The first fixed residence of David Hume in Edinburgh appears to have
been in _Riddel’s Land_, Lawnmarket, near the head of the West Bow.
He commenced housekeeping there in 1751, when, according to his own
account, he ‘removed from the country to the town, the true scene for a
man of letters.’ It was while in Riddel’s Land that he published his
_Political Discourses_, and obtained the situation of librarian to the
Faculty of Advocates. In this place also he commenced the writing of
his _History of England_. He dates from Riddel’s Land in January 1753,
but in June we find him removed to _Jack’s Land_,[41] a somewhat airier
situation in the Canongate, where he remained for nine years. Excepting
only the small portion composed in the Lawnmarket mansion, the whole
of the _History of England_ was written in Jack’s Land; a fact which
will probably raise some interest respecting that locality. It is, in
reality, a plain, middle-aged fabric, of no particular appearance, and
without a single circumstance of a curious nature connected with it,
besides the somewhat odd one that the continuator of the _History_,
Smollett, lived, some time after, in his sister’s house precisely
opposite.
[Illustration: Jack’s Land, Canongate.]
Hume removed at Whitsunday 1762 to a house which he purchased in
James’s Court—the eastern portion of the third floor in the west
stair (counting from the level of the court). This was such a step
as a man would take in those days as a consequence of improvement in
his circumstances. The philosopher had lived in James’s Court but a
short time, when he was taken to France as secretary to the embassy.
In his absence, which lasted several years, his house was occupied
by Dr Blair, who here had a son of the Duke of Northumberland as a
pupil. It is interesting to find Hume, some time after, writing to his
friend Dr Ferguson from the midst of the gaieties of Paris: ‘I am
sensible that I am misplaced, and I wish twice or thrice a day for _my
easy-chair and my retreat in James’s Court_.’ Then he adds a beautiful
sentiment: ‘Never think, dear Ferguson, that as long as you are master
of your own fireside and your own time, you can be unhappy, or that
any other circumstance can add to your enjoyment.’[42] In one of his
letters to Blair he speaks minutely of his house: ‘Never put a fire in
the south room with the red paper. It was so warm of itself that all
last winter, which was a very severe one, I lay with a single blanket;
and frequently, upon coming in at midnight starving with cold, have
sat down and read for an hour, as if I had had a stove in the room.’
From 1763 till 1766 he lived in high diplomatic situations at Paris;
and thinking to settle there for life, for the sake of the agreeable
society, gave orders to sell his house in Edinburgh. He informs us,
in a letter to the Countess de Boufflers (_General Correspondence_,
4to, 1820, p. 231), that he was prevented by a singular accident
from carrying his intention into effect. After writing a letter to
Edinburgh for the purpose of disposing of his house, and leaving it
with his Parisian landlord, he set out to pass his Christmas with
the Countess de Boufflers at L’Isle Adam; but being driven back by a
snowstorm, which blocked up the roads, he found on his return that the
letter had not been sent to the post-house. More deliberate thoughts
then determined him to keep up his Edinburgh mansion, thinking that,
if any affairs should call him to his native country, ‘it would be
very inconvenient not to have a house to retire to.’ On his return,
therefore, in 1766, he re-entered into possession of his _flat_ in
James’s Court, but was soon again called from it by an invitation
from Mr Conway to be an under-secretary of state. At length, in 1769,
he returned permanently to his native city, in possession of what he
thought opulence—a thousand a year. We find him immediately writing
from his retreat in James’s Court to his friend Adam Smith, then
commencing his great work _On the Wealth of Nations_ in the quiet of
his mother’s house at Kirkcaldy: ‘I am glad to have come within sight
of you, and to have a view of Kirkcaldy from my windows; but I wish
also to be within speaking-terms of you,’ &c. To another person he
writes: ‘I live still, and must for a twelvemonth, in my old house in
James’s Court, which is very cheerful, and even elegant, but too small
to display my great talent for cookery, the science to which I intend
to addict the remaining years of my life!’
