour against this performance was
almost equal to that against the History of the two first Stuarts. The
reign of Elizabeth was particularly obnoxious."
He had now published the whole of that department of his History, from
which his opinions on the later progress of the British constitution can
be derived; and the epoch of this publication calls for some notice of
the manner in which subsequent inquirers have found that he performed
his task.[65:3] He was not like such writers as Clarendon and Brady,
the interested or prejudiced advocate of the crown against the people;
and we must look for the causes of his erroneous views in what he did
not know, or did not believe, rather than in what he wilfully
misrepresented. In his "Essay on Commerce," published in 1752, we find
him thus foreshadowing the principle on which he was to treat the
History of Britain:--"Lord Bacon, accounting for the great advantages
obtained by the English in their wars with France, ascribes them chiefly
to the superior ease and plenty of the common people among the former;
_yet the government of the two kingdoms was at that time pretty much
alike_." This assertion has been satisfactorily proved to be erroneous.
The spirit of credulity in historical inquiry makes out every thing
ancient to be better and greater than its modern representative. The
spirit of scepticism questions whatever is said in favour of antiquity.
The sceptic cannot throw doubt on the existing wonders of modern times.
If one nation is far beyond another in arts, arms, civilization, or
wealth, the facts cannot be denied; but when he looks back into past
ages, the pliability of the evidence admits the influence of the
levelling principle of scepticism, the tendency of which is to make all
mankind seem much alike; and Hume, who would not have ventured to say
that in his own day the constitutions of France and England were very
much alike, considered it but a piece of proper caution to discard as
fallacious the evidence that there was any great difference between them
in former times.
Unquestionably the doubting or inquiring spirit is a valuable quality in
a historian; for the narratives of human affairs are full of
falsehoods, which it is the philosophical historian's function to
discard. But the sifting will not be satisfactory, if the materials
subjected to it have not been largely and laboriously collected; and the
charge against Hume is, that he applied it to imperfect data. Where the
data are insufficient, credulity and scepticism are merely the
counterparts of each other, and produce erroneous results nearly alike.
Those who proclaimed Bruce, the Abyssinian traveller, to be a liar, for
statements which have now been authenticated, believed in the account
given of a fictitious people, in an impudent forgery, called
Psalmanazer's Formosa, which would not now impose for a moment on any
educated person. Our enlarged knowledge of the matters to be subjected
to sceptical analysis, has now, in both cases, brought us to the right
conclusion.
An inquirer into the structure of the earth, who should know nothing of
its crust but the sandy plains of Germany, would, were he of a sceptical
spirit, discredit all those geological wonders which the most sceptical
of scientific men now believe.[68:1] In relation to some parts of the
British constitution, Hume was in the position of such an investigator.
His early prejudice against the study of the law, prevented him from
being fully acquainted with a science, the knowledge of which is
essential to any man who would clearly develop the progress of our
constitution,--the common law of England. He did not understand its
stubborn immovable nature, its solid impregnable masonry, against which
the ambitious violence of monarchs, and the fury of popular tumults
raged in vain. From the day when Gascoigne committed Henry V. to prison,
to that when surly tyrannical old Sir Edward Coke argued face to face
with King James against the interference of the prerogative with the
independent authority of his court, those who were the honest
administrators of the common law held that they were no man's servants,
and no man's masters, but the sworn expounders of a settled rule of
action, which no power within the realm could sway. It might be full of
strange conceits, of passages hard to determine, of unreasonable and
often cruel rules: but what this oracle bade them, that were they bound
to do, be the consequences what they might.
To a mere onlooker, this system appeared to be clumsy and barbarous, and
unendowed with that philosophical symmetry which characterized the rival
system of the civil law. It required that one should have a full
knowledge of its massive structure, and passive power of resistance, to
appreciate its value in a country where king, nobles, and common people,
were alike characterized by party spirit, courage, and restless
activity. A philosopher, indulging in a distant contemplation, would at
once prefer the nice philosophical adaptation to the wants of a state,
and the fine logical structure, with which a despotic power, able to
manipulate the laws at its own will, had endowed the system of
Justinian; and if he found that the administrators of the rude common
law waged a determined war against this philosophical code, his
contempt for the one, and his admiration of the other, would be likely
to be increased. But there is no doubt that the advocates of the common
law were right in resisting the introduction of the pliant principles of
the civilians. If it be true that the common law, and the constitution
which grew along with it, embodied no philosophical principle of
liberty, it is also true that they embodied no philosophical principle
of despotism, such as that which was ready made in the Justinian
legislation. The theories of passive obedience, and the sacredness of
the monarchical character, were strangers to it; and these doctrines, so
attractive to those who profit by them, were introduced by the
civilians. In presence of the unbending operation of the common law, and
dependent on a surly suspicious parliament, the sovereign might yet, if
he were a man of talent and courage, be very powerful and very
tyrannical: but he had none of those attributes through which the
ingenuity of the civilians had divested him of all the moral failings,
so far as they were accompanied with the moral responsibilities of a
human being. He was often a "most dread sovereign:" but it was for these
novel doctrines, the fruit of the reading of the clergy and the
ecclesiastical lawyers, to invest him with the attributes of "sacred
majesty."
The supporters of the common law, and of the old popular rights, strove
to keep the law above the king. Those who drew their constitutional
principles from the civilians and canonists, desired to place the king
above the law. They accomplished their object in name, but not in fact,
by incorporating with the constitutional law those fictions, that the
king never dies, is not responsible, does not require to appear by his
attorney, suffers no laches, &c. But in reality the old principles which
made the king merely the head of a community, all of whom were subjected
to the law, substantially held its ground; for, in so far as the monarch
was exempted from responsibilities, in the same proportion was he
deprived of any powers which he could exercise otherwise than through a
responsible minister.
There was in Hume a like want of appreciation of the value of
parliamentary forms and privileges, and a corresponding indifference
about their violation. He had not sufficiently studied the Journals of
the Commons, and did not trace the rise and development of that system
of procedure which has protected our own liberties, and afforded a model
for the legislative assemblies of all free nations.[71:1] It was in the
Long Parliament, and under the eye of the able men of business who then
held the lead, that this noble system was brought to perfection; but the
reader whose historical information is derived solely from Hume, knows
little of its value. Thus unconscious of the practical importance of the
rights and privileges of the English people, he did not sympathize with
those who expected alarming consequences from their infringement. He
involved those who put the protection of their legal rights to the issue
of the sword, in the same contemptuous estimate with the fanatics whom
he charged with convulsing the state about religious differences of no
essential moment. In either case the event at issue was of so little
importance in his estimation, that he had small charity for those who
made it a vitally important concern.[72:1] But in all these matters we
look back on Hume with the light of later times. To appreciate his
services to constitutional history, we must, while we keep in view the
successful labours of later inquirers, remember how little had been done
by his predecessors. The old chroniclers, such as Hall and Holingshed,
scarcely ever deign to descend from the pride, pomp, and circumstance of
glorious war, to mention constitutional matters; and perhaps, in an
impartial estimate, it will be admitted that in the gradual progress
towards a better appreciation of what is truly valuable in British
history, no one writer has taken so great a stride as Hume.
FOOTNOTES:
[3:1] MS. R.S.E.
[5:1] MS. R.S.E.
[5:2] In a small book, called "Letters on Mr. Hume's History of Great
Britain," Edinburgh, 1756, known to have been written by Daniel
Macqueen, D.D., the chief object is to prove that Hume has not treated
the Roman Catholic religion with sufficient severity, and to supply this
defect in his History. In a few remarks at the end, however, Dr.
Macqueen had the merit of suggesting many of the constitutional
criticisms on Hume, which were afterwards followed out.
[6:1] A sketch of Hume's character and habits, in _The Edinburgh
Magazine_ for 1802, professing to be by one who was personally
acquainted with him, is discredited, by its containing a statement that
he had joined the Roman Catholic Church when he was in France. The
reader will remember that, almost from the moment of his setting foot on
foreign soil, he censures the Roman Catholics, in his letters to his
friends; and nothing could be mentioned more at variance with a known
character, than this writer's assertion, which seems to rest on some
imaginative parallel between the personal history of Hume and that of
Gibbon. As the reader may desire to read the sketch thus condemned, and
to judge for himself of its applicability to Hume, it is here given.
"ANECDOTES OF DAVID HUME, ESQ.
