Volume 1 — CHAPTER IX.

1752-1755. Æt. 41-44.

Appointment as keeper of the Advocates' Library—His Duties—Commences the History of England—Correspondence with Adam Smith and others on the History—Generosity to Blacklock the Poet—Quarrel with the Faculty of Advocates—Publication of the First Volume of the History—Its reception—Continues the History—Controversial and Polemical attacks—Attempt to subject him, along with Kames, to the Discipline of Ecclesiastical Courts—The Leader of the attack—Home's "Douglas"—The first Edinburgh Review.

"In 1752," says Hume in his "own life," "the Faculty of Advocates chose me their librarian, an office from which I received little or no emolument, but which gave me the command of a large library."[367:1] We have a very glowing account of the contest for this appointment from his own pen in the following letter:

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"Edinburgh, February 4th, 1752.

"Dear Doctor,—I have been ready to burst with vanity and self-conceit this week past; and being obliged from decorum to keep a strict watch over myself, and check all eruptions of that kind, I really begin to find my health impaired by it, and perceive that there is an absolute necessity for breathing a vein, and giving a loose to my inclination. You shall therefore be my physician, "Dum podagricus fit pugil et medicum urget." You must sustain the overflowings of my pride; and I expect, too, that by a little flattery you are to help nature in her discharge, and draw forth a still greater flux of the peccant matter. 'Tis not on my account alone you are to take part in this great event; philosophy, letters, science, virtue, triumph along with me, and have now in this one singular instance, brought over even the people from the side of bigotry and superstition.

"This is a very pompous exordium, you see; but what will you say when I tell you that all this is occasioned by my obtaining a petty office of forty or fifty guineas a-year. Since Caligula of lunatic memory, who triumphed on account of the cockle shells which he gathered on the sea shore, no one has ever erected a trophy for so small an advantage. But judge not by appearances! perhaps you will think, when you know all the circumstances, that this success is both as extraordinary in itself, and as advantageous to me, as any thing which could possibly have happened.

"You have probably heard that my friends in Glasgow, contrary to my opinion and advice, undertook to get me elected into that college; and they had succeeded, in spite of the violent and solemn remonstrances of the clergy, if the Duke of Argyle had had courage to give me the least countenance. Immediately upon the back of this failure, which should have blasted for some time all my pretensions, the office of library keeper to the Faculty of Advocates fell vacant, a genteel office, though of small revenue; and as this happened suddenly, my name was immediately set up by my friends without my knowledge. The President, and the Dean of Faculty his son, who used to rule absolutely in this body of advocates, formed an aversion to the project, because it had not come from them; and they secretly engaged the whole party called squadroney against me. The bigots joined them, and both together set up a gentleman of character, and an advocate, and who had great favour on both these accounts. The violent cry of deism, atheism, and scepticism, was raised against me; and 'twas represented that my election would be giving the sanction of the greatest and most learned body of men in this country to my profane and irreligious principles. But what was more dangerous, my opponents entered into a regular concert and cabal against me; while my friends were contented to speak well of their project in general, without having once formed a regular list of the electors, or considered of the proper methods of engaging them. Things went on in this negligent manner till within six days of the election, when they met together and found themselves in some danger of being outnumbered; immediately upon which they raised the cry of indignation against the opposite party; and the public joined them so heartily, that our antagonists durst show their heads in no companies nor assemblies: expresses were despatched to the country, assistance flocked to us from all quarters, and I carried the election by a considerable majority, to the great joy of all bystanders. When faction and party enter into a cause, the smallest trifle becomes important. Nothing since the rebellion has ever so much engaged the attention of this town, except Provost Stewart's trial; and there scarce is a man whose friendship or acquaintance I would desire, who has not given me undoubted proofs of his concern and regard.

"What is more extraordinary, the cry of religion could not hinder the ladies from being violently my partisans, and I owe my success in a great measure to their solicitations. One has broke off all commerce with her lover, because he voted against me! and W. Lockhart, in a speech to the Faculty, said that there was no walking the streets, nor even enjoying one's own fireside, on account of their importunate zeal. The town says, that even his bed was not safe for him, though his wife was cousin-german to my antagonist.

"'Twas vulgarly given out, that the contest was betwixt Deists and Christians; and when the news of my success came to the Play-house, the whisper ran that the Christians were defeated. Are you not surprised that we could keep our popularity, notwithstanding this imputation, which my friends could not deny to be well founded?

"The whole body of cadies bought flambeux, and made illuminations to mark their pleasure at my success; and next morning I had the drums and town music at my door, to express their joy, as they said, of my being made a great man. They could not imagine, that so great a fray could be raised about so mere a trifle.

"About a fortnight before, I had published a Discourse of the Protestant Succession, wherein I had very liberally abused both Whigs and Tories; yet I enjoyed the favour of both parties.

"Such, dear Doctor, is the triumph of your friend; yet, amidst all this greatness and glory, even though master of 30,000 volumes, and possessing the smiles of a hundred fair ones, in this very pinnacle of human grandeur and felicity, I cast a favourable regard on you, and earnestly desire your friendship and good-will: a little flattery too, from so eminent a hand, would be very acceptable to me. You know you are somewhat in my debt, in that particular. The present I made you of my Inquiry, was calculated both as a mark of my regard, and as a snare to catch a little incense from you. Why do you put me to the necessity of giving it to myself?

"Please tell General St. Clair, that W. St. Clair, the Advocate, voted for me on his account; but his nephew, Sir David, was so excessively holy, that nothing could bring him over from the opposite party, for which he is looked down upon a little by the fashionable company in town. But he is a very pretty fellow, and will soon regain the little ground he has lost.

"I am, dear Doctor, yours sincerely."

This letter is evidently but half serious. That there was a good deal of contest and caballing is pretty clear; and it is equally clear that Hume took a deep interest in the result: but he appears to have been inclined to laugh a little at his own fervour, and to hide the full extent of his feelings under a cloud of playful exaggeration.

