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 retirement has

made him enemies. The self-love of those who court him is

wounded by his rebuffs; but notwithstanding such apparent

misanthropy, I do not believe you will find any where, a man

more gentle, more humane, more compassionate to the sorrows of

others, and more patient under his own. In short, his virtue

appears so pure, so contented, so equal, that, until now,

those who hated him could find only in their own heart reasons

for suspecting him. As for me, with appearances so much in his

favour, I would rather be deceived than doubt his sincerity.

From the opinion that I have of him, sir, he has been judged

worthy of being known to you; and in procuring him this

honour, I believe I give the most marked proof of my

consideration for him.[107:1]

To this Hume made answer in the postscript of the letter cited above.

"P.S.--So far I had wrote in answer to your ladyship's of the 29th of

May, when I was again honoured with yours of the 14th of June. Good God!

madam, how much I regret my being absent from London on this occasion,

which deprives me of the opportunity of showing in person my regard for

your recommendation, and my esteem, I had almost said veneration, for

the virtue and genius of M. Rousseau. I assure your ladyship there is no

man in Europe of whom I have entertained a higher idea, and whom I would

be prouder to serve; and as I find his reputation very high in England,

I hope every one will endeavour to make him sensible of it by

civilities, and by services, as far as he will accept of them. I revere

his greatness of mind, which makes him fly obligations and dependence;

and I have the vanity to think, that through the course of my life I

have endeavoured to resemble him in those maxims.

"But as I have some connexions with men of rank in London, I shall

instantly write to them, and endeavour to make them sensible of the

honour M. Rousseau has done us in choosing an asylum in England. We are

happy at present in a king who has a taste for literature; and I hope M.

Rousseau will find the advantage of it, and that he will not disdain to

receive benefits from a great monarch, who is sensible of his merit. I

am only afraid that your friend will find his abode in England not so

agreeable as may be wished, if he does not possess the language, which I

am afraid is the case: for I never could observe in his writings any

marks of his acquaintance with the English tongue."[109:1]

From these communications, Hume derived the notion that Rousseau had

immediately proceeded to London. The following paragraph, in a letter

from Elliot, indicates the nature of the inquiries pursued under this

supposition.

DEAR SIR,--As soon as I received your letter, I applied to Mr.

Home, who had also heard from you by the same post, and

desired him to make all possible inquiry after M. Rousseau. If

he be in London we shall certainly find him out; and I need

not assure you, that both on account of his own merit, and

your recommendation, I shall not fail to show him all the

attention in my power. I should doubt, from the known

character of the man, whether he would accept a pension if it

could be procured for him; and should rather apprehend that,

though this government will protect and tolerate the boldness

of his pen, yet it will hardly reward it. Rousseau is not the

only man of genius, the singularity of whose opinions has

intercepted the rewards due to the superiority of his talents.

In the supposition that he had passed over to England, Hume addressed a

letter to Rousseau, as then in London, which was answered by the Chien

de Diogène, as Voltaire called him, from his retreat in Neufchâtel, on

19th February, 1763. He says he has just received the letter, regrets

that he should have made the mistake of trusting himself among his own

countrymen, who have treated him with insult and outrage, instead of

seeking the hospitable shores of Britain. He does something like justice

to the kindness of Lord Marischal, in the midst of his general mordacity

and discontent; and he praises the wide views, the wonderful

impartiality, the genius of Hume, which would raise him so far above the

rest of his kind, did not the goodness of his heart bring him nearer to

their level.[110:1]

The following letter from Madame de Boufflers, written in English, had

been received in the meantime.

MADAME DE BOUFFLERS _to_ HUME.

_July 30._

How difficult it is, sir, for one very far from being

insensible to reputation, to refuse the praises of a man,

whose sincerity and admirable talents render them so valuable.

But in regard to veracity, and perhaps more to my true

interest, I am obliged to acknowledge, I stand a great

distance, for internal or external accomplishments, from the

favourable opinion you have taken of me, whether, in

consulting the noble sentiments which ever inspire you with

sublime ideas, whether in hearkening to some of your

countrymen, disposed to indulgence towards me, by my

well-known inclination for their country.

Perhaps, sir, I confess it with ingenuity, had I been doomed

to be never personally acquainted with you, I should not have

generosity enough to correct your judgment of me. But in this

particular occasion, as in all other, according to my humble

opinion, right and good are closely united. What a shame

indeed for me, and disappointment for you, in place of the

object your imagination has adorned with such shining

qualifications, to find a person to whom Nature has granted

but indifferent ones. A great part of my youth is over. Some

delicacy in features, mildness and decency in countenance, are

the only exterior advantages I can boast of; and as for

interior, common sense, improved a little by early good

reading, are all I possess. My knowledge of the English

language also is confined, as you can easily perceive. I have,

indeed, acquired without assistance that which I know of it;

but if I am entitled to some elegancy, I owe it to the

repeated readings of your admirable works.