"_By one who personally knew him._
"David Hume was a man of parts, natural and acquired, far
superior to most of mankind; of a benevolent heart, a
friendly, kind disposition, and a real affection for all his
connexions. No man is without his failings; and his great
views of being singular, and a vanity to show himself superior
to most people, led him to advance many axioms that were
dissonant to the opinions of others, and led him into
sceptical doctrines only to show how minute and puzzling they
were to other folk; in so far, that I have often seen him (in
various companies, according as he saw some enthusiastic
person there) combat either their religious or political
principles; nay, after he had struck them dumb, take up the
argument on their side with equal good humour, wit, and
jocoseness, all to show his pre-eminency. For the justness of
these observations, I appeal to his life, wrote by himself,
and published by his friend and admirer, Adam Smith, where you
see he was so chagrined at no notice of, or answer being made
to, his Essays, and was so disappointed, that he proposed to
retire to Saumure, or some other part of France, to be lost to
the unheeding world; and, in short, be a perfect hermit. But,
on being answered by a bishop, on some of his dogmas, and
other favourable circumstances flattering him that he would at
last be conspicuous, he gave up the project, and was first a
companion, for some time, to the Marquis of Annandale; then
librarian to the Advocates here; after that, secretary to
General Sinclair at Turin (who was, under pretence of an
ambassador to his Sardinian Majesty, a spy, as his conduct was
dubious to the allies, against Louis XV.;) afterwards, by
General Conway's interest, secretary to Lord Hertford at
Paris; left there chargé d'affairs; and, finally, one of the
under secretaries of state for about half a year. After which
he settled in Edinburgh for life, and made all his friends and
connexions happy by the possession of so worthy a man.--Thus
far I have given my real sentiments of the man, and can only
now regret that he was so weak as to write his life in the
style he did.
"I must add, that he was a cheerful and most agreeable
companion, well informed, and who accommodated himself to the
company; and, for all his abstruse learning, was never happier
than in a select company of ladies and friends, and fond to
engage in a party at whist, of which game he was a complete
adept, and, of consequence, successful. He never played deep;
never above a shilling, one, two, or three; and I have known
him come into Edinburgh for some weeks, pay his residence
there, and get a recruit of clothes and necessaries out of his
gains; nay, sometimes to have a pound or two to give in
assistance to a necessitous relation; and carry back to his
brother's house, at Ninewells, the cash he brought with him
from that place, in order to defray the expenses of his visit
to the metropolis. General Scott of Balcomie, who was a good
judge in these matters, was so convinced of his superior skill
at whist, that I was assured he offered David his purse to
gamble at London; and that he would give him £1000 a-year if
he would communicate his winnings. This he refused with
disdain, saying, he played for his amusement; and though
General Scott would give him ten times more per annum, he
would be accessary to no such fraudulent doings.
"It was very remarkable, that, though from study and reading
the purest authors in the English language he learnt to write
in a correct and elegant style, yet, in conversing, he spoke
with the tone, idiom, and vulgar voice of the commonalty in
the Merse or Berwickshire. This, I presume, arose from his
having been greatly, in his early years, about his brother's
house, conversing with servants, &c.; and having no ear
(though a foreign or even a dead language, which he acquired
by grammar and rules, he wrote pointedly,) it was impossible
for him to attain, in speaking, any other dialect of the Scots
than that he caught in his childhood: besides, he had but a
creeping voice, rather effeminate than manly.
"I could give you several anecdotes with regard to him; I
shall content myself with one. One day when he was advancing
some irreligious maxims in a sarcastical style, I said to him,
'L----, David, ye are much altered in your sentiments since
you professed yourself a sincere Roman Catholic, confessed
yourself to the priests, declared yourself a sincere penitent,
got absolution, and even extreme unction.' He was much
offended at this, as he believed none knew, in this country,
that all this had happened to him at Nice. He answered in a
huff, 'I was in a high fever then, and did not know what I
said, or they did with me.' I replied, 'You put me in mind of
Patie Birnie's answer to the minister of Kinghorn, who,
stumbling o'er him in a passage dead drunk, said, 'Ah! Patie,
is this your promise that you would never be fu' again, if the
Lord spared you?'--'Wow,' quo' Pate, 'I wonder to hear ane of
your honour's sense mind what ony body says in a red raving
fever; I kent naithing of what was ga'en.' David and I, for
years after, were tolerable good friends, but never so cordial
as before. G. N." [These initials are supposed to be those of
George Nichol, M. P.]
[9:1] Hume was inclined to admire the polity of the Church of England,
on grounds peculiar to himself. The tendency of his remarks on the
wealth and dignity of that establishment, is to hold that heaping riches
and honours on a clergy, by occupying their minds in pomps and vanities,
diverts a certain portion of the spirit of priestcraft from its natural
propensity to subdue or annoy the rest of the community, and is on the
whole a judicious investment of a considerable proportion of the wealth
and honours which may happen to be at the command of a state. Adam
Smith's opinion, on the other hand, was, that the people are best
protected against the influence of priestcraft, by allowing no sect to
have a superiority over others, and by leaving the clergy of different
denominations to expend their zeal in fighting with each other.
[11:1] Original at Kilravock.
[13:1] Scroll in Hume's handwriting, Minto MSS.
[13:2] Four Dissertations: The Natural History of Religion; Of the
Passions; Of Tragedy; Of the Standard of Taste. 8vo, A. Millar. Hume, in
his "own life," says they were published in the interval between the
first and second volumes of his History.
[14:1] In a copy which I possess, after p. 200, the end of the third
dissertation, there are four strips of paper, the remains of half a
sheet cut away. This occurs in signature K, and signature L begins with
the fourth dissertation.
[14:2] Vol. i. p. 246.
[15:1] A simple example tells at once the whole philosophy of this view.
In an unhealthy community, a workman dies after he has been ten years
married, and leaves a widow and children dependant on the public. In a
healthy community, he lives for twenty years after his marriage, and
leaves children grown up and able to provide for themselves.
In general, the aim of all remarks on Hume's writings in the present
work is expository, not controversial. The reader desirous of having
every light thrown on Hume's opinions, will care nothing about mine; but
where, as in the present case, he seems to have gone astray from his own
leading principles, it appeared to be right to notice the aberration.
[16:1] This letter is not dated.
[18:1] MS. R.S.E.
[18:2] He persisted in spelling the poet's name thus.
[19:1] MS. Advocates' Library. A good example of the same thing being
done in two ways, is afforded by comparing Hume's resignation with that
of his venerable predecessor, Ruddiman. The latter is a document of
considerable length, and ends in the following strain:--"But though I
can be no longer serviceable to the honourable Faculty in that my former
capacity, yet there is one duty still in my power, and which can never
be dispensed with; and that is, that from the deep and most grateful
sense which I shall always retain of your great and manifold favours, I
should earnestly pray to Almighty God for the honour, prosperity, and
flourishing state of your most learned and useful society; that ye may
continue a great ornament to those high courts, of which you are
members; and that in them, and every where else, ye may shine forth with
that splendour and dignity, that unblemished character for justice and
probity, and the faithful discharge of all those duties your honourable
profession has laid upon you, for which you are so remarkable; and which
the superior name and rank you bear in the world, give your country just
ground to expect of you.
"This is the last best testimony and assurance I can give, of my most
sincere gratitude, warm affection, and high regard to the honourable
Faculty; and that I am, now, and always, my much honoured patrons and
masters, your most obliged, most humble, and most dutiful servant,--
Dum memor ipse mei, dum spiritus hos regit artus
"T. RUDDIMAN."
[20:1] These two distichs are taken from separate parts of the fourth
book of Ovid's "Tristia." The first is accurate, but the second is
evidently a variation of the following:
Sic ubi mota calent viridi mea pectora Thyrso
Altior humano spiritus ille malo est.
[22:1] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 636. MS. R.S.E.
[23:1] In a work by Dr. John Brown, called, "An Estimate of the Manners
and Principles of the Times," 1757, there is the following passage:--"A
certain historian, of our own times, bent upon _popularity_ and _gain_,
published a large volume, and omitted no opportunity that offered to
disgrace religion. A large impression was published, and a small part
sold. The author being asked why he had so larded his work with
irreligion, his answer implied:--'He had done it that his book might
sell.' It was whispered him, that he had totally mistaken the spirit of
the times;--that no allurements could engage the _fashionable_ infidel
world to travel through a large quarto; and that, as the few readers of
quartos that yet remain lie mostly among the serious part of mankind, he
had offended his best customers, and ruined the sale of his book. This
information had a notable effect; for a second volume, as large and
instructive as the first, hath appeared; not a smack of irreligion is to
be found in it; and an apology for the first concludes the whole."--P.
57.
Dr. Brown's book is said to have been very popular, and to have run to a
seventh edition in a few months. It is rather singular that the edition
marked as the seventh, has precisely the same matter in each page, and
the same number of pages as the first.
[24:1] The letter does not appear to have been preserved.
[25:1] MS. R.S.E.