The Advocates' Library, which is now probably next in extent in Britain after the Bodleian, cannot then have borne any great proportion to its present size. It had, however, existed for upwards of seventy years, and was undoubtedly the largest collection of books in Scotland. It was rich, perhaps unrivalled, in the works of the civilians and canonists, and possessed, what was more valuable to Hume, a considerable body of British historical literature, printed and MS.[373:1] Hume's duties must have involved some attention, not only to the classification and custody of the books, but to the arrangements for making them accessible to the members of the Faculty, as numerous entries in his hand are to be found in the receipt book for borrowed books.[373:2]

Hume informs us, that the stores thus put at his command enabled him to put his historical designs in practice, by commencing the "History of England." We shall now find a great part of his correspondence devoted to the "History of the House of Stuart," which appears to have been commenced early in 1752. The following is the earliest extant letter to Smith:

Hume to Adam Smith.

"24th Sept. 1752.

"Dear Sir,—I confess I was once of the same opinion with you, and thought that the best period to begin an English history was about Henry the Seventh. But you will please to observe, that the change which then happened in public affairs, was very insensible, and did not display its influence till many years afterwards. 'Twas under James that the House of Commons began first to raise their head, and then the quarrel betwixt privilege and prerogative commenced. The government, no longer oppressed by the enormous authority of the crown, displayed its genius; and the factions which then arose, having an influence on our present affairs, form the most curious, interesting, and instructive part of our history. The preceding events, or causes, may easily be shown, in a reflection or review, which may be artfully inserted in the body of the work; and the whole, by that means, be rendered more compact and uniform. I confess, that the subject appears to me very fine; and I enter upon it with great ardour and pleasure. You need not doubt of my perseverance.

"I am just now diverted for a moment, by correcting my 'Essays Moral and Political,' for a new edition. If any thing occur to you to be inserted or retrenched, I shall be obliged to you for the hint. In case you should not have the last edition by you, I shall send you a copy of it. In that edition I was engaged to act contrary to my judgment, in retaining the sixth and seventh Essays,[375:1] which I had resolved to throw out, as too frivolous for the rest, and not very agreeable neither, even in that trifling manner: but Millar, my bookseller, made such protestations against it, and told me how much he had heard them praised by the best judges, that the bowels of a parent melted, and I preserved them alive.

"All the rest of Bolingbroke's works went to the press last week, as Millar informs me. I confess my curiosity is not much raised.

"I had almost lost your letter by its being wrong directed. I received it late, which was the reason why you got not sooner a copy of Joannes Magnus. Direct to me in Riddal's Land, Lawnmarket. I am, dear Sir, yours sincerely."[376:1]

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

1753.

"Dear Doctor,—I need not inform you, that in certain polite countries, a custom prevails, of writing lettres de la nouvelle année, and that many advantages result from this practice, which may seem merely ceremonious and formal. Acquaintance is thereby kept up, friendship revived, quarrels extinguished, negligence atoned for, and correspondences renewed. A man who has been so long conscious of his sins, that he knows not how to return into the way of salvation, taking advantage of this great jubilee, wipes off all past offences, and obtains plenary indulgence; instances are not wanting of such reclaimed sinners, who have afterwards proved the greatest saints, and have even heaped up many works of supererogation. Will you allow me, therefore, dear Doctor, in consideration of my present penitence, and hopes of my future amendment, to address myself to you, and to wish you many and happy new years, multos et felices. May pleasures spiritual (spirituels) multiply upon you without a decay of the carnal. May riches increase without an augmentation of desires. May your chariot still roll along without a failure of your limbs. May your tongue in due time acquire the social sweet garrulity of age, without your teeth losing the sharpness and keenness of youth. May —— but you yourself will best supply the last prayer, whether it should be for the recovery or continuance of the blessing which I hint at. In either case, may your prayer be granted, even though it should extend to the resurrection of the dead.

"I must now set you an example, and speak of myself. By this I mean that you are to speak to me of yourself. I shall exult and triumph to you a little, that I have now at last—being turned of forty, to my own honour, to that of learning, and to that of the present age—arrived at the dignity of being a householder. About seven months ago, I got a house of my own, and completed a regular family; consisting of a head, viz. myself, and two inferior members, a maid and a cat. My sister has since joined me, and keeps me company. With frugality I can reach, I find, cleanliness, warmth, light, plenty, and contentment. What would you have more? Independence? I have it in a supreme degree. Honour? that is not altogether wanting. Grace? that will come in time. A wife? that is none of the indispensable requisites of life. Books? that is one of them; and I have more than I can use. In short, I cannot find any blessing of consequence which I am not possessed of, in a greater or less degree; and without any great effort of philosophy, I may be easy and satisfied.

"As there is no happiness without occupation, I have begun a work which will employ me several years, and which yields me much satisfaction. 'Tis a History of Britain, from the Union of the Crowns to the present time. I have already finished the reign of King James. My friends flatter me (by this I mean that they don't flatter me) that I have succeeded. You know that there is no post of honour in the English Parnassus more vacant than that of history. Style, judgment, impartiality, care—every thing is wanting to our historians; and even Rapin, during this latter period, is extremely deficient. I make my work very concise, after the manner of the ancients. It divides into three very moderate volumes: one to end with the death of Charles the First; the second at the Revolution; the third at the Accession,[378:1] for I dare come no nearer the present times. The work will neither please the Duke of Bedford nor James Fraser; but I hope it will please you and posterity. Κτῆμα εις ἀεὶ.

"So, dear Doctor, after having mended my pen, and bit my nails, I return to the narration of parliamentary factions, or court intrigues, or civil wars, and bid you heartily adieu.

"Edinburgh, Riddal's Land, 5th January, 1753.

"P.S.—When I say that I dare come no nearer the present time than the Accession, you are not to imagine that I am afraid either of danger or offence; I hope, in many instances, that I have shown myself to be above all laws of prudence and discretion. I only mean, that I should be afraid of committing mistakes, in writing of so recent a period, by reason of the want of materials."[379:1]

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"Edinburgh, 6th March, 1753.