After this true picture of myself, in which I have struggled

to exert the noble impartiality and candour which shine in all

your writings, my first care is, sir, to acknowledge the

infinite obligations you have conferred upon me by your kind

letter. I have translated the P. S. to send it to my friend.

The esteem of such a man must be the best balm for his wounded

heart. But I am afraid he will not accept the glorious support

you are so good as to offer him. I fear that the weight of his

calamities has impaired his health, and he cannot sustain the

fatigues of a long journey. In his last letter to me, he

expresses a resolution never to see England upon that account.

Nevertheless, I am informed since, that new persecutions may

possibly determine him to alter his mind. An irregular trial

has deprived him of the natural rights in his own country. The

commonwealth of Berne, from the example of Geneva and France,

has burnt his book, and he has been reduced to leave in a

hurry the asylum that a friend had proffered him there. Such

are the grievous misfortunes of this virtuous and unhappy man.

I pity, I love him, and wish earnestly to sooth the sorrows

under which he labours. Nevertheless, sir, I would fain also

vindicate the honour of my nation in the eyes of so good a

judge as you are. The reflection you cast upon it gives

uneasiness; but mistrusting greatly my capacity, I fear to

betray the cause I would defend by an enterprise so unequal to

my force. I dare only to say, that your happy country has not

attained in a moment the perfect constitution which gives us

admiration. All convenient and well-calculated laws are not

framed at once; and those most exceptionable, while they

stand, deserve obedience and respect.

Is it possible, sir, that this late unhappy event could

deprive of the honour of your presence, a country filled with

your fervent admirers, and where every one will endeavour to

outdo each other in expressing the veneration and regard you

so justly deserve? I hope you will not keep this severe

resolution. If we want a liberty you think an advantage, 'tis

a reason to pity, and not to punish us. Besides, your case and

that of M. Rousseau, though both foreigners in France, are

quite different. Few days before I received your letter, I

heard that it was a friend of mine who has favoured me with

your last performance. I am infinitely obliged to him for this

gracious gift, and to you, sir, for your good intention.

But what strange a creature will you think me, to venture to

point a mistake in a work so perfect? In several parts of the

first volume our countryman Godefroy of Bouillon is named

Godefroy de Boulogne. You have reasons, perhaps, for the

alteration, and I am ready to submit to them. I would only

express my doubts: I hope you will excuse this freedom.

Since I have gone so far, permit me, sir, to ask your opinion

upon the last book of M. Rousseau. I should be very glad to

have my judgment of it confirmed or mended by yours. Nothing

would be wanting to my satisfaction, if in the same letter,

where you could grant me the favour I wish for, I was assured

you had renewed the project to come here, and that you would

speedily execute it. I am, sir, with esteem, gratitude, and,

permit me to add, friendship, your most humble servant.

In answer to this letter, Hume says that he had at first regarded it as

a sort of challenge to answer it in French, but that he had given up the

attempt as an unequal contest with "the sole instance of a foreigner,

not habituated to our tongue, who has, from reading alone, become so

entirely mistress of it." He then gives an account of the letter he had

received from Lord Marischal, and says of Rousseau's refusal of the

kindnesses proferred to him,--"Rousseau, with his usual dignity, refused

all these gratuities, though at the same time he desired my lord to

learn from me, whether it were possible for him to gain from the London

booksellers as much money as would suffice for his maintenance; and this

recompense, being the fruit of his own industry, he would have no

scruple to accept of. I think this instance of conduct a kind of

phenomenon in the republic of letters, and one very honourable for M.

Rousseau. One is only apt to wish that he could practise this virtue

with less hardship and difficulty; though we must also confess, that the

difficulty adds to the lustre of it. I have heard, that the circumstance

which deterred him from coming over to England, as he first intended,

was a harsh reflection, which he threw out on the people in his

'Treatise of Education:' if this was his motive, I am persuaded that he

would find it a vain fear, and that every one would rather have been

anxious to show respect to his merit."[113:1]

He then obeys the mandate to criticise the "Emile."