[25:2] Elliot had been made a Lord of the Admiralty in 1756.
[27:1] Viz. of Edinburgh.
[29:1] Minto MSS.
[29:2] The title of the Epigoniad does not, unfortunately, convey any
associations to the general English reader, who requires to be told that
it is derived from Ἑπίγονοι, or descendants, in allusion to those of
the warriors who had been slain at the first siege of Thebes; and the
main incident of the poem is the subsequent sacking of that city. It is
not difficult for the reader of the better parts of the Epigoniad to
imagine, that he is perusing Pope's translation of Homer. When an
approach was thus made to a model so famous, all was supposed to have
been gained; and it was thought that a work had been produced which
would stand beside the Iliad and the Odyssey. It is hardly necessary, at
the present day, to ask, whether the highest genius will produce an
immortal poem out of the machinery of another age and nation, and
appealing to sentiments which have no response in the habits or feelings
of the people to whom its author appeals? We read the great national
poems of other countries in their own language, because we thus endow
ourselves, as far as it is possible, with the feeling and ideas of those
to whom the poem was addressed. We read spirited translations, because
they are an attempt to represent to us, in our own tongue, that which is
grand in another language; and our interest is like that with which we
view the portrait of a great man. We thus encounter Ulysses, Agamemnon,
and Menelaus in the Iliad, with the interest of excited curiosity; and
those who cannot read the original, are content to make acquaintance
with persons whom a great genius has made so famous, even through a rude
translation. But few cared to meet them reappearing in Wilkie's
imitation; nor, however forcible may be his expressions, or flowing his
versification, do we feel very vividly the horrors of Cacus' den, and
the destructive ire of the Cyclops, or sympathize in the torments of
Hercules, from the Centaur's poisoned robe, when they are described in
the Epigoniad.
[31:1] The paper is reprinted from _The Critical Review_, in the
Appendix to Ritchie's Life of Hume.
[33:1] These fictions were to a considerable extent superseded by an
act, so late as the year 1833; 3 & 4 Will. IV. c. 74.
[34:1] In 1757 Adam Ferguson became tutor to the family of Lord Bute.
[34:2] Minto MSS.
[35:1] Warburton writes as follows to Hurd:--"As to Hume, I had laid it
aside ever since you was here; I will now, however, finish my skeleton.
It will be hardly that. If, then, you think any thing can be made of it,
and will give yourself the trouble, we may, perhaps, between us, do a
little good, which, I dare say, we shall both think worth a little
pains. If I have any force in the first rude beating out of the mass,
you are best able to give it the elegance of form and splendour of
polish. This will answer my purpose; to labour together in a joint work
to do a little good. I will tell you fairly, it is no more the thing it
should be, and will be, if you undertake it, than the Dantzic iron at
the forge is the gilt and painted ware at Birmingham. It will make no
more than a pamphlet; but you shall take your own time, and make it your
summer's amusement, if you will. I propose it to bear something like
this title:--'_Remarks on Mr. Hume's late Essay, called The Natural
History of Religion; by a Gentleman of Cambridge, in a Letter to the
Rev. Dr. W._' I propose the address should be with the dryness and
reserve of a stranger, who likes the method of the letters on
Bolingbroke's Philosophy, and follows it here against the same sort of
writer, inculcating the same impiety, naturalism, and employing the same
kind of arguments. The address will remove it from me; the author, a
gentleman of Cambridge, from you; and the secrecy in printing from us
both."--_Letters from a late Eminent Prelate to one of his Friends_, p.
240. In the immediately preceding letter, we find him saying, "I will
trim the rogue's jacket, at least sit upon his skirts, as you will see
when you come hither, and find his margins scribbled over."
Thus were concocted the "Remarks on Mr. David Hume's Essay on the
Natural History of Religion, addressed to the Rev. Dr. Warburton,"
(1757) wherein the candid author, in pursuance of his instructions,
says, "Of my _person_, indeed, I must have leave to make no discovery;
and to tell you the truth, I have taken such effectual precautions, as
to that particular, that I will venture to say you will never know more
of me than you do at present." The original notes are to be found in the
quarto edition of Warburton's works. Hume says, in his "own life," of
the Natural History of Religion, "Its public entry was rather obscure,
except only that Dr. Hurd wrote a pamphlet against it, with all the
illiberal petulance, arrogance, and scurrility which distinguish the
Warburtonian school. This pamphlet gave me some consolation for the
otherwise indifferent reception of my performance."
[37:1] Probably "An Essay towards a General History of Feudal Property
in Great Britain, under several heads," 1757-8, by Mr. afterwards Sir
John Dalrymple.
[38:1] MS. R.S.E.
[39:1] _Scots Magazine_ for 1802, p. 978.
[40:1] These analogies are taken from the technicalities of Scots law.
The southern reader may as well be informed, that Prescription stands
for "The Statute of Limitations" in Scotland; that a summons is the writ
by which the plaintiff brings the defendant into court; and that "the
lords' row," is the roll of cases in the Court of Session.
[41:1] Original in the possession of the Cambusmore family.
[43:1] MS. R.S.E.
[43:2] The Painter. The "Sketches and Essays on various subjects," were
written by Armstrong.
[43:3] MS. R.S.E.
[45:1] Minto MSS.
[45:2] It appears, however, from a letter to Smith, farther on, that an
attempt had been made to procure a chair for Ferguson, in Edinburgh,
which had failed.
[46:1] John Stevenson was appointed professor of logic and metaphysics
in 1730.
[47:1] MS. R.S.E.
[47:2] Without date.
[47:3] Original in possession of Sir Henry Jardine.
[48:1] Note B.
[48:2] It is also remarkable, that there is not one letter from
Robertson among the MSS. R.S.E., or in any known collection.
[52:1] Perhaps this may be a mistake for M. Mérian, the name of the
author of a translation of this essay, published in 1759.
[52:2] See above, p. 408. See the letters of Helvetius in the Appendix.
He does not seem to have translated any of Hume's works, his proposed
reciprocity treaty not having been concluded. He appears to have had
considerably more at heart the being chosen a member of the Royal
Society of London, as a means of restoring his lost popularity at home.
[55:1] A translation was published in 1764, by Besset de la Chapelle.
[55:2] Theory of Moral Sentiments.
[55:3] Essay on Taste.
[55:4] See next page.
[56:1] Stewart says this is the work subsequently published under the
title of "An Essay on the History of Civil Society." But this may be
doubted: see Hume's Remarks on it at the time of publication.
[56:2] See above, p. 30.
[58:1] This association of names is evidently intended as a sarcasm on
Lord Lyttelton's taste.
[58:2] Stewart's Life of Smith.
[59:1] Probably Mr. Wilson, type-founder, Glasgow; the father of the art
in Scotland.
[61:1] He did not consider his agreement about the Treatise of Human
Nature a "previous" one, as the book was written. See vol. i. p. 65.
[61:2] _Literary Gazette_, 1822, p. 665. Original MS. R.S.E.
[62:1] MS. R.S.E.
[62:2] See this gentleman, who was a professor in Glasgow, mentioned
above, p. 59, where his name is spelt Rouat.
[65:1] MS. R.S.E.
[65:2] MS. R.S.E.
[65:3] An account of all the books in which the constitutional
principles of the history have been ably impugned, would only be
reminding the reader of many works with which he is probably already
familiar. But among the marked productions of this series, if he desire
to have a calm appreciation of the merits of Hume's historical
criticism, by those who have gone over the same ground, he will peruse
the historical works of Hallam, and the treatises of Dr. Allen,
including his articles in _The Edinburgh Review_, and his "Inquiry into
the Rise and Growth of the Royal Prerogative." If, however, he wish to
have all Hume's tergiversations sifted and exposed with forensic
acuteness, and the zeal of an able and vigilant prosecutor,--to have
before him, in short, the whole "case" of the British constitution
against Hume, let him read Brodie's "History of the British Empire." It
will gratify all the admirers of his book to know, that Mr. Brodie is
occupied in the preparation of a new edition of his great work, which
will, no doubt, be marked by all the same qualities which distinguished
the first, increased by farther study and enthusiastic research. It is a
singular incident in literary history, that immediately after the
appearance of the first edition, filled as it is with a prodigious array
of notes and references, the subject was gone over by Godwin in his
"History of the Commonwealth," with but slight reference to Mr. Brodie's
book; but in such a manner, from the structure of his narrative and
otherwise, as to show that he had scarcely any other book before him.