"Dear Doctor,—This is delivered to you by my friend Mr. Wedderburn,[379:2] who makes a jaunt to London, partly with a view to study, partly to entertainment. I thought I could not do him a better office, nor more suitable to both these purposes, than to recommend him to the friendship and acquaintance of a man of learning and conversation. He is young:

It will be a great obligation, both to him and me, if you give him encouragement to see you frequently; and, after that, I doubt not you will think that you owe me an obligation—

"But I will say no more of him, lest my letter fall into the same fault which may be remarked in his behaviour and conduct in life; the only fault which has been remarked in them, that of promising so much that it will be difficult for him to support it. You will allow that he must have been guilty of some error of this kind, when I tell you that the man, with whose friendship and company I have thought myself very much favoured, and whom I recommend to you as a friend and companion, is just twenty. I am, dear Doctor, your affectionate friend and servant."[379:3]

Hume to James Oswald.

"Jack's Land, 28th June, 1753.

"Dear Sir,—I am to give you great and very hearty thanks for your care in providing for my cousin, at my desire. The quickness in doing it, and the many obliging circumstances attending that good office, I shall not readily forget. What is usual, they say, makes little impression; but that this rule admits of exceptions, I feel upon every instance of your friendship.

"Mr. Mure told me that you had undertaken to get satisfaction with regard to the old English subsidies. I cannot satisfy myself on that head; but I find that all historians and antiquarians are as much at a loss. The nobility, I observe, paid according to their rank and quality, not their estates. The counties were subjected to no valuation; but it was in the power of the commissioners to sink the sums demanded upon every individual, without raising it upon others; and they practised this art when discontented with the court, as Charles complains of with regard to the subsidies voted by his third parliament: yet it seems certain that there must have been some rule of estimation. What was it? Why was it so variable? Lord Strafford raised an Irish subsidy from £12,000 to £40,000, by changing the rule of valuation; but the Irish Parliament, after his impeachment, brought it down again: if Mr. Harding undertakes the solution of this matter, it will be requisite to have these difficulties in his eye. I am glad to hear that we are to have your company here this summer, and that I shall have an opportunity of talking over this, and many other subjects, where I want your advice and opinion. The more I advance in my work, the more I am convinced that the history of England has never yet been written; not only for style, which is notorious to all the world, but also for matter; such is the ignorance and partiality of all our historians. Rapin, whom I had an esteem for, is totally despicable. I may be liable to the reproach of ignorance, but I am certain of escaping that of partiality: the truth is, there is so much reason to blame, and praise, alternately, king and parliament, that I am afraid the mixture of both, in my composition, being so equal, may pass sometimes for an affectation, and not the result of judgment and evidence. Of this you shall be judge; for I am resolved to encroach on your leisure and patience;

Let me hear of you as you pass through the town, that we may concert measures for my catching you idle, and without company, at Kirkcaldy. I am," &c.[381:1]

The rapidity with which the first volume of the "History of England" was composed and printed, has been the object both of surprise and censure. Hume's labours at this time must have been intense; and during the whole of the period in which he was engaged in the different departments of this great work—from 1752 to 1763—his correspondence is more scanty than at other periods of his history. Four months elapse between the letter last printed, and the next in order which has been preserved; and in the latter, we find him very wittily alluding to those great labours which he finds absorbing the petty duties of social intercourse.

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"28th October, 1753.

"Dear Doctor,—I know not if you remember the giant in Rabelais, who swallowed every morning a windmill to breakfast, and at last was choked upon a pound of melted butter, hot from an oven. I am going to compare myself to that giant. I think nothing of despatching a quarto in fifteen or eighteen months, but am not able to compose a letter once in two years; and am very industrious to keep up a correspondence with posterity, whom I know nothing about, and who, probably, will concern themselves very little about me, while I allow myself to be forgot by my friends, whom I value and regard. However, it is some satisfaction that I can give you an account of my silence, with which I own I reproach myself. I have now brought down my History to the death of Charles the First: and here I intend to pause for some time; to read, and think, and correct; to look forward and backward; and to adopt the most moderate and most reasonable sentiments on all subjects. I am sensible that the history of the two first Stuarts will be most agreeable to the Tories; that of the two last to the Whigs; but we must endeavour to be above any regard either to Whigs or Tories.

"Having thus satisfied your curiosity—for I will take it for granted that your curiosity extends towards me—I must now gratify my own. I was very anxious to hear that you had been molested with some disorders this summer. I was told that you expected they would settle into a fit of the gout. It is lucky where that distemper overtakes a man in his chariot: we foot-walkers make but an awkward figure with it. I hope nobody has the impertinence to say to you, Physician, cure thyself. All the world allows that privilege to the gout, that it is not to be cured: it is itself a physician; and, of course, sometimes cures and sometimes kills. I fancy one fit of the gout would much increase your stock of interjections, and render that part of speech, which in common grammars is usually the most barren, with you more copious than either nouns or verbs.

"I must tell you good news of our friend Sir Harry. I am informed that his talent for eloquence will not rust for want of employment: he bids fair for another seat of the house; and what is the charming part of the story, it is General Anstruther's seat which he is to obtain. He has made an attack on the General's boroughs, and, by the assistance of his uncle's interest and purse, is likely to prevail. Is not this delicious revenge? It brings to my mind the story of the Italian, who reading that passage of Scripture, 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord,' burst forth, 'Ay, to be sure; it is too sweet for any mortal.' I own I envy Sir Harry: I never can hope to hate any body so perfectly as he does that renowned commander; and no victory, triumph, vengeance, success, can be more complete. Are not you pleased too? Pray, anatomize your own mind, and tell me how many grains of your satisfaction is owing to malice, and how many ounces to friendship. I leave the rest of this paper to be filled up by Edmonstone. I am, &c.

"P.S.—After keeping this by me eight days, I have never been able to meet with Edmonstone. I must, therefore, send off my own part of a letter which we projected in common. I shall only tell you, that I have since seen Mr. Oswald, who assures me that Anstruther's defeat is infallible."[383:1]

The following letter to the same friend is a curious instance of Hume's diligent efforts to attain a correct English style:—

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"Edinburgh, 8th Dec. 1753.