You deign, madam, to ask my opinion of the new performance of

M. Rousseau. I know that it becomes me better to form my

judgment upon yours; but in compliance with your commands, I

shall not make a secret of my sentiments. All the writings of

that author appear to me admirable, particularly on the head

of eloquence; and if I be not much mistaken, he gives to the

French tongue an energy, which it scarce seems to have reached

in any other hands. But as his enemies have objected, that

with this domineering force of genius there is always

intermingled some degree of extravagance, it is impossible for

his friends altogether to deny the charge; and were it not for

his frequent and earnest protestations to the contrary, one

would be apt to suspect, that he chooses his topics less from

persuasion, than from the pleasure of showing his invention,

and surprising the reader by his paradoxes. The "Treatise of

Education," as it possesses much of the merit, seems also

exposed to the faults of his other performances; and as he

indulges his love of the marvellous even in so serious and

important a subject, he has given a pledge to the public that

he was in earnest in all his other topics. If I dared to

object any thing to M. Rousseau's eloquence, which is the

shining side of his character, I should say, that it was not

wholly free from the defect sometimes found in that of the

Roman orator; and that their great talent for expression was

apt to produce a prolixity in both. This last performance

chiefly is exposed to this objection; and I own, that though

it abounds in noble and shining passages, it gave me rather

less pleasure than his former writings. However, it carries

still the stamp of a great genius; and, what enhances its

beauty, the stamp of a very particular genius. The noble pride

and spleen and indignation of the author bursts out with

freedom in a hundred places, and serves fully to characterize

the lofty spirit of the man.

When I came to peruse that passage of Mons. Rousseau's

Treatise, which has occasioned all the persecution against

him, I was not in the least surprised that it gave offence.

He has not had the precaution to throw any veil over his

sentiments; and as he scorns to dissemble his contempt of

established opinions, he could not wonder that all the zealots

were in arms against him. The liberty of the press is not so

secured in any country, scarce even in this, as not to render

such an open attack of popular prejudices somewhat

dangerous.[115:1]

In 1761, Dr. Blair communicated to Hume the sermon by Dr. Campbell,

which, when subsequently expanded, became the "Dissertation on

Miracles," already referred to.[115:2] On this occasion, Hume wrote in

the following terms to Dr. Blair:--

"DEAR SIR,--I have perused the ingenious performance, which you was so

obliging as to put into my hands, with all the attention possible;

though not perhaps with all the seriousness and gravity which you have

so frequently recommended to me. But the fault lies not in the piece,

which is certainly very acute; but in the subject. I know you will say,

it lies in neither, but in myself alone. If that be so, I am sorry to

say that I believe it is incurable.

"I could wish that your friend had not chosen to appear as a

controversial writer, but had endeavoured to establish his principles in

general, without any reference to a particular book or person; though I

own he does me a great deal of honour, in thinking that any thing I have

wrote deserves his attention. For besides many inconveniences which

attend that kind of writing, I see it is almost impossible to preserve

decency and good manners in it. This author, for instance, says

sometimes obliging things of me, much beyond what I can presume to

deserve, and I thence conclude that in general he did not mean to insult

me; yet I meet with some other passages, more worthy of Warburton and

his followers, than of so ingenious an author.

"But as I am not apt to lose my temper, and would still less incline to

do so with a friend of yours, I shall calmly communicate to you some

remarks on the argument, since you seem to desire it. I shall employ

very few words, since a hint will suffice to a gentleman of this

author's penetration."

This is followed by a particular examination of some parts of Dr.

Campbell's work, which may be perused to most advantage in conjunction

with the Dissertation itself, along with which the letter is generally

printed. He then says,--

"I could wish your friend had not denominated me an infidel writer, on

account of ten or twelve pages, which seem to him to have that tendency,

while I have wrote so many volumes on history, literature, politics,

trade, morals, which, in that particular at least, are entirely

inoffensive. Is a man to be called a drunkard, because he has been seen

fuddled once in his lifetime?"[116:1]

The letter terminates with a recommendation which accounts for the

absence of all observations on religious topics in the correspondence

between Blair and Hume: while it shows that their intercourse had not

always excluded discussions of such a character.

"Having said so much to your friend, who is certainly a very ingenious

man, though a little too zealous for a philosopher, permit me also the

freedom of saying a word to yourself. Whenever I have had the pleasure

to be in your company, if the discourse turned upon any common subject

of literature, or reasoning, I always parted from you both entertained

and instructed. But when the conversation was diverted by you from this

channel towards the subject of your profession; though I doubt not but

your intentions were very friendly towards me, I own I never received

the same satisfaction: I was apt to be tired, and you to be angry. I

would therefore wish, for the future, whenever my good fortune throws me

in your way, that these topics should be forborne between us. I have

long since done with all inquiries on such subjects, and am become

incapable of instruction; though I own no one is more capable of

conveying it than yourself. After having given you the liberty of

communicating to your friend what part of this letter you think proper,

I remain, sir," &c.

Hume afterwards wrote the following letter on the same subject:--

HUME _to_ DR. CAMPBELL.