This is not the place for a discussion of Mr. Brodie's charges against
Hume: they are honestly supported by references, and will stand or fall
on their own merits. But there is one instance in which Mr. Brodie's
acuteness has led him farther than every one can follow him. Thus,
speaking of a particular passage of Hume, he says, "he has given the
very words of Perinchief, whom he yet durst not quote; and his
pencil-marks are still at the place in the copy belonging to the
Advocates' Library." This statement, to the effect that there exists
evidence of Hume having read passages which he has designedly avoided
citing, is frequently repeated; and if one would absolutely assure
himself that Hume had read the passages, by reference to the copies of
the books in the Advocates' Library, he finds one or two scores drawn
across the margin with a pencil! The distinguished historical critic,
who has noticed this circumstance, must make some allowance for the
inferior acumen of ordinary readers, if they should fail to discover why
this simple score must of necessity be David Hume--his mark.
Mr. Brodie's book is particularly valuable as a criticism on Hume's
notions of the old prerogative in relation to the Star Chamber, the
Court of High Commission, Martial Law, Impressments, and Forced Loans.
[68:1] Locke gives an admirable illustration of the sceptical spirit
working on imperfect data, in the following anecdote. "It happened to a
Dutch ambassador, who, entertaining the King of Siam with the
particularities of Holland, which he was inquisitive after, amongst
other things, told him, that the water in his country would sometimes,
in cold weather, be so hard, that men walked upon it, and that it would
bear an elephant if he were there. To which the king replied, 'Hitherto
I have believed the strange things which you have told me, because I
look upon you as a sober fair man: but now I am sure you lie.'"--_On the
Understanding_, book iv. chap. 15, § 5.
[71:1] The forms of voting and coming to a decision in the British
Parliament have been adopted by other countries, not from any partiality
towards our systems, but because in this we seem to have approached
abstract perfection; and the framers of codes, after all endeavours to
make forms of like excellence, are obliged to have recourse to those
which have been followed for centuries in St. Stephen's. In the French
Assemblies, ingenuity was frequently exercised in vain to devise some
plan by which, after a series of proposals had been made, and debated
upon, the sense of the meeting in regard to them might be ascertained
and recorded without the record being liable to be questioned as
inaccurate. In the English system, the matter is at once solved. Each
proposed resolution is made and put on record before the discussion
begins, and however many different proposals there may be in relation to
the subject of debate, they must be all put in writing, and each one
must be singly, and without intermixture with the others, adopted or
rejected by a vote of the house.
[72:1] He seems to have afterwards soothed himself with the reflection
that his historical speculations were in favour of the stability of a
fixed government, and opposed to innovating principles. In a letter to
Madame de Boufflers, dated 23d Dec. 1768, he says:--
"Indeed, the prospect of affairs here is so strange and melancholy, as
would make any one desirous of withdrawing from the country at any rate.
Licentiousness, or rather the frenzy of liberty, has taken possession of
us, and is throwing every thing into confusion. How happy do I esteem
it, that in all my writings I have always kept at a proper distance from
that tempting extreme, and have maintained a due regard to magistracy
and established government, suitably to the character of an historian
and a philosopher! I find, on that account, my authority growing daily;
and indeed have now no reason to complain of the public, though your
partiality to me made you think so formerly. Add to this, that the
king's bounty puts me in a very opulent situation. I must, however,
expect that, if any great public convulsion happen, my appointments will
cease, and reduce me to my own revenue: but this will be sufficient for
a man of letters, who surely needs less money both for his entertainment
and credit, than other people."--_Private Correspondence_, p. 266.
CHAPTER XI.
1760-1762. Æt. 49-51.
Alterations of the History in the direction of Despotic
Principles--Specimens--Alterations in Style--Specimens--His
Elaboration--Ossian's Poems--Labours at the early part of the
History--Ferguson's "Sister Peg"--Acquaintance with Madame de
Boufflers--Account of that lady--First intercourse with
Rousseau--Rousseau's position--The exiled Earl Marishal--
Campbell and his Dissertation on Miracles.
We have seen, from various indications in Hume's letters to his friends,
that he employed himself occasionally in corrections and alterations of
the published volumes of his History. In these revisals, and especially
in that of the "History of the Stuarts," his alterations were not
limited to the style. He tells us, with a sort of scornful candour, in
his "own life," "Though I had been taught by experience that the Whig
party were in possession of bestowing all places, both in the state and
in literature, I was so little inclined to yield to their senseless
clamour, that in above a hundred alterations which farther study,
reading, or reflection engaged me to make in the reigns of the two first
Stuarts, I have made all of them invariably to the Tory side. It is
ridiculous to consider the English constitution, before that period, as
a regular plan of liberty."
It was part of his nature, when popular clamour called for the adoption
of a particular course, to turn his steps for that reason the more
distinctly in the opposite direction. He has not exaggerated the extent
or character of his alterations; for an inspection of the various
editions of his History which came under his own revision, shows him, by
turns of expression, structure of narrative, and other gentle
alterations, approaching closer and closer to despotic principles. The
democratic opinions contained in his early essays, have already been
alluded to; and their suppression in subsequent editions, harmonizes
with these variations of the opinions expressed in his History.[74:1]
There are, however, a very few alterations in an opposite spirit. Thus,
in the following sentence relative to the proceedings of the House of
Commons regarding the militia, the part in italics is suppressed in the
later editions. "He [the king] issued proclamations against this
manifest usurpation; _the most precipitant and most enormous of which
there is any instance in the English history_."
On one incident of some importance in history, he was obliged materially
to change his ground of argument, yet would not alter his original
opinion. During the fervour of the civil wars in 1646, Lord Glamorgan
had in the name of Charles I. concluded a treaty with the confederated
Irish Catholics, by which, on the condition of their aiding the king,
besides other concessions, the Roman Catholic religion was to be
restored to its old supremacy through a great part of Ireland. Ormond,
the lord lieutenant, charged Glamorgan with high treason: but he
produced two commissions from the king. The king disowned the
commissions: but the parliament believed in their genuineness.--It was
in this shape that the matter appeared in the first instance before
Hume. In his first edition he accordingly maintained that the
commissions were forgeries; and a long note, explanatory of the grounds
of this belief, is a remarkable instance of a plausible fabric of
historical reasoning, doomed afterwards to fall to pieces by the removal
of its foundation. Before he published his second edition, he received a
letter from the Rev. John Douglas, afterwards Bishop of Carlisle,[78:1]
who was intrusted with the editing of the Clarendon Papers. In this
communication, the reverend gentleman regrets that he cannot send to
Hume a letter written by Glamorgan, describing the method in which the
commissions were actually prepared, and its object; but he gives an
account of the contents of the letter.[78:2] Hume could no longer hold
that the commissions were not genuine: but he still maintained Charles
to be guiltless; and though they were unknown to the lord lieutenant,
and bore no attestation of having passed through the proper offices, he
still argued that Glamorgan, in treating with the Irish, though he was
within the letter of his very wide powers, must have exceeded his
instructions; and ingeniously pointed to his work, "The century of
Inventions," in connexion with which Lord Glamorgan is better known, by
his subsequent title of Marquis of Worcester, as the production of a man
who never could have been trusted with powers so extensive as those
which he arrogated.
Besides the variations in political opinion, there were in the
subsequent editions of Hume's History other alterations suggested by
other influences. His opinions were self-formed, and he jealously
protected them in their formation from the influence of other minds; but
in the cultivation of his style he sought assistance with avidity
from all who could afford it. Hence he appears to have earnestly
solicited the aid of Lyttelton, Mallet, and others, whose experience of
English composition might enable them to detect Scotticisms.
[Illustration: SPECIMEN OF THE M.S. OF HUME'S HISTORY.
REIGN OF HENRY II. PUBLISHED IN 1762.]
Before they went to press, his compositions underwent a minute and
rigorous correction. His manuscripts, as the small fac-simile engraved
for these volumes shows, were subjected to a painful revisal. We
sometimes find him, after he has adopted a form of expression, scoring
it out and substituting another; but again, on a comparison of their
mutual merits, restoring the rejected form, and perhaps again discarding
it when he has lighted on a happier collocation of words.[79:1] It is
worthy of remark, that his most brilliant passages are those which bear
the least appearance of being amended. It is not thence to be inferred
that these passages sprang from his mind in their full symmetry and
beauty: but rather that they had been elaborated, and made ready for
insertion in their proper place, before they were put in writing.
We now resume the correspondence; which will be found to have reference,
among other topics, to the preparation of the History anterior to the
accession of the Tudors.
HUME _to_ ANDREW MILLAR.
"_Edinburgh, 22d March, 1760._
"DEAR SIR,--You gave me a very sensible pleasure in informing me so
early of the success of 'The Siege of Aquileia'[81:1] on its first
representation. I hope it sustained its reputation after it came into
print. I showed Mr. Kincaid your letter; and he has published an
edition here, of a thousand, which go off very well. As he had published
a pamphlet, this winter, which he got from you, I told him that I
fancied you would be satisfied with the same terms, which he then agreed
to.