"Dear Doctor,—I am at present reduced to the utmost straits and difficulties. I know people are commonly ashamed to own such distresses. But to whom can one have recourse in his misfortunes, but to his friends? and who can I account my friend, if not Dr. Clephane? not a friend only in the sunshine of fortune, but also in the shade of adversity: not a security only in a calm; but in a storm a sheet-anchor. But, to cut short all prefaces,—though, commonly, beggars and authors abound with them, and I unite both these qualities,—the occasion of my distress is as follows:

"You know that the word enough, or enuff, as it is pronounced by the English, we commonly, in Scotland, when it is applied to number, pronounce enow. Thus we would say: such a one has books enow for study, but not leisure enuff. Now I want to know, whether the English make the same distinction. I observed the distinction already in Lord Shaftesbury; 'Though there be doors enow,' says he, 'to get out of life;' and thinking that this distinction of spelling words, that had both different letters, and different pronunciation, was an improvement, I followed it in my learned productions, though I knew it was not usual. But there has lately arisen in me a doubt, that this is a mere Scotticism; and that the English always pronounce the word, as if it were wrote enuff, whether it be applied to numbers or to quantity. To you, therefore, I apply in this doubt and perplexity. Though I make no question that your ear is well purged from all native impurities, yet trust not entirely to it, but ask any of your English friends, that frequent good company, and let me know their opinion.

"It is a rule of Vaugelas always to consult the ladies, rather than men, in all doubts of language; and he asserts, that they have a more delicate sense of the propriety of expressions. The same author advises us, if we desire any one's opinion in any grammatical difficulty, not to ask him directly; for that confounds his memory, and makes him forget the use, which is the true standard of language. The best way, says he, is to engage him as it were by accident, to employ the expression about which we are in doubt. Now, if you are provided of any expedient, for making the ladies pronounce the word enough, applied both to quantity and number, I beg you to employ it, and to observe carefully and attentively, whether they make any difference in the pronunciation. I am, &c.

"P.S.—I am quite in earnest in desiring a solution of my grammatical doubt."[385:1]

The gentle sensitive character, and hard fate of poor blind Thomas Blacklock, the poet, operated strongly on Hume's kindly feelings. He busied himself with many schemes for enabling his unfortunate friend to gain a subsistence which might make him enjoy "the glorious privilege of being independent:" but with small success. This appears to be the only pursuit which he permitted to divert his attention, at this time, from his great work. We find him writing the following letter to a person whose position in society might enable him to do some substantial service to Blacklock.

Hume to Matthew Sharp of Hoddam.

"Edinburgh, 25th February, 1754.

"Dear Sir,—I have enclosed this letter under one to my friend Mr. Blacklock, who has retired to Dumfries, and proposes to reside there for some time. His character and situation are no doubt known to you, and challenge the greatest regard from every one who has either good taste or sentiments of humanity. He has printed a collection of poems, which his friends are endeavouring to turn to the best account for him. Had he published them in the common way, their merit would have recommended them sufficiently to common sale; but, in that case, the greatest part of the profit, it is well known, would have redounded to the booksellers. His friends, therefore, take copies from him, and distribute them among their acquaintances. The poems, if I have the smallest judgment, are, many of them, extremely beautiful, and all of them remarkable for correctness and propriety. Every man of taste, from the merit of the performance, would be inclined to purchase them: every benevolent man, from the situation of the author, would wish to encourage him; and, as for those who have neither taste nor benevolence, they should be forced, by importunity, to do good against their will. I must, therefore, recommend it to you to send for a cargo of these poems, which the author's great modesty will prevent him from offering to you, and to engage your acquaintance to purchase them. But, dear sir, I would fain go farther: I would fain presume upon our friendship, (which now begins to be ancient between us,) and recommend to your civilities a man who does honour to his country by his talents, and disgraces it by the little encouragement he has hitherto met with. He is a man of very extensive knowledge and of singular good dispositions; and his poetical, though very much to be admired, is the least part of his merit. He is very well qualified to instruct youth, by his acquaintance both with the languages and sciences; and possesses so many arts of supplying the want of sight, that that imperfection would be no hinderance. Perhaps he may entertain some such project in Dumfries; and be assured you could not do your friends a more real service than by recommending them to him. Whatever scheme he may choose to embrace, I was desirous you should be prepossessed in his favour, and be willing to lend him your countenance and protection, which I am sensible would be of great advantage to him.

"Since I saw you, I have not been idle. I have endeavoured to make some use of the library which was intrusted to me, and have employed myself in a composition of British History, beginning with the union of the two crowns. I have finished the reigns of James and Charles, and will soon send them to the press. I have the impudence to pretend that I am of no party, and have no bias. Lord Elibank says, that I am a moderate Whig, and Mr. Wallace that I am a candid Tory. I was extremely sorry that I could not recommend your friend to Director Hume,[387:1] as Mr. Cummin desired me. I have never exchanged a word with that gentleman since I carried Jemmy Kirkpatrick to him; and our acquaintance has entirely dropt. I am," &c.[387:2]

Another letter by Hume, longer and fuller of detail, though it has already appeared in a work well known and much read,[387:3] seems to demand insertion here. It is addressed to the author of Polymetis and friend of Pope.

Hume to Joseph Spence.

Edinburgh, Oct. 15, 1754.

Sir,—The agreeable productions, with which you have entertained the public, have long given me a desire of being known to you: but this desire has been much increased by my finding you engage so warmly in protecting a man of merit, so helpless as Mr. Blacklock. I hope you will indulge me in the liberty I have taken of writing to you. I shall very willingly communicate all the particulars I know of him; though others, by their longer acquaintance with him, are better qualified for this undertaking.