"_January 7, 1762._

"DEAR SIR,--It has so seldom happened that controversies in philosophy,

much more in theology, have been carried on without producing a personal

quarrel between the parties, that I must regard my present situation as

somewhat extraordinary, who have reason to give you thanks for the civil

and obliging manner in which you have conducted the dispute against me,

on so interesting a subject as that of miracles. Any little symptoms of

vehemence, of which I formerly used the freedom to complain, when you

favoured me with a sight of the manuscript, are either removed or

explained away, or atoned for by civilities, which are far beyond what I

have any title to pretend to. It will be natural for you to imagine,

that I will fall upon some shift to evade the force of your arguments,

and to retain my former opinion in the point controverted between us;

but it is impossible for me not to see the ingenuity of your

performance, and the great learning which you have displayed against me.

"I consider myself as very much honoured in being thought worthy of an

answer by a person of so much merit; and as I find that the public does

you justice with regard to the ingenuity and good composition of your

piece, I hope you will have no reason to repent engaging with an

antagonist, whom, perhaps, in strictness, you might have ventured to

neglect. I own to you, that I never felt so violent an inclination to

defend myself as at present, when I am thus fairly challenged by you,

and I think I could find something specious at least to urge in my

defence; but as I had fixed a resolution, in the beginning of my life,

always to leave the public to judge between my adversaries and me,

without making any reply, I must adhere inviolably to this resolution,

otherwise my silence on any future occasion would be construed an

inability to answer, and would be matter of triumph against me."[119:1]

He then, in the passage already cited,[119:2] describes the occasion on

which the "Theory of Miracles" was suggested to him.

In answer to this, there is a letter by Campbell, in which he endeavours

to rival his opponent in candour, politeness, and gentlemanlike feeling.

The happy courtesy with which he apologizes for the occasionally

irascible tone of his essay, shows that the retired northern divine

possessed in no small degree the qualities that might have adorned a

more showy station.

DR. CAMPBELL _to_ HUME.

_25th June, 1762._

The testimony you are pleased to give in favour of my

performance, is an honour of which I should be entirely

unworthy, were I not sensible of the uncommon generosity you

have shown in giving it. Ever since I was acquainted with your

works, your talents as a writer have, notwithstanding some

differences in abstract principles, extorted from me the

highest veneration. But I could scarce have thought that, in

spite of differences of a more interesting nature, even such

as regard morals and religion, you could ever force me to love

and honour you as a man. Yet no religious prejudices (as you

would probably term them,) can hinder me from doing justice to

that goodness and candour, which appear in every line of your

letter.

It would be in vain to dissemble the pleasure which it gives

me, that I am thought to have acquitted myself tolerably in a

dispute with an author of such acknowledged merit. At the same

time, it gives me real pain, that any symptoms of vehemence

(which are not so easily avoided in disputation as one would

imagine,) should give so generous an adversary the least

ground of complaint. You have (if I remember right, for I have

not the book here,) in the appendix to the third volume of

your "Treatise on Human Nature," apologized for using

sometimes the expressions--'Tis certain, 'Tis evident, and the

like. These, you observe, were in a manner forced from you by

the strong, though transient light in which a particular

object then appeared, and are therefore not to be considered

as at all inconsistent with the general principles of

scepticism which are maintained in the Treatise. My apology is

somewhat similar. There is in all controversy a struggle for

victory, which I may say compels one to take every fair

advantage that either the sentiments or the words of an

antagonist present him with. But the appearances of asperity

or raillery, which one will be thereby necessarily drawn into,

ought not to be constructed as in the least affecting the

habitual good opinion, or even the high esteem, which the

writer may nevertheless entertain of his adversary.

FOOTNOTES:

[74:1] The following contrasted extracts represent some of the

variations above alluded to. The passages on the one side will be found

in the first, and those in the other in the last corrected edition of

the "History of the Stuarts."

_First edition._

_Later editions._

_King James_ inculcated those monarchical tenets with which he was so

much infatuated. P. 54.

Inculcated those monarchical tenets which he had so strongly

imbibed.

_Divine right._ And though these doctrines were perhaps more openly

inculcated and more strenuously insisted on during the reign of the

Stuarts, they were not then invented. P. 120.

And though it is pretended that these doctrines were more

openly inculcated, and more strenuously insisted on, during

the reign of the Stuarts, they were not then invented.

_America._ The seeds of many a noble state have been sown in climates

kept desolate by the wild manners of the ancient inhabitants; and an

asylum secured in that solitary world for liberty and science, if ever

the spreading of unlimited empire, or the inroad of barbarous nations,

should again extinguish them in this turbulent and restless hemisphere.

P. 134.

Expunged.