"I am very busy, and am making some progress; but find that this part of
English History is a work of infinite labour and study; which, however,
I do not grudge; for I have nothing better nor more agreeable to employ
me. I have sent you a short catalogue of books, which either are not in
the Advocates' Library, or are not to be found at present. I must beg of
you to procure them for me, and to send them down with the first ship.
Send me also the prices; for I shall be able to engage the curators of
the library to take from me such as they want at the price.
"Dr. Birch, (to whom make my compliments,) will be so good as to give
you his advice about buying these books; and will tell you if several of
them are collected in volumes, as is often the case with the old English
historians.
"I hope Lord Lyttelton and Mr. Mallet are as busy as I; if so, we may
expect to see their history soon. Please to inform me what you hear of
them. We are informed that Lord Lyttelton is soon to appear. I wish very
much to have the benefit of his work before I go to the press. Donaldson
told me, that Strahan has, at last, finished the small edition of my
Essays, and that you have shipped his and Kincaid's number. They are
resolved, I find, to dispose of them all in this place. I hope you have
not forgot to send me half a dozen of copies in sheets, the number which
we agreed to on any new edition.
"Your press, in London, has been somewhat barren this winter. We have
had nothing from you but a good pamphlet or two, and have, I think,
paid the same in kind. Our militia pamphlet was certainly wrote with
spirit; and has been twice reprinted, as I hear, in London.[83:1] I beg
to be remembered to Mrs. Millar; and please tell her that I am very
sorry we shall not have the pleasure of seeing her here this summer. I
could wish her just as much sickness as to make her sensible that
travelling is good for her. My compliments to Dr. Douglas and Strahan,
and to Friend Cummin, who, I hope, sees now a better prospect of
overcoming all his difficulties. I am," &c.
The following letter, though it must be already familiar to many
readers, is so clear an exposition of the writer's views on some
branches of historical and biographical literature, that it ought not to
be omitted.
HUME _to_ DR. ROBERTSON.
I have frequently thought, and talked with our common friends
upon the subject of your letter. There always occurred to us
several difficulties with regard to every subject we could
propose. The ancient Greek history has several
recommendations, particularly the good authors from which it
must be drawn: but this same circumstance becomes an
objection, when more narrowly considered; for what can you do
in most places with these authors but transcribe and translate
them? no letters or state papers from which you could correct
their errors, or authenticate their narration, or supply
their defects. Besides, Rollin is so well wrote with respect
to style, that with superficial people it passes for
sufficient. There is one Dr. Lelland, who has lately wrote the
life of Philip of Macedon, which is one of the best periods.
The book, they tell me, is perfectly well wrote; yet it has
had such small sale, and has so little excited the attention
of the public, that the author has reason to think his labour
thrown away. I have not read the book; but by the size, I
should judge it to be too particular. It is a pretty large
quarto. I think a book of that size sufficient for the whole
History of Greece till the death of Philip: and I doubt not
but such a work would be successful, notwithstanding all these
discouraging circumstances. The subject is noble, and Rollin
is by no means equal to it.
I own, I like still less your project of the age of Charles
the Fifth. That subject is disjointed; and your hero, who is
the sole connexion, is not very interesting. A competent
knowledge at least is required of the state and constitution
of the empire; of the several kingdoms of Spain, of Italy, of
the Low Countries, which it would be the work of half a life
to acquire; and, though some parts of the story may be
entertaining, there would be many dry and barren; and the
whole seems not to have any great charms.
But I would not willingly start objections to these schemes,
unless I had something to propose, which would be plausible;
and I shall mention to you an idea which has sometimes pleased
me, and which I had once entertained thoughts of
attempting.[84:1] You may observe that, among modern readers,
Plutarch is, in every translation, the chief favourite of the
ancients. Numberless translations and numberless editions have
been made of him in all languages; and no translation has been
so ill done as not to be successful. Though those who read the
originals never put him in comparison either with Thucydides
or Xenophon, he always attaches more the reader in the
translation; a proof that the idea and execution of his work
is, in the main, happy. Now, I would have you think of writing
modern lives, somewhat after that manner: not to enter into a
detail of the actions, but to mark the manners of the great
personages, by domestic stories, by remarkable sayings, and by
a general sketch of their lives and adventures. You see that
in Plutarch the life of Cæsar may be read in half an hour.
Were you to write the life of Henry the Fourth of France after
that model, you might pillage all the pretty stories in Sully,
and speak more of his mistresses than of his battles. In
short, you might gather the flower of all modern history in
this manner: the remarkable Popes, the Kings of Sweden, the
great discoverers and conquerors of the New World; even the
eminent men of letters, might furnish you with matter, and the
quick despatch of every different work would encourage you to
begin a new one. If one volume were successful, you might
compose another at your leisure, and the field is
inexhaustible. There are persons whom you might meet with in
the corners of history, so to speak, who would be a subject of
entertainment quite unexpected; and as long as you live, you
might give and receive amusement by such a work; even your
son, if he had a talent for history, would succeed to the
subject, and his son to him. I shall insist no farther on this
idea; because, if it strikes your fancy, you will easily
perceive all its advantages, and, by farther thought, all its
difficulties.[85:1]
In 1760, Macpherson published those "Fragments of Ancient Poetry,
collected in the Highlands of Scotland, and translated from the Gaelic
or Erse language," which, afterwards enlarged, became the celebrated
"Ossian's Poems." Hume took an early interest in this professed
resuscitation of early national literature. He at first doubted the
truth of assertions so unprecedented in literary history, as those by
which the genuineness of the poems was maintained. But there was nothing
to which his heart would have responded with a warmer enthusiasm than
the discovery, that his ancestors, generally reputed to be but late
accessions to civilization, could look back upon a literature as rich
and great as that which had crowned Greece with the literary supremacy
of the world. Hence, he seems to have, after some time, willingly
yielded to a belief in the genuineness of these poems. His good sense
and sceptical spirit, however, resumed the supremacy, and he afterwards
wrote a very searching though short "Essay on the Authenticity of
Ossian's Poems." It is printed in the Appendix; and thither the whole
correspondence on the subject is transferred, that the reader may peruse
the various pieces in a series. It is probable that the sole reason why
Hume never published this detection, was a kindly feeling to his friend
Dr. Blair, against whom he might not wish to appear in a controversy,
where the critical powers of the latter would be so severely tested. And
yet they stood on perfectly fair ground. Neither Hume nor Blair had any
knowledge of the archæological merits of the question. Each of them
discussed the probable genuineness of the poems on grounds as purely
critical as if they had been brought from Central Africa, instead of
being the alleged literature of a people who are supposed to have at one
time occupied the ground on which Edinburgh is built; and at the time of
that controversy, as at the present day, might be visited on a journey
of fifty miles. In such a state of knowledge, it required great freedom
and decision in criticism to pronounce the poems forgeries. Then, as
now, every genuine Celt protested that he had heard them over and over
again in Gaelic with his own ears; and with this only difference from
the translation, that there were peculiar delicate beauties in the
native Gaelic, which neither Macpherson, nor any other man, was capable
of expressing in English. In such an unequal controversy, between the
internal evidence of criticism, and the external evidence of broad
assertion, it is singular that no one should have attempted to solve the
question through the faint light which the chronicles of the surrounding
tribes throw on the history of the Celts in Scotland. That knowledge has
now been pretty widely extended; and hence "Ossian's Poems" have been
estimated at their true value, as an embossment of poetical language and
imagery, on the surface of such barren metrical narratives as all
uncivilized and warlike people possess; it has been found that the
structure of the narratives, the characteristic names, the events of
history, and the manners of the times, have been treated with no more
deference, when an alteration was found to suit the purpose of the
"translator."[87:1]
Intensely occupied with his History anterior to the accession of the
Tudors, we thus find Hume writing to Millar on 27th October:--
"I have been very busy ever since I came down; and if I keep my health,
shall be able to publish the winter after the next, or at farthest in
the subsequent spring; which I fancy will serve your purpose well
enough. At any rate, this is not a matter which I can hurry on faster
than I am able to satisfy myself in the execution.
"I am very much pleased with what you tell me, that the Clarendon Papers
have fallen into Dr. Douglas's hands, especially as Dr. Robertson tells
me he intends to publish them. What my sentiments are on the question
you mention, you may learn from my letter to the Doctor, which I have
sent you open, and which I beg you to take the trouble of sending; for I
do not know how to direct it."
Hume wished to amuse himself with mystifying his friends about the
pamphlet above alluded to, called Sister Peg. The circumstance which
suggested to him the following letter, is said to have been his being
kept in ignorance that his friend Ferguson was the author of the piece.