The first time I had ever seen or heard of Mr. Blacklock was about twelve years ago, when I met him in a visit to two young ladies. They informed me of his case, as far as they could in a conversation carried on in his presence. I soon found him to possess a very delicate taste, along with a passionate love of learning. Dr. Stevenson had, at that time, taken him under his protection; and he was perfecting himself in the Latin tongue. I repeated to him Mr. Pope's elegy to the memory of an unfortunate lady, which I happened to have by heart: and though I be a very bad reciter, I saw it affected him extremely. His eyes, indeed, the great index of the mind, could express no passion: but his whole body was thrown into agitation. That poem was equally qualified to touch the delicacy of his taste, and the tenderness of his feelings. I left the town a few days after; and being long absent from Scotland, I neither saw nor heard of him for several years. At last an acquaintance of mine told me of him, and said that he would have waited on me, if his excessive modesty had not prevented him. He soon appeared what I have ever since found him, a very elegant genius, of a most affectionate grateful disposition, a modest backward temper, accompanied with that delicate pride, which so naturally attends virtue in distress. His great moderation and frugality, along with the generosity of a few persons, particularly Dr. Stevenson and Provost Alexander, had hitherto enabled him to subsist. All his good qualities are diminished, or rather perhaps embellished, by a great want of knowledge of the world. Men of very benevolent or very malignant dispositions are apt to fall into this error; because they think all mankind like themselves: but I am sorry to say that the former are apt to be most egregiously mistaken.

I have asked him whether he retained any idea of light or colours. He assured me that there remained not the least traces of them. I found, however, that all the poets, even the most descriptive ones, such as Milton and Thomson, were read by him with pleasure. Thomson is one of his favourites. I remembered a story in Locke of a blind man, who said that he knew very well what scarlet was: it was like the sound of a trumpet. I therefore asked him, whether he had not formed associations of that kind, and whether he did not connect colour and sound together. He answered, that as he met so often, both in books and conversation, with the terms expressing colours, he had formed some false associations, which supported him when he read, wrote, or talked of colours: but that the associations were of the intellectual kind. The illumination of the sun, for instance, he supposed to resemble the presence of a friend; the cheerful colour of green, to be like an amiable sympathy, &c. It was not altogether easy for me to understand him: though I believe, in much of our own thinking, there will be found some species of association. 'Tis certain we always think in some language, viz. in that which is most familiar to us; and 'tis but too frequent to substitute words instead of ideas.

If you was acquainted with any mystic, I fancy you would think Mr. Blacklock's case less paradoxical. The mystics certainly have associations by which their discourse, which seems jargon to us, becomes intelligible to themselves. I believe they commonly substitute the feelings of a common amour, in the place of their heavenly sympathies: and if they be not belied, the type is very apt to engross their hearts, and exclude the thing typified.

Apropos to this passion, I once said to my friend, Mr. Blacklock, that I was sure he did not treat love as he did colours; he did not speak of it without feeling it. There appeared too much reality in all his expressions to allow that to be suspected. "Alas!" said he, with a sigh, "I could never bring my heart to a proper tranquillity on that head." Your passion, replied I, will always be better founded than ours, who have sight: we are so foolish as to allow ourselves to be captivated by exterior beauty: nothing but the beauty of the mind can affect you. "Not altogether neither," said he: "the sweetness of the voice has a mighty effect upon me: the symptoms of youth too, which the touch discovers, have great influence. And though such familiar approaches would be ill-bred in others, the girls of my acquaintance indulge me, on account of my blindness, with the liberty of running over them with my hand. And I can by that means judge entirely of their shape. However, no doubt, humour, and temper, and sense, and other beauties of the mind, have an influence upon me as upon others."

You may see from this conversation how difficult it is even for a blind man to be a perfect Platonic. But though Mr. Blacklock never wants his Evanthe, who is the real object of his poetical addresses, I am well assured that all his passions have been perfectly consistent with the purest virtue and innocence. His life indeed has been in all respects perfectly irreproachable.

He had got some rudiments of Latin in his youth, but could not easily read a Latin author till he was near twenty, when Dr. Stevenson put him to a grammar school in Edinburgh. He got a boy to lead him, whom he found very docible; and he taught him Latin. This boy accompanied him to the Greek class in the College, and they both learned Greek. Mr. Blacklock understands that language perfectly, and has read with a very lively pleasure all the Greek authors of taste. Mr. William Alexander, second son to our late provost, and present member, was so good as to teach him French; and he is quite master of that language. He has a very tenacious memory and a quick apprehension. The young students of the College were very desirous of his company, and he reaped the advantage of their eyes, and they of his instructions. He is a very good philosopher, and in general possesses all branches of erudition, except the mathematical. The lad who first attended him having left him, he has got another boy, whom he is beginning to instruct; and he writes me that he is extremely pleased with his docility. The boy's parents, who are people of substance, have put him into Mr. Blacklock's service, chiefly on account of the virtuous and learned education which they know he gives his pupils.

As you are so generous to interest yourself in this poor man's case, who is so much an object both of admiration and compassion, I must inform you entirely of his situation. He has gained about one hundred guineas by this last edition of his poems, and this is the whole stock he has in the world. He has also a bursary, about six pounds a-year. I begun a subscription for supporting him during five years; and I made out twelve guineas a-year among my acquaintance. That is a most terrible undertaking; and some unexpected refusals I met with, damped me, though they have not quite discouraged me from proceeding. We have the prospect of another bursary of ten pounds a-year in the gift of the exchequer; but to the shame of human nature, we met with difficulties. Noblemen interpose with their valet-de-chambres or nurses' sons, who they think would be burdens on themselves. Could we ensure but thirty pounds a-year to this fine genius and man of virtue, he would be easy and happy: for his wants are none but those which Nature has given him, though she has unhappily loaded him with more than other men.

His want of knowledge of the world, and the great delicacy of his temper, render him unfit for managing boys or teaching a school: he would retain no authority. Had it not been for this defect, he could have been made professor of Greek in the University of Aberdeen.

Your scheme of publishing his poems by subscription, I hope will turn to account. I think it impossible he could want, were his case more generally known. I hope it will be so by your means. Sir George Lyttleton, who has so fine a taste, and so much benevolence of temper, would certainly, were the case laid before him in a just light, lend his assistance, or rather indeed quite overcome all difficulties. I know not, whether you have the happiness of that gentleman's acquaintance.