_Charles I._ However moderate his temper, the natural illusions of

self-love, joined to his education under James, and to the flattery of

courtiers and churchmen, had represented his political tenets as certain

and uncontroverted. P. 148.

However moderate his temper, the natural and unavoidable

prepossessions of self-love, joined to the late uniform

precedents in favour of prerogative, had made him regard his

political tenets as certain and uncontroverted.

Loans were by privy seal required of several: to others the way of

benevolence was proposed; methods supported by precedents, condemned by

positive laws, and always invidious even to times more submissive and

compliant. In the most despotic governments, such expedients would be

regarded as irregular and disorderly. P. 159.

Of some, loans were required: to others, the way of

benevolence was proposed: methods supported by precedent, but

always invidious even in times more submissive and compliant.

In the most absolute governments, such expedients would be

regarded as irregular and unequal.

The new counsels which Charles had mentioned to the parliament, were now

to be tried in order to supply his necessities. Had he possessed any

military force on which he could depend, 'tis likely that he had at once

taken off the mask, and governed without any regard to the ancient laws

and constitution: so high an idea had he imbibed of kingly prerogative,

and so contemptible a notion of the privileges of those popular

assemblies, from which he thought he had met with such ill usage. But

his army was new levied, ill-paid, and worse disciplined; no way

superior to the militia, who were much more numerous, and who were in a

great measure under the influence of the country gentlemen. It behoved

him therefore to proceed cautiously, and to cover his enterprises under

pretext of ancient precedents. P. 158.

The new counsels which Charles had mentioned to the

parliament, were now to be tried, in order to supply his

necessities. Had he possessed any military force on which he

could rely, it is not improbable that he had at once taken off

the mask, and governed without any regard to parliamentary

privileges: so high an idea had he received of kingly

prerogative, and so contemptible a notion of the rights of

those popular assemblies, from which he very naturally thought

he had met with such ill-usage. But his army was new levied,

ill-paid, and worse disciplined; nowise superior to the

militia, who were much more numerous, and who were in a great

measure under the influence of the country gentlemen. It

behoved him therefore to proceed cautiously, and to cover his

enterprises under pretence of ancient precedents, which,

considering the great authority commonly enjoyed by his

predecessors, could not be wanting to himself.

In most national debates, though the reasons may not be equally

balanced, yet are there commonly some plausible topics, which may be

pleaded even in favour of the weaker side; so complicated are all human

affairs, and so uncertain the consequences of every public measure. But

it must be confessed, that in the present case, nothing of weight can be

thrown into the opposite scale. The imposition of ship-money, is

apparently the most avowed and most dangerous invasion of national

privileges, not only which Charles was ever guilty of, but which the

most arbitrary princes in England, since any liberty had been

ascertained to the people, had ever ventured upon. P. 218.

Expunged.

Perhaps the King, who dreaded above all things the House of Commons, and

who never sufficiently respected the constitution, thought, that, in his

present urgent distresses, he might be enabled to levy subsidies, by the

authority of the peers alone. But the employing so long a plea of

necessity, which was evidently false, and ill grounded, rendered it

impossible for him to avail himself of a necessity which was now at last

become real and inevitable. P. 247.

Perhaps the King, who dreaded above all things the House of

Commons, and who expected no supply from them on any

reasonable terms, thought, that in his present distresses, he

might be enabled to levy supplies by the authority of the

peers alone. But the employing so long the plea of a

necessity, which appeared distant and doubtful, rendered it

impossible for him to avail himself of a necessity which was

now at last become real, urgent, and inevitable.

_The attempt to seize the Five Members._

This strange resolution, so incompatible with the majesty of a king, so

improper even for the dignity of any great magistrate, was discovered to

the Countess of Carlisle, sister to Northumberland, a lady of great

spirit, wit, and intrigue. P. 318.

This resolution was discovered to the Countess of Carlisle,

sister to Northumberland, a lady of spirit, wit, and intrigue.

[78:1] In the MSS. R.S.E.

[78:2] See the letter itself in the Clarendon Papers, ii. 201-3.

[79:1] The following are some instances of the alterations made on the

first edition of his History. The collection of these instances has been

facilitated by the use of a copy of the first edition of the Histories

of the Houses of Stuart and Tudor, in the possession of a friend, on

which the alterations embodied in the subsequent editions are written in

red ink.

_In the first edition._

_As altered._

Scotch.

Scottish.

Such was the terror, respectable and rare in a monarch.

So great was the terror, respectable as well as rare, in a

monarch.

May be esteemed a great reflection on his memory.

May be deemed a great reflection on his memory.

Betwixt.

Between.

We come now to relate.

We are now to relate.

Under pretext of a hunting match.