Hume now built a superior house for himself in the New Town, which was
then little beyond its commencement, selecting a site adjoining to St
Andrew Square. The superintendence of this work was an amusement to
him. A story is related in more than one way regarding the manner in
which a denomination was conferred upon the street in which this house
is situated. Perhaps, if it be premised that a corresponding street at
the other angle of St Andrew Square is called _St Andrew Street_—a
natural enough circumstance with reference to the square, whose title
was determined on in the plan—it will appear likely that the choosing
of ‘St David Street’ for that in which Hume’s house stood was not
originally designed as a jest at his expense, though a second thought,
and the whim of his friends, might quickly give it that application.
The story, as told by Mr Burton, is as follows: ‘When the house was
built and inhabited by Hume, but while yet the street of which it was
the commencement had no name, a witty young lady, daughter of Baron
Ord, chalked on the wall the words, ST DAVID STREET. The allusion was
very obvious. Hume’s “lass,” judging that it was not meant in honour or
reverence, ran into the house much excited, to tell her master how he
was made game of. “Never mind, lassie,” he said, “many a better man has
been made a saint of before.”’
That Hume was a native of Edinburgh is well known. One could wish
to know the spot of his birth; but it is not now perhaps possible
to ascertain it. The nearest approach made to the fact is from
intelligence conveyed by a memorandum in his father’s handwriting among
the family papers, where he speaks of ‘my son David, born in the _Tron
Church parish_’—a district comprehending a large square clump of town
between the High Street and Cowgate, east of the site of the church
itself.
One of Hume’s most intimate friends amongst the other sex was Mrs
Cockburn, author of one of the beautiful songs called _The Flowers of
the Forest_. While he was in France in 1764, she writes to him from
_Baird’s Close,[43] Castle-hill_: ‘The cloven foot for which thou
art worshipped I despise; yet I remember _thee_ with affection. I
remember that, in spite of vain philosophy, of dark doubts, of toilsome
learning, God has stamped his image of benignity so strong upon thy
_heart_, that not all the labours of thy head could efface it.’ After
Hume’s return to Edinburgh, he kept up his acquaintance with this
spirited and amiable woman. The late Mr Alexander Young, W.S., had some
reminiscences of parties which he attended when a boy at her house, and
at which the philosopher was present. Hume came in one evening behind
time for her _petit souper_, when, seeing her bustling to get something
for him to eat, he called out: ‘Now, no trouble, if you please, about
quality; for you know I’m only a glutton, not an epicure.’ Mr Young
attended at a dinner where, besides Hume, there were present Lord
Monboddo and some other learned personages. Mrs Cockburn was then
living in the neat first floor of a house at the end of Crighton
Street, with windows looking along the Potterrow. She had a son of
eccentric habits, in middle life, or rather elderly, who came in during
the dinner tipsy, and going into a bedroom, locked himself in, went to
bed, and fell asleep. The company in time made a move for departure,
when it was discovered that their hats, cloaks, and greatcoats were all
locked up in Mr Cockburn’s room. The door was knocked at and shaken,
but no answer. What was to be done? At length Mrs Cockburn had no
alternative from sending out to her neighbours to borrow a supply of
similar integuments, which was soon procured. There was then such fun
in fitting the various _savants_ with suitable substitutes for their
own proper gear! Hume, for instance, with a dreadnought riding-coat;
Monboddo with a shabby old hat, as unlike his own neat chapeau as
possible! In the highest exaltation of spirits did these two men of
genius at length proceed homeward along the Potterrow, Horse Wynd,
Assembly Close, &c., making the old echoes merry with their peals of
laughter at the strange appearance which they respectively made.[44]
I lately inspected Hume’s _cheerful and elegant_ mansion in James’s
Court, and found it divided amongst three or four tenants in humble
life, each possessing little more than a single room. It was amusing
to observe that what had been the dining-room and drawing-room towards
the north were _each_ provided with one of those little side oratories
which have been described elsewhere as peculiar to a period in
Edinburgh house-building, being designed for private devotion. Hume
living in a house with two private chapels!