As you are a lover of letters, I shall inform you of a piece of news, which will be agreeable to you: we may hope to see good tragedies in the English language. A young man called Hume, a clergyman of this country, discovers a very fine genius for that species of composition. Some years ago, he wrote a tragedy called Agis, which some of the best judges, such as the Duke of Argyle, Sir George Lyttleton, Mr. Pitt, very much approved of. I own, though I could perceive fine strokes in that tragedy, I never could in general bring myself to like it: the author, I thought, had corrupted his taste by the imitation of Shakspere, whom he ought only to have admired. But the same author has composed a new tragedy on a subject of invention; and here he appears a true disciple of Sophocles and Racine. I hope in time he will vindicate the English stage from the reproach of barbarism.

I shall be very glad if the employing my name in your account of Mr. Blacklock can be of any service. I am, Sir, with great regard, &c.

P.S.—Mr. Blacklock is very docible, and glad to receive corrections. I am only afraid he is too apt to have a deference for other people's judgment. I did not see the last edition till it was printed; but I have sent him some objections to passages, for which he was very thankful. I also desired him to retrench some poems entirely; such as the Ode on Fortitude, and some others, which seemed to me inferior to the rest of the collection. You will very much oblige him, if you use the same freedom. I remarked to him some Scotticisms; but you are better qualified for doing him that service. I have not seen any of his essays; and am afraid his prose is inferior to his poetry. He will soon be in town, when I shall be enabled to write you further particulars.

In 1756, Spence published his edition of Blacklock's poems, with a long introduction, in which all allusion to Hume's letter, and his services to Blacklock, is carefully avoided. Blacklock was subsequently alienated from Hume, and was accused by some of ingratitude; while others threw the odium of the dispute on Hume, who, they said, was mortified because Spence's edition of Blacklock's Poems was not dedicated to him. Whoever may have been in the wrong, the latter supposition is erroneous, as we shall find Hume at a much later period conferring services on Blacklock, who in his turn gratefully acknowledges them. The zeal of Spence to blot from the work any mark that might connect it with the name of Hume, is alluded to with good-natured sarcasm, in a letter to Dr. Clephane, farther on.

The following letter, connected with another curious circumstance, describes an incident in Hume's conduct to Blacklock.

Hume to Adam Smith.

"Edinburgh, 17th December, 1754.

"Dear Sir,—I told you that I intended to apply to the Faculty for redress; and, if refused, to throw up the library. I was assured that two of the curators intended before the Faculty to declare their willingness to redress me, after which there could be no difficulty to gain a victory over the other two. But before the day came, the Dean prevailed on them to change their resolution, and joined them himself with all his interest. I saw it then impossible to succeed, and accordingly retracted my application. But being equally unwilling to lose the use of the books, and to bear an indignity, I retain the office, but have given Blacklock, our blind poet, a bond of annuity for the salary. I have now put it out of these malicious fellows' power to offer me any indignity, while my motive for remaining in this office is so apparent. I should be glad that you approve of my conduct. I own I am satisfied with myself."[394:1]

The following minute or memorandum, in Hume's handwriting,[394:2] explains the ground of his disgust. One of the "malicious fellows" appears to have been Lord Monboddo; another, Sir David Dalrymple, afterwards Lord Hailes, with whom he never was on very cordial terms.

"Edinburgh, 27th June, 1754.

"This day Mr. James Burnet, [Mr. Thomas Millar,] and Sir David Dalrymple, curators of the library, (then follow some arrangement as to meetings,) having gone through some accounts of books, lately bought for the library, and finding therein the three following French books, Les Contes de La Fontaine, L'Histoire Amoureuse des Gaules, and L'Écumoire, they ordain that the said books be struck out of the catalogue of the library, and removed from the shelves as indecent books, and unworthy of a place in a learned library.

"And to prevent the like abuses in time to come, they appoint that after this no books shall be bought for the library, without the authority of a meeting of the curators in time of session, and of two of them in time of vacation."

It involves no approval of the licentious features of French literature, to pronounce this resolution of the curators pre-eminently absurd. A public library, purged of every book of which any portion might offend the taste of a well-regulated mind of the present day, would unfortunately be very barren in the most brilliant departments of the literature of other days and other languages. It would be wrong in the guardians of a public library to advance to the dignity of its shelves, those loathsome books written for the promotion of vice, of which, though they be published by no eminent bookseller, exhibited on no respectable counter, advertised in no newspaper, too many have found their way, by secret avenues, into the heart of society, where they corrupt its life-blood. But if Greece, Rome, and France,—if our own ancestors, had a freer tone in their imaginative literature than we have, we must yet admit their works to our libraries, if we would have these institutions depositaries of the genius of all times and all places. The Faculty of Advocates are probably not less virtuous at this moment than they were in 1754, yet they have now on their shelves the brilliant edition of all La Fontaine's works, published at Amsterdam in 1762,—so that the expurgatory zeal of the three curators, had only put their constituents to the expense of replacing the condemned book.[396:1] L'Écumoire may also still be found in the Advocates' library, along with the other still more censurable works of its author, Crebillon the younger, who was certainly a free writer, but scarcely deserved the very opprobrious name which he obtained, of the French Petronius. Hume was afterwards the acquaintance and correspondent of this author, who was anxious to hear that his works were well received in Britain. Would Hume tell him that it was considered in Edinburgh an offence against decency, to admit one of them to a national library? The other condemned work, which is generally attributed to Bussy Rabutin, is not now to be found in the catalogues of the Advocates' library.[396:2]

Amidst such unpleasant interruptions he brought the first volume of his History to a conclusion; and thus announces the fact to a friend, while in the midst of his satisfaction he does not forget poor Blacklock.

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"Sept. 1, 1754.

"Dear Doctor,—I desire you to give me joy. Jamque opus exegi, &c. This day I received from the press the last sheet of the volume of history which I intended to publish; and I am already well advanced in composing the second volume. It was impossible for the booksellers to refuse to several the sight of the sheets as we went on; and Whig and Tory, and Tory and Whig, (for I will alternately give them the precedence,) combine as I am told in approving of my politics. A few Christians only (and but a few) think I speak like a Libertine in religion: be assured I am tolerably reserved on this head. Elliot tells me that you had entertained apprehensions of my discretion: what I had done to forfeit with you the character of prudence, I cannot tell, but you will see little or no occasion for any such imputation in this work. I composed it ad populum, as well as ad clerum, and thought, that scepticism was not in its place in an historical production. I shall take care to convey a copy to you by the first opportunity, and shall be very proud of your approbation, and no less pleased with your reprehensions.