On pretence of a hunting match.

Making account that.

Thinking himself assured that.

Their concurrence became requisite.

Their concurrence became necessary.

Along with.

Together with.

Esteemed impartial.

Deemed impartial.

To a pitch beyond what had ever been known since.

To a height beyond what had been known since.

Entirely requisite for their future safety.

Absolutely necessary for their future safety.

When the exception really occurs, even though it be not precedently

expected.

When the exception really occurs, even though it be not

previously expected.

Any way displeased at the, &c.

Any-wise displeased at the, &c.

Monarchical tenets with which he was so much infatuated.

Monarchical tenets which he had so strongly imbibed.

Graced with ecclesiastical titles.

Endowed with ecclesiastical titles.

Inflicting this sentence.

Pronouncing this sentence.

Confined in the Tower.

Confined to the Tower.

Debarred from such sports.

Debarred such sports.

Raleigh pretended not.

Raleigh did not pretend.

War with the Spaniards.

War against the Spaniards.

As to the circumstance of the narration.

As to the circumstance of the narrative.

Would have had a most just cause.

Would have had a just cause.

Such as together with.

Such as along with.

Interposal in the wars.

Interposition in the wars.

Effectuate a marriage.

Effect a marriage.

He was utterly devoid.

He was utterly destitute.

Headlong in his passions.

Headstrong in his passions.

Obtained at last.

Obtained at length.

A bill declarative.

A bill declaratory.

Forced into a breach.

Constrained to make a breach.

Had sat.

Had sitten.

However little inclined.

How little soever inclined.

Besides being a most atrocious violence.

Besides its being a most atrocious act of violence.

Precedent to Strafford's trial.

Previous to Strafford's trial.

Afraid that.

Afraid lest.

Was ordinarily lodged in.

Was commonly lodged in.

Was the person who introduced.

Was the person that introduced.

During all the time when.

During the time that.

Reduced to shifts.

Reduced to extremities.

The Star Chamber, who were sitting.

The Star Chamber, which was sitting.

A story which, as it marks the genius of parties, may be worth reciting.

A story which, as it discovers the genius of parties, may be

worth relating.

Contempt entertained towards.

Contempt entertained for.

Could such an attempt be interpreted treason.

Could such an attempt be considered as treason.

Lay great weight upon.

Lay great stress upon.

Devoid of temporal sanction.

Destitute of temporal sanction.

Parliament designed to levy war.

Parliament intended to levy war.

It would ascertain the devoted obedience.

It would ensure the devoted obedience.

His dignity was exempted from pride.

His dignity was free from pride.

When the exception really occurs, even though it be not precedently

expected.

When the exception really occurs, even though it be not

previously expected.

To those effects which were operated.

To those effects which were wrought.

[81:1] A tragedy by John Home.

[83:1] The militia of England had, owing to the unpopularity of the

foreign mercenaries in British pay, been strengthened and enlarged. A

proposal was entertained, to extend the system to Scotland: but it was

not executed till many years afterwards. There were several pamphlets on

the subject. Probably the one here referred to is the well known

"History of the Proceedings in the case of Margaret, commonly called

Peg, only lawful Sister of John Bull, Esq.;" attributed to Adam

Ferguson, which will have to be mentioned farther on.

[84:1] Hume seems to have himself commenced a translation of Plutarch.

See above, vol. i. p. 417.

[85:1] Stewart's Life of Robertson.

[87:1] It will be observed, that Hume's strongest argument from internal

criticism is, that the state of society and feeling exhibited in these

poems was that of the middle ages, and involved the spirit of chivalry

peculiar to that period.

[89:1] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 155. The original is in the MSS.

R.S.E. Mr. Mackenzie says, "I could not read this letter without being

confirmed in an observation which I have often ventured to make, on the

uncertainty of the evidence arising from _letters_, when the writers are

dead, and the motives of their correspondence cannot be known."

[90:1] It is not Cowley but Butler who makes this sarcasm.

For Hebrew roots although they're found

To flourish most in barren ground.

[90:2] MS. R.S.E.

[92:1] Private Correspondence of David Hume with several distinguished

persons, between the years 1761 and 1776. London, 1820, 4to.

[93:1] Private Correspondence, p. 269.

[94:1] MS. R.S.E.