HUME _to_ DR. CARLYLE.
"_Edinburgh, 3d February, 1761._
"DEAR SIR,--I am informed that you have received a letter from London,
by which you learn that the manuscript of Sister Peg has been traced to
the printer's, and has been found to be, in many places, interlined and
corrected in my handwriting. I could have wished that you had not
published this piece of intelligence before you told me of it. The truth
is, after I had composed that trifling performance, and thought I had
made it as correct as I could, I gave it to a sure hand to be
transcribed, that in case any of the London printers had known my hand,
they might not be able to discover me. But as it lay by me some weeks
afterwards, I could not forbear reviewing it; and not having my
amanuensis at hand, I was obliged in several places to correct it
myself, rather than allow it to go to the press with inaccuracies of
which I was sensible. I little dreamed that this small want of
precaution would have betrayed me so soon; but as you know that I am
very indifferent about princes or presidents, ministers of the gospel or
ministers of state, kings or keysars, and set at defiance all powers,
human or infernal, I had no other reason for concealing myself, but in
order to try the taste of the public; whom, though I also set in some
degree at defiance, I cannot sometimes forbear paying a little regard
to. I find that frivolous composition has been better received than I
had any reason to expect, and therefore cannot much complain of the
injury you have done me by revealing my secret, and obliging me to
acknowledge it more early than I intended. The only reason of my writing
to you is, to know the printer's name, who has so far broke his
engagements as to show the manuscript; for the bookseller assured my
friend to whom I intrusted it, that we might depend upon an absolute
secrecy. I beg my compliments to Mrs. Carlyle, and am, dear sir,"
&c.[89:1]
We see by the date of the following letter, that Hume varied his city
life with an occasional residence with his brother in Berwickshire.
HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.
"_Ninewells, 29th June, 1761._
"DEAR SMITH,--As your professorship of Hebrew is vacant, I have been
applied to in behalf of young Mr. Cummin; and you are the person with
whom I am supposed to have some interest. But as I imagine you will not
put this election on the footing of interest, I shall say nothing on
that head; but shall speak much more to the purpose by informing you,
that I have known Mr. Cummin for some time, and have esteemed him a
young man of exceeding good capacity, and of a turn towards literature.
He tells me that he has made the oriental tongues, and particularly the
Hebrew, a part of his study, and has made some proficiency in them. But
of this fact, craving his pardon, I must be allowed to entertain some
doubt; for if Hebrew roots, as Cowley says, thrive best in barren
soil,[90:1] he has a small chance of producing any great crop of them.
But as you commonly regard the professorship of Hebrew as a step towards
other professorships, in which a good capacity can better display
itself, you will permit me to give it as my opinion, that you will find
it difficult to pitch on a young man, who is more likely to be a credit
to your college, by his knowledge and industry.
"I am so far on my road to London, where I hope to see you this season.
I shall lodge in Miss Elliot's, Lisle Street, Leicester Fields; and I
beg it of you to let me hear from you the moment of your arrival."[90:2]
In 1761, commenced Hume's acquaintance with Madame de Boufflers. It
afterwards ripened into a friendship, of which we cannot fully estimate
the nature, without looking not only at the character and position of
the parties, but at some conventional notions of morality, to which Hume
had been, previously, a stranger. Hyppolyte de Saujon, Comtesse de
Boufflers-Rouvel, is not to be confounded with her contemporary the
Marquise de Boufflers-Rémencourt, mother of the witty Chevalier de
Boufflers. The prominent difference between them is but too startlingly
characteristic of the moral atmosphere in which they both lived--that
the former was mistress of the Prince of Conti, while the latter is
supposed to have held the same relation to Prince Stanislaus Augustus of
Poland, of whose court she was the great ornament and attraction. A
friendship between a respectable Scotsman of letters and a person in
Madame de Boufflers' position, is apt to excite a smile or a frown,
according to the habits or temper of the reader. Hume himself was not
likely to take the most austere view of the matter; and must have felt,
at any rate, that the scandal and even the blame of such connexions must
be greatly affected by the countenance they receive from the society to
which the parties belong. On the vileness of this code of organized
immorality, it would be superfluous, at this hour, to enlarge; but there
is a great difference between those who act up to the standard of a low
social system and those who do the same acts in breach of a higher code.
A Mahomedan who keeps a harem in Constantinople is inferior in his tone
of morality to an English gentleman, of good domestic conduct; but he is
infinitely superior to an Englishman with a harem in Piccadilly.
The lady in question undoubtedly held a very high station in the best
society of Paris; and at that time, and in that country, it is certain
that such attachments, if permanent and decorous, and in a very high
class of society, acquired a more than tolerated respectability. In
1769, Madame de Boufflers speaks of her attachment as one of twenty
years' duration. Early in life, and soon after her marriage, she had
been placed at the court of the Duchess of Orleans: but quarrelling with
that princess, she came under the protection of the Prince of Conti. Of
course, her correspondence bears no mark of her having been subjected to
slights, or of her dreading them; or indeed of any suspicion that there
was any thing in her position to prevent her from being rigid in her
ideas of virtue, and a teacher of social duties. On her visit to
England, she was well received by the British aristocracy, and was even
honoured by a laudatory growl from Johnson. We find her exchanging
visits with the Marchioness of Hertford, the wife of the English
ambassador, one of the purest of that portion of the English female
aristocracy which had not suffered taint. In one of her letters to Hume,
she describes the death-bed of the prince's mother; speaks of her
displaying the heroism of a grand-daughter of the great Condé; and talks
with tearful gratitude of the early kindness of that princess to
herself, and of her attempts to pay the debt by solacing her old age,
and performing to her the last duties which the living receive from each
other. It is in all its spirit the letter of a daughter-in-law.
The prince, though a generous and kind-hearted man, could not be
prevailed on to make her his wife on her husband's death; but when he
died in 1776, he had raised no princess over her head. We shall find
that she made Hume the confidant in her griefs and disappointments, and
the adviser in her difficulties. There is a great air of earnestness and
solicitude in these appeals; and though we cannot help presuming, that a
woman so full in her disclosures to a foreigner, living among a people
of totally different habits and morals, must have distributed a still
larger portion of her confidential revelations nearer home; yet it is
evident that she had much reliance on Hume's counsel, and perhaps he was
not ill fitted for a father-confessor to such a penitent.
The letters of Hume to the countess, have already been for some time
before the English reader.[92:1] On the present occasion some
characteristic extracts will be interwoven with the letters which form
the other side of the correspondence. It is difficult for a native of
this country, with the fullest allowance for the redundancy of the
French laudatory and amicable vocabulary, to estimate at its true value
the ardour of these letters, or to adjust the amount of solid truth and
friendliness represented by such a blaze of ardent expressions. The
correspondence was of the lady's seeking and pursuing. Frequently, when
there is a pause, an impassioned letter from her rouses up the
philosopher; who starts into a sort of artificial excitement, and, when
it is over, sinks into lethargy again. Yet it must be admitted that Hume
acted his part pretty well, and that the fat philosopher was not far
behind the vivacious Frenchwoman. But with him it is visibly all acting;
and there is a total absence of the playful ease which adorns those
letters to his own chosen friends, with whom he was in heart and habits
at ease. In some instances, perhaps, he studied a formal and measured
style, as being more intelligible to a foreigner; and occasionally we
find him offering his correspondent facilities by the adoption of idioms
more French than English; as where he says, "I am truly ashamed, dear
madam, of your having _prevented_ me in breaking our long silence; but
you have _prevented_ me only a few days."[93:1]
The letter with which the countess opens the correspondence, seems to
have been forwarded to Hume by Lord Elibank's brother, Alexander Murray,
who was then mixing with the Jacobites abroad, and who appears to have
enjoyed a very wide and much varied circle of acquaintance in France. He
says, in a letter of the 18th May, 1761:--
"MY DEAR SIR,--It would appear great presumption in me to make you any
compliments upon your History of England, after having read the
enclosed; which with infinite pleasure I send you, as it procures you a
correspondence with the most amiable and accomplished lady of this
kingdom, or indeed any other. If after the peace you take a trip to this
polite and elegant country, you are sure, by the means of your new
female correspondent, of being made acquainted in a very short time with
all the wits in this part of the world. It is true your most
incomparable productions justly entitle you to that distinction.
However, being took by the hand by Madame de Boufflers, won't diminish
your intrinsic value, even among the most profound philosophers. In case
I can't return to England, and you take the resolution of coming here .
. . . . . I beg leave to assure you that I am, with as much esteem and
veneration as human creature can be, my dear sir, your most obedient and
most humble servant, and avowed friend,
"A. MURRAY.