"Our friend Aber is again to enjoy the privilege of franking after a hiatus valde deflendus. Edmonstone is at Peterhead drinking the waters for his health. Sir Harry lives among his boroughs, but not so assiduous in his civilities as formerly; an instance of ingratitude which one would not expect in a man of such nice honour. I was lately told, that one day last winter he went to pay a visit to a deacon's wife, who happened in that very instant to be gutting fish. He came up to her with open arms, and said he hoped madam was well, and that the young ladies her daughters were in good health. 'Oh, come not near me,' cried she, 'Sir Harry; I am in a sad pickle, as nasty as a beast.'—'Not at all, madam,' replied he, 'you are in a very agreeable négligé.' 'Well,' said she, 'I shall never be able to understand your fine English.'—'I mean, madam,' returned he, 'that you are drest in a very genteel deshabillé.'

"There is a young man of this country, Mr. Thomas Blacklock, who has discovered a very fine genius for poetry, and under very extraordinary circumstances. He is the son of a poor tradesman, and was born blind; yet, notwithstanding these disadvantages, he has been able to acquire a great knowledge of Greek, Latin, and French, and to be well acquainted with all the classics in these languages, as well as in our own. He published last winter a volume of Miscellanies, which all men of taste admired extremely for their purity, elegance, and correctness; nor were they devoid of force and invention. I sent up half-a-dozen to Dodsley, desiring him to keep one, and to distribute the rest among men of taste of his acquaintance. I find they have been much approved of, and that Mr. Spence, in particular, has entertained thoughts of printing a new edition by subscription, for the benefit of the author. You are an acquaintance of Mr. Spence: encourage, I beseech you, so benevolent a thought, and promote it every where by your recommendation. The young man has a great deal of modesty, virtue, and goodness, as well as of genius, and notwithstanding very strict frugality, is in great necessities; but curst, or blest, with that honest pride of nature, which makes him uneasy under obligations, and disdain all applications. I need say no more to you. Dear Doctor, believe me, with great honesty and affection, your friend and servant."[399:1]

Before the year 1754 came to an end, there was published, in a quarto volume of four hundred and seventy-three pages, "The History of Great Britain. Volume I. Containing the reigns of James I. and Charles I. By David Hume, Esq."[399:2] He had now laid the foundation of a title to that which all the genius and originality of his philosophical works would never have procured for him—the reputation of a popular author. His other works might exhibit a wider and a more original grasp of thought: but the readers of metaphysics and ethics are a small number; while the readers of history, and especially of the history of their own country, are a community nearly as great as the number of those who can read their own language. In this large market he produced his ware; and after some hesitation on the part of those ordinary readers, who had never known his genius as a philosopher, and of those who knew his previous writings, but did not esteem them, it took the place of a permanent marketable commodity—a sort of necessary of literary life. The general reader found in it a distinct and animated narrative, announced in a style easy, strong, and elegant. The philosopher and statesman found in it profound and original views, such as the author of the "Treatise of Human Nature" could not wield the pen without occasionally dropping on his page. It was a work at once great in its excellencies and beauties, and great in its defects; yet even the latter circumstance swelled its fame, by producing a host of controversial attacks, conducted by no mean champions. No author or speaker could launch into a defence of monarchical prerogative without triumphantly citing the opinion of Hume;—no friend of any popular cause, from Chatham downwards, could appeal to history without condemning his plausible perversions. No season of a debating society has ever ended without the vexed questions he has started being discussed in conjunction with his name. Every newspaper has recorded the editor's opinion of the tendency of Hume's History. In reviews and magazines, and political pamphlets, the references, laudatory or condemnatory, are still, notwithstanding all that has been done for British history in later times, unceasing; and some books, of no small bulk, have been written, solely against the History, as one pamphlet is written against another.

Of a book which is so universally known, and has been subjected to so thorough a critical examination, both in its narrative and its reflective parts, a detailed criticism in a work like the present would be superfluous and unwelcome. But the great extent of the controversial writings on the subject, the quantity of able criticism which the controversy has produced, the new light it has frequently been the means of throwing on portions of British history, and the variety of contending opinions it has elicited, do, in some measure, enable one who is partial to that kind of reading, to note slightly and fugitively the leading opinions which this controversy has developed; and thus, looking back through the whole vista of debate and inquiry, to describe, in general terms, the estimate which those who have since Hume's time studied British history to best effect, have formed of his great work. Perhaps, for casting a glance at the general principles he has announced as to the progress of the constitution and public opinion in Britain, as well as the general scope and extent of his historical labours, his work may be divided into two leading departments; the history from the accession of the house of Tudor downwards, which he completed in 1759; and the history anterior to that epoch, which was published at a later period of his life. In this arrangement, the general observations will find their place in a subsequent portion of this work; while, in the meantime, the opinions entertained of the narrative department of the volume, published in 1754, may be noticed.

The chief charge brought against it has been, that in describing the great conflict which ended in the protectorate, the author has shown a partiality to the side of the monarch, and particularly to Charles I. and his followers; and has endeavoured to make the opposite side—Independents, Presbyterians, Republicans, or under whatever name they raised the banner of opposition to the court—odious and ridiculous.

Before Hume's day, every historian of those times took his side from the beginning of the narrative, and proclaimed himself either the champion or the opponent of the monarchical party. Salmon, Echard, and Carte[401:1] wrote histories, in which, if they had spoken with decency or temper of Oliver Cromwell, the Long Parliament, the Presbyterians, or the Independents, they would have felt that they had as much neglected their duty, as an advocate who, seeing some irregularity in the case of the opposite party, fails to take advantage of it. The title-page of Salmon announced his project: it promised "Remarks on Rapin, Burnet, and other Republican writers, vindicating the just right of the Established Church, and the prerogatives of the crown, against the wild schemes of enthusiasts and levellers, no less active and diligent in promoting the subversion of this beautiful frame of government, than their artful predecessors in hypocrisy," &c. But Hume professed to approach the subject as a philosopher, and to hold the balance even between Salmon and Echard on the one side, and Oldmixon and Rapin on the other. Hence, when it was believed that, under this air of impartiality, he masked a battery well loaded and skilfully pointed against the principles of the constitution, and the efforts of those who had fought for freedom, a louder cry of indignation was raised against him than had ever assailed the avowed retainers of the anti-popular cause.