[97:1] Depuis long-tems, Monsieur, je suis combattue par des sentimens

contraires. L'admiration que me cause votre sublime ouvrage, et l'estime

qu'il m'inspire pour votre personne, vos talents, et votre vertu, m'ont

fait naître souvent le désir de vous écrire, pour vous exprimer les

sentimens dont je suis profondément pénétrée. D'un autre côté,

considérant que je vous suis inconnue, le peu de prix que doit avoir mon

suffrage, la réserve et l'obscurité même qui convient à mon sexe: j'ai

craint d'être accusée de présomption, et de me faire connoître à mon

désavantage, d'un homme de qui je regarderai toujours la bonne opinion

comme le bien le plus flatteur et le plus précieux. Néanmoins, puisque

les réflexions que j'ai faites à cet égard ne paroissent avoir beaucoup

de force, un penchant irrésistible les rend infructueuses, et je vais

ajouter mon exemple à mille autres, pour justifier la vérité de cette

remarque que j'ai lue dans votre histoire de la Maison de

Stuard,--"Men's views of things are the result of their understanding

alone; their conduct is regulated by their understanding, their temper,

and their passions,"--puisque quand ma raison me dit que je devrais me

tenir dans le silence, l'enthousiasme, où je suis, m'empêche de le

pouvoir garder.

Quoique femme, et dans un âge qui n'est pas encore avancé, et malgré la

dissipation de la vie qu'on tient dans ce pays, ayant toujours aimé la

lecture, il est peu de bons livres, en quelque langue et en quelque

genre que ce soit, que je n'ai lus, ou dans l'original, ou dans les

traductions; et je puis vous assurer, monsieur, avec une sincérité qui

ne doit pas vous être suspecte, que je n'ai trouvé aucun qui réunit à

mon jugement, autant de perfections que le vôtre. Je ne sais point de

termes qui puissent vous rendre ce que j'aprouve en lisant cet ouvrage.

Je me suis attendrie, transportée, et l'émotion qu'il me cause est en

quelque façon pénible par sa continuité. Il élève l'âme, il remplit le

cœur de sentimens d'humanité et bienfaisance. Il éclaire l'esprit, et

en lui montrant la véritable félicité intimement liée à la vertu, il lui

découvre par le même rayon le seul et unique but de tout être

raisonnable. Au milieu des calamités qui environnent de toutes parts le

Roi Charles Premier, l'on voit la paix et la sérénité briller avec éclat

et l'accompagner sur l'échafaud; tandis que le trouble et les remords,

cortége inséparable du crime, suivent les pas de Cromwell et s'asseyent

sur le trône avec lui. Votre livre apprend encore combien l'abus est

voisin des meilleures choses, et les réflexions qu'il fait faire à ce

sujet, doit [doivent] augmenter la vigilance et la défiance de soi-même.

Il anime d'une noble émulation, il inspire l'amour de la liberté, et

instruit en même tems à la soumettre au gouvernement sous lequel on est

obligé de vivre. En un mot c'est un _terra fecunda_ de morale et

d'instructions présentées avec des couleurs si vives qu'on croit les

voir pour la première fois.

La clarté, la majesté, la simplicité touchante de votre style, me ravit.

Les beautés sont si frappantes, que malgré mon ignorance dans la langue

Angloise, elles n'ont pu m'échapper. Vous êtes, Monsieur, un peintre

admirable. Vos tableaux ont une grâce, un naturel, une énergie, qui

surpasse ce que l'imagination même peut attendre.

Mais quelles expressions employerai-je pour vous faire connoitre l'effet

que produit sur moi votre divine impartialité? J'avois besoin en cette

occasion de votre propre éloquence, pour bien rendre ma pensée. En

vérité je crois avoir devant les yeux l'ouvrage de quelque substance

céleste, dégagé des passions, qui pour l'utilité a daigné écrire les

évènemens de ces derniers tems.

Je n'ose ajouter, que dans tout ce qui sort de votre plume vous vous

montrez un philosophe parfait, un homme d'état, un historien plein de

génie, un politique éclairé, un vrai patriote, toutes ces sublimes

qualités sont si fort au dessus des connoissances d'une femme, qu'il me

convient peu d'en parler; et j'ai déjà grand besoin de votre indulgence

pour les fautes que j'ai commises centre la discrétion et la bienséance

par l'excès de ma vénération pour votre mérite. Je vous la demande,

Monsieur, et en même tems le plus profond secret. La démarche que je

fais a quelque chose d'extraordinaire. Je craindrois qu'elle ne

m'attirât le blâme, et je serois fâchée que le sentiment qui me l'a

dictée pût être inconnu. J'ai l'honneur d'être, Monsieur, votre très

humble et très obéissante servante,

HYPPOLYTE DE SAUJON, COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.

On me dit, Monsieur, que vous avez en vue de venir en France, à Paris.

Je souhaite bien vivement que vous exécutiez cette résolution, et

pouvoir contribuer à vous en rendre le séjour agréable.

Ce 15 Mars, 1761. A Paris.[97:A]

[97:A] MS. R.S.E.