"When you answer the enclosed, I beg it may be in English, as the lady
is quite mistress of that language."[94:1]
The letter forwarded to Hume was as follows:
MADAME DE BOUFFLERS _to_ HUME.
(_Translation._)
For a long time, sir, I have struggled with conflicting
sentiments. The admiration which your sublime work has
awakened in me, and the esteem with which it has inspired me
for your person, your talents, and your virtue, have often
aroused the desire of writing to you, that I might express
those sentiments towards you with which I am so deeply
penetrated.
On the other hand, keeping in view the little value you can
have for my opinion, your want of personal acquaintance with
me, and the reserve and privacy, even, which are suitable to
my sex, I fear being accused of presumption, and of making
myself be known, to my own disadvantage, by a man whose good
opinion I shall always regard as the most flattering, and the
most precious of benefits. Nevertheless, although the
reflections I have made on this subject appeared to have much
force, an irresistible inclination rendered them unavailing;
and I come to add one to the thousand other instances, to
justify the truth of that remark which I have read in your
"History of the House of Stuart,"--"Men's views of things are
the result of their understanding alone: their conduct is
regulated by their understanding, their temper, and their
passions." Thus, when my reason tells me I ought to be silent,
my enthusiasm prevents me from regarding its voice.
Although a woman, and of no very advanced age, despite the
dissipation attendant on the life one leads in this country,
having always loved reading, there are few good books in any
language, or of any kind, that I have not read, either in the
original, or in translations; and I can assure you, sir, with
a sincerity which cannot be questioned, that I have found none
which, to my judgment, unites so many perfections as your own.
I know no terms capable of expressing what I felt in reading
this work. I was moved, transported: and the emotion which it
caused me is, in some measure, painful by its continuance. It
elevates the soul; it fills the heart with sentiments of
humanity and benevolence; it enlightens the intellect, by
showing that true happiness is closely connected with virtue;
and discovers, by the same light, what is the end, and the
sole end, of every reasonable being. In the midst of the
calamities which, on all sides, surrounded Charles the First,
we see peace and security shining in their brightness, and
accompanying him to the scaffold; whilst trouble and remorse,
the inseparable companions of crime, follow the steps of
Cromwell, even to the throne.
Your book also teaches how the best of things are liable to
abuse; and the reflections which are made on this subject
ought to augment our caution and distrust of ourselves. It
animates with a noble emulation; it inspires love of liberty;
and teaches, at the same time, submission to the government
under which we are obliged to live. In a word, it is a _terra
fecunda_ of morals and instruction, presented in colours so
bright, that we believe we see them for the first time.
The clearness, the majesty, the touching simplicity of your
style delight me. Its beauties are so striking, that,
notwithstanding my ignorance of the English language, they
cannot escape me. You are, sir, an admirable painter: your
pictures have a grace, a nature, an energy, which surpass even
what the imagination can portray.
But how shall I be able to express the effect produced upon me
by your divine impartiality? I would that I had, on this
occasion, your own eloquence in which to express my thought!
In truth, I believed I had before my eyes the work of some
celestial being, free from the passions of humanity, who, for
the benefit of the human race, has deigned to write the events
of these latter times.
I dare only add, that in all which issues from your pen, you
show yourself a perfect philosopher, a statesman, a historian
full of genius, an enlightened politician, a genuine patriot.
All these sublime qualities are so far above the understanding
of a woman, that it is fitting I should say little on the
subject; and I have already great need of your indulgence for
the faults I have committed against discretion and decorum, by
the excess of my veneration for your merit. I entreat this of
you, sir, and, at the same time, the greatest secrecy. The
step I have taken is rather extraordinary. I fear it may
attract blame: and I would be grieved if the sentiment which
has constrained me to it should be misunderstood.
I have the honour to be, sir, your very humble and very
obedient servant,
HYPPOLYTE DE SAUJON, COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.
They tell me, sir, you have some idea of coming to France--to
Paris. I earnestly wish you would execute this resolution,
and that I may be able to assist in rendering your sojourn
agreeable.
PARIS, _15th March, 1761_.[97:1]
Hume must have been the more than mortal being which his new friend
describes, if he had resisted such an appeal; and he thus wrote in
answer:--
HUME _to the_ COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.
_Edinburgh, 15th May, 1761._
MADAM,--It is not easy for your ladyship to imagine the
pleasure I received from the letter, with which you have so
unexpectedly honoured me, nor the agreeable visions of vanity,
in which, upon that occasion, I indulged myself. I concluded,
and, as I fancied, with certainty, that a person, who could
write so well herself, must certainly be a good judge of
writing in others; and that an author, who could please a lady
of your distinction, educated in the court of France, and
familiarized with every thing elegant and polite, might
reasonably pretend to some degree of merit, and might presume
to take his rank above the middling historians. But, madam, it
is but fair, that I, who have pretended, in so long a work, to
do justice to all parties and persons, should also do some to
myself; and should not feed my vanity with chimeras, which, I
am sensible, in my cooler moments, can have no foundation in
reason. When I had the pleasure of passing some time in
France, I had the agreeable experience of the polite
hospitality, by which your nation is distinguished; and I now
find, that the same favourable indulgence has appeared in your
ladyship's judgment of my writings. And, perhaps, your esteem
for the entire impartiality which I aim at, and which, to tell
the truth, is so unusual in English historians, has made your
ladyship overlook many defects, into which the want of art or
genius has betrayed me.
In this particular, madam, I must own, that I am inclined to
take your civilities in their full latitude, and to hope that
I have not fallen much short of my intentions. The spirit of
faction, which prevails in this country, and which is a
natural attendant on civil liberty, carries every thing to
extremes on the one side, as well as on the other; and I have
the satisfaction to find, that my performance has alternately
given displeasure to both parties. I could not reasonably hope
to please both: such success is impossible from the nature of
things; and next to your ladyship's approbation, who, as a
foreigner, must necessarily be a candid judge, I shall always
regard the anger of both as the surest warrant of my
impartiality.
As I find that you are pleased to employ your leisure hours in
the perusal of history, I shall presume to recommend to your
ladyship a late work of this kind, wrote by my friend and
countryman, Dr. Robertson, which has met with the highest
approbation from all good judges.
It is the "History of Scotland" during the age of the
unfortunate Queen Mary; and it is wrote in an elegant,
agreeable, and interesting manner, and far exceeding, I shall
venture to say, any performance of that kind that has appeared
in English. The failings of that princess are not covered
over; but her singular catastrophe is rendered truly
lamentable and tragical; and the reader cannot forbear
shedding tears for her fate, at the same time that he blames
her conduct. There are few historical productions, where both
the subject and execution have appeared so happy.
Some prospect is now given us, that this miserable war between
the two nations is drawing towards a period, and that the
former intercourse between them will again be renewed. If this
happy event take place, I have entertained hopes that my
affairs will permit me to take a journey to Paris; and the
obliging offer, which you are pleased to make me, of allowing
me to pay my respects to you, will prove a new and very
powerful inducement to make me hasten the execution of my
purpose.
But I give your ladyship warning, that I shall, on many
accounts, stand in need of your indulgence. I passed a few
years in France during my early youth; but I lived in a
provincial town, where I enjoyed the advantages of leisure for
study, and an opportunity of learning the language: what I had
imperfectly learned, long disuse, I am afraid, has made me
forget. I have rusted amid books and study; have been little
engaged in the active, and not much in the pleasurable scenes
of life; and am more accustomed to a select society than to
general companies.
But all these disadvantages, and much greater, will be
abundantly compensated by the honour of your ladyship's
protection; and I hope that my profound sense of your obliging
favours will render me not altogether unworthy of it.
I have the honour to be, with the greatest respect, madam,
your ladyship's most obedient and most humble servant.[101:1]
In return, Madame De Boufflers reiterates her compliments, vouches for
her sincerity, and if Hume should fulfil his intention of visiting
France, offers him the use of apartments, saying, that if he accept the
offer it will be an infinite obligation to her; if he refuse it, she
will be vexed but not offended. She will introduce him to her circle of
friends, and do every thing that can tend to make his visit
agreeable.[101:2] In answer to this, Hume finds that the warlike aspect
of affairs will preclude him, in the meantime, from enjoying the society
"of a person so celebrated for her accomplishments by all who have any
knowledge of the court of France."[101:3]
Mr. Murray's praise of Madame de Boufflers' knowledge of the English
language was not misapplied; as the following short letter, and another
of greater length, which will be found a few pages farther on, show.
With a few inaccuracies, they afford a very remarkable instance of
idiomatic acquaintance with our tongue.