[101:1] Private Correspondence, &c. 1-4.

[101:2] MS. R.S.E.

[101:3] Private Correspondence, 5.

[105:1] It will be observed that this is an attempt to spell those

expressions according to the pronunciation.

[107:1]

_A Paris, 16 Juin, 1762._

Jean Jacques Rousseau, citoyen de Genève, et auteur de plusieurs écrits

qui vous sont vraisemblablement connus, vient de composer un Traité sur

l'Education, en quatre volumes, où il expose plusieurs principes

contraires aux nôtres, tant sur la politique, que sur la religion. Comme

nous ne jouissons pas ici de la liberté de la presse, le Parlement par

un arrêt, juste, s'il est comme je n'en doute pas conforme aux lois du

royaume, mais néanmoins rigoureux, l'a décrété de prise de corps, et

l'on prétend que s'il n'avoit pas pris la fuite, il auroit été condamné

à la mort. J'ai de la peine à croire qu'on eût pu aller si loin sur la

qualité d'étranger. Mais quoi qu'il en soit, il eut été imprudent de

lui, de rester en France dans de pareilles circonstances. Il est donc

parti, incertain quel asile il choisiroit. Je lui ai conseillé de se

retirer en Angleterre, lui promettant des lettres de recommendation pour

vous, Monsieur, et pour d'autres personnes de mes amis. Je m'acquitte de

ma promesse, et je ne puis pas à mon avis lui choisir dans tout

l'Europe, un protecteur plus respectable par ses liaisons, et plus

recommendable par son humanité. M. Rousseau passe chez la plupart des

gens en ce pays pour un homme singulier. A prendre cette épithète selon

la vraie signification, elle lui est justement donnée, car il diffère, a

beaucoup d'égards, de la façon d'agir et de penser des hommes du jour.

Il a le cœur droit, l'âme noble et désintéressée. Il craint toute

espèce de dépendance, et par cette raison il a mieux aimé, étant en

France, gagner sa vie en copiant de la musique, que de recevoir les

bienfaits de ses meilleurs amis, qui s'empressoient de réparer sa

mauvaise fortune. Cette délicatesse peut paroître excessive, mais elle

n'a rien de criminelle, et même elle suppose des sentimens élevés. Il

fuit le commerce du monde, il ne se plaît que dans la solitude, ce goût

pour la retraite lui a fait des ennemis. L'amour propre de ceux qui

l'ont recherché s'est trouvé blessé de ses refus. Mais malgré sa

misanthropie apparente, je ne crois pas qu'il y ait nulle part, un homme

plus doux, plus humain, plus compâtissant aux peines des autres, et plus

patient dans les siennes, en un mot, sa vertu paroît si pure, si

contente, si uniforme, que, jusqu'à, présent, ceux qui le haïssent,

n'ont pas trouvé que dans leur propre coeur des raisons pour le

soupçonner. Pour moi, avec des apparences aussi avantageuses, j'aimerois

mieux en être trompé que de me défier de sa sincérité.

D'après l'opinion que j'en ai monsieur, je l'ai jugé digne d'être connu

de vous, et en lui procurant cet honneur, je crois lui donner la preuve

la plus marquée du cas que je fais de lui.[107:A]

[107:A] MS. R.S.E.

[109:1] Private Correspondence, &c. pp. 8, 9.

[110:1] This letter is printed in the Private Correspondence, p. 58.

There are two duplicate originals of it among the MSS. R.S.E.

[113:1] Private Correspondence, &c. p. 54.

[115:1] Private Correspondence, p. 54.

[115:2] Vol. i. p. 283.

[116:1] The following anecdote of Hume, by Lord Charlemont, seems

appropriate to this passage. "He never failed, in the midst of any

controversy, to give its due praise to every thing tolerable that was

either said or written against him. One day that he visited me in

London, he came into my room laughing and apparently well pleased. 'What

has put you into this good humour, Hume?' said I. 'Why man,' replied he,

'I have just now had the best thing said to me I ever heard. I was

complaining in a company where I spent the morning, that I was very ill

treated by the world, and that the censures put upon me were hard and

unreasonable. That I had written many volumes, throughout the whole of

which there were but a few pages that contained any reprehensible

matter, and yet that for those few pages, I was abused and torn to

pieces.' 'You put me in mind,' said an honest fellow in the company,

whose name I did not know, 'of an acquaintance of mine, a notary public,

who having been condemned to be hanged for forgery, lamented the

hardship of his case; that after having written many thousand

inoffensive sheets, he should be hanged for one line.'" _Hardy's Memoirs

of Charlemont_, p. 121.

[119:1] _European Magazine_, 1785, p. 250.

[119:2] Vol. i. p. 57.