"I have received, sir, by an unknown hand, the continuation of your
admirable performance. Some little perhaps of the pride so common in my
sex, but much more the desire to contract an obligation with a man of
your merit, and to obtain from him so valuable a favour, have persuaded
me I was indebted to you for it. 'Tis natural to bend our thoughts
towards what is most advantageous for us, however elevated it may be.
The wrong should be only to believe we deserve it. Then, sir, I think,
that in wishing such a proof of your kindness, and confessing in the
same time I have no right to pretend to it, I prove my just opinion of
both. I am, sir, your humble servant.
"_Paris, May 29, 1762._"
On this, Hume, after observing with ingenious courtesy, that a fairy, a
sylph, or a good genius, who knew his inmost thoughts, must have
anticipated him in sending the copy of his History, continues:--"But,
madam, what new wonder is this which your letter presents to me? I not
only find a lady, who, in the bloom of beauty and height of reputation,
can withdraw herself from the pleasures of a gay court, and find leisure
to cultivate the sciences; but deigns to support a correspondence with a
man of letters in a remote country, and to reward his labours by a
suffrage the most agreeable of all others, to a man who has any spark of
generous sentiments or taste for true glory. Besides these unusual
circumstances, I find a lady, who, without any other advantages than her
own talents, has made herself mistress of a language commonly esteemed
very difficult to strangers, and possesses it to such a degree as might
give jealousy to us who have made it the business of our lives to
acquire and cultivate it.
"I cannot but congratulate my country on this incident, which marks the
progress made by its literature and reputation in foreign countries."
* * * * *
Nearly contemporary with the Comtesse de Boufflers, comes on the scene a
person with whom we shall hereafter have much concern, Jean Jacques
Rousseau. He had been living under the protection of the Maréchal de
Luxembourg, in the celebrated hermitage near the castle of Montmorency,
when he published his "Emile." Highly as he was supported, the wrath of
the clergy prevailed; and a writ of _prise de corps_ was issued for his
apprehension. It appears that in those strange times of intolerance and
infidelity, there would have been no cause of wonder, if the proceedings
had ended in a capital conviction. With the aid of his friends, the
Luxembourgs and Choiseuls, Rousseau fled the kingdom. On this occasion
he seems to have been thoroughly frightened; and his conduct was
occasioned neither by ostentation, nor perverse discontent. His first
place of refuge was Neufchâtel, one of the Swiss Cantons, of which the
sovereignty was in the house of Brandenburg. Rousseau was thus for a
time one of the illustrious literary men under the protection of
Frederick the Great, though distant from his philosophical capital.
He appealed, however, to a warmer heart than ever beat in the breast of
the conqueror of Prague. The exiled Earl Marischal of Scotland--a valued
friend of Hume, as of all who became acquainted with him--was then
Governor of Neufchâtel. Subsequently to his flight from his native
country, for his concern in the rebellion of 1715, when he was a mere
youth, he had suffered a long series of hardships, privations, and
uncertainties; until Frederick saw his value, and purchased his services
at such a rate as a friendless exile might not refuse. Adversity, which
too often hardens the selfishness, and debases the propensities of an
aristocracy driven from home by internal convulsions, had but taught him
how much men are dependent on each other, and had opened his heart to a
wider sympathy with his fellow creatures. His opinions were as tolerant
as his nature was kind; and the fugitive could not have sought an asylum
where he would be more sincerely welcomed. The power of the king of
Prussia's representative, was, however, not sufficient to protect him
from the people,--or from himself; and from the time of his flight from
France, those who believed that he sincerely desired a retreat where he
would be safe from all molestation, looked towards Britain. The
following letters from the forfeited earl, at a few months' interval
from each other, chiefly relate to Rousseau. The earl appears to have
been so thoroughly imbued with foreign habits, that he wrote English
with difficulty: most of his letters to Hume are in French, and when he
commences in English, he generally relapses into French. Though so long
employed by the Prussian court, he seems to have been ignorant of
German. It may be observed, however, that French is the vernacular
language of Neufchâtel.
THE FORFEITED EARL MARISCHAL _to_ HUME.
_April 29._
In answer to your question, the Donquixotisme you mention
never entered into my head. I wish I could see you, to answer
honestly all your questions; for though I had my share of
folly with others, yet as my intentions were at bottom honest,
I should open to you my whole budget, and let you know many
things which are perhaps ill-represented, I mean not truly. I
remember to have recommended to your acquaintance Mr. Floyd,
son to old David Floyd, at St. Germains, as a man of good
sense, honour, and honesty. I fear he is dead: he would have
been of great service to you in a part of your History since
1688. Apropos of History, when you see Helvetius, tell I
desired you to inquire of him concerning a certain History. I
fancy he will answer you with his usual frankness. I do
believe Mr. Rousseau will find it impossible to live where he
finds nobody who understands a word of what he says; there
occurs so often occasion, even of trifling things necessary,
that it is a vexation not to understand the language of the
country. I feel it often, though I understand many words of
German, such as kleigh, nigh, nogh, ter migh, ter
Teyfel,[105:1] and others, high sounding as here pronounced,
and of which the Ter Tunder would, I believe, put to flight
the delicate ears of the whole town of Sienna.
I hear you are going to France this summer. If you will come
to Frankfort on Main, I will meet you there the end of July,
and stay with you a fortnight. Bon jour.
N.B.--You have better roads than I, you are strong as a giant,
and I am growing ten years older every month; so I think my
offer fair.
_Oct. 2, 1762._
Jean Jacques Rousseau, persecuted for having writ what he
thinks good, or rather, as some folks think, for having
displeased persons in great power, who attributed to him what
he never meant, came here to seek retreat, which I readily
granted; and the king of Prussia not only approved of my so
doing, but gave me orders to furnish him his small
necessaries, if he would accept them; and though that king's
philosophy be very different from that of Jean Jacques, yet he
does not think that a man of an irreproachable life is to be
persecuted because his sentiments are singular. He designs to
build him a hermitage with a little garden, which I find he
will not accept, nor perhaps the rest which I have not yet
offered to him. He is gay in company, polite, and what the
French call _aimable_, and gains ground daily in the opinion
of even the clergy here. His enemies elsewhere continue to
persecute him: he is pestered with anonymous letters. This is
not a country for him: his attachment and love to his native
town is a strong tie to its neighbourhood. The liberty of
England, and the character of my good and honoured friend, D.
Hume, F----i D----r, (perhaps more singular than that of J.
Jacques, for I take him to be the only historian impartial,)
draws his inclinations to be near to the F----i D----r. For my
part, though it be to me a very great pleasure to converse
with the honest savage, yet I advise him to go to England,
where he will enjoy
----placidam sub libertate quietem.
He wishes to know, if he can print all his works, and make
some profit, merely to live, from such an edition. I entreat
you will let me know your thoughts on this, and if you can be
of use to him in finding him a bookseller to undertake the
work: you know he is not interested, and little will content
him. If he goes to Britain, he will be a treasure to you, and
you to him, and perhaps both to me (if I were not so old.) I
have offered him lodging in Keith-hall. I am ever, with the
greatest regard, your most obedient servant,
M----.
At the same time Madame de Boufflers wrote as follows:--
MADAME DE BOUFFLERS _to_ HUME.
(_Translation._)
_Paris, 16th June, 1762._
Jean Jacques Rousseau, citizen of Geneva, and the author of
many works with which you are probably acquainted, has
composed a Treatise on Education, in four volumes, in which he
sets forth many principles contrary to ours, both in politics
and religion. As we do not enjoy here the liberty of the
press, the Parliament, by a decree, just, (if it is, as I
doubt not, conformable to the laws of the kingdom,) but
nevertheless rigorous, has decreed the _prise de corps_; and
it is said that, if he had not taken to flight, he would have
been condemned to death. I can scarcely think they could have
proceeded so far against him as a stranger; but, be that as it
may, it would have been imprudent in him to remain in France
under such circumstances. He has therefore departed, uncertain
what asylum he will choose. I have advised him to go to
England, promising him letters of recommendation to you, and
other friends. I fulfil my promise, and I cannot, in my
opinion, choose for him, in all Europe, a protector more
respectable by his position, and more to be commended for his
humanity. M. Rousseau is known to the greater part of the
people in this country for an eccentric man. This epithet,
according to its true signification, is most justly applied to
him; for he differs, in many respects, in his modes of acting
and thinking, from the men of his day. He has an upright
heart, a noble and disinterested soul. He dreads every
species of dependence, and consequently would have preferred
being in France, gaining his subsistence by copying music, to
receiving benefits even from his best friends, who are anxious
to make up for his misfortunes. This delicacy may appear
excessive, but it is not criminal, and it even augurs elevated
sentiments. He flies from intercourse with the world; he feels
pleasure only in solitude. This partiality for r
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