The tendency of the History was unexpected and inexplicable. In his philosophical examination of the principles of government, written in times of hot party feeling, he had discarded the theories of arbitrary prerogative and divine right with bold and calm disdain. His utilitarian theory represented the good of the people, not the will or advantage of any one man, or small class of men, as the right object of government. Harrison, Milton, and Sidney, had not expressed opinions more thoroughly democratic than his. "Few things," says a critic, well accustomed to trace literary anomalies to their causes in the minds of their authors, "are more unaccountable, and, indeed, absurd, than that Hume should have taken part with high church and high monarchy men. The persecutions which he suffered in his youth from the Presbyterians, may, perhaps, have influenced his ecclesiastical partialities.[403:1] But that he should have sided with the Tudors and the Stuarts against the people, seems quite inconsistent with all the great traits of his character. His unrivalled sagacity must have looked with contempt on the preposterous arguments by which the jus divinum was maintained. His natural benevolence must have suggested the cruelty of subjecting the enjoyments of thousands to the caprice of one unfeeling individual; and his own practical independence in private life, might have taught him the value of those feelings which he has so mischievously derided."[403:2]

In truth, it does not appear that Hume had begun his work with the intention of adopting a side in the politics of the time; and that sympathy, rather than rational conviction or political prejudice, dictated his partisanship. His misapprehensions regarding the state of the constitution, and the early foundation of British liberties, may be attributed to another cause; but in his treatment of the question between Charles I. and his opponents, he appears to have set out with the design of preserving a rigid neutrality; to have gradually felt his sympathies wavering,—to have at first restrained them, then let them sway him slightly from the even middle path, and finally allowed them to take possession of his opinions; opinions which, in their form of expression, still preserved that tone of calm impartiality with which he had set out. In the work of Clarendon—a scholar, a gentleman, a dignified and elegant writer, a man of high-toned and manly feeling—he found an attractive guide. In looking at the structure of Hume's narrative, we can see that Clarendon was the author, whose account of the great conflict was chiefly present to his mind; and dwelling on his words and ideas, he must have in some measure felt the influence of that plausible writer. As he went on with his narrative, he found on the one side refinement and heroism, an elevated and learned priesthood, a chivalrous aristocracy, a refined court,—all "the divinity" that "doth hedge a king," followed by all the sad solemnity of fallen greatness,—an adverse contest, borne with steady courage, and humiliation and death endured with patient magnanimity. On the other side appeared plebeian thoughts, rude uncivil speech, barbarous and ludicrous fanaticism, and success consummated by ungenerous triumphs. His philosophical indifference gave way before such temptations, and he went the way of his sympathies. Yet he never permitted himself boldly and distinctly to profess partisanship: he still bore the badge of neutrality; and perhaps believed that he was swerving neither to the right hand nor to the left. An eloquent writer has thus vividly described the tone of his History:

Hume, without positively asserting more than he can prove, gives prominence to all the circumstances which can support his case. He glides lightly over those which are unfavourable to it. His own witnesses are applauded and encouraged; the statements which seem to throw discredit on them are controverted; the contradictions into which they fall are explained away; a clear and connected abstract of their evidence is given. Every thing that is offered on the other side is scrutinized with the utmost severity; every suspicious circumstance is a ground for comment and invective; what cannot be denied is extenuated, or passed by without notice. Concessions even are sometimes made; but this insidious candour only increases the effect of this vast mass of sophistry.[405:1]

Yet when there was any thing of a grand and solemn character in the proceedings of the Republican party,—when they were not connected with the rude guards, and their insults to the fallen majesty of England; with the long psalms, long sermons, and long faces of the Puritans; with Trouble-world Lilburne, Praise-God Barebones, or eccentric, stubborn, impracticable William Prynne,—he could employ the easy majesty of his language in surrounding them with a suiting dignity of tone; and he did so with apparent pleasure. Witness his description of the meeting of the Long Parliament, and of the preparations for the king's trial before the High Court of Justice.

He seems to have felt, not unfrequently, the inconsistencies that must be perceptible between the tone of his historical, and the political doctrines of his philosophical works; and his attempts to reconcile them with each other, sometimes only serve to make the difference more conspicuous. Speaking of the act of holding judgment on Charles I., he says, "If ever, on any occasion, it were laudable to conceal truth from the populace, it must be confessed that the doctrine of resistance affords such an example; and that all speculative reasoners ought to observe, with regard to this principle, the same cautious silence which the laws, in every species of government, have ever prescribed to themselves." One could imagine a congress of crowned heads, or a conclave of cardinals, adopting such a view; and resolving, at the same moment, that it should be kept as secret as the grave. But that a man should speak of the right of resistance as existing, and say the knowledge of it ought not to be promulgated, and print and publish this in a book in his own vernacular language, is surely as remarkable an anomaly, as the history of practical contradictions can exhibit.

Owing to his opinion of the manner in which the Abbé Le Blanc had rendered his "Political Discourses" into French, he expressed a wish, in the following courteous letter, that the History should have the benefit of being translated by the same hand.

Hume to the Abbé Le Blanc.

"Edinburgh, 15th October, 1754.

"Sir,—You will receive, along with this, a copy of the first volume of my 'History of Great Britain,' which will be published next winter in London. The honour which you did me in translating my 'Political Discourses,' inspires me with an ambition of desiring to have this work translated by the same excellent hand. The great curiosity of the events related in this volume, embellished by your elegant pen, might challenge the attention of the public. If you do not undertake this translation, I despair of ever seeing it done in a satisfactory manner. Many intricacies in the English government,—many customs peculiar to this island, require explication; and it will be necessary to accompany the translation with some notes, however short, in order to render it intelligible to foreigners. None but a person as well acquainted as you with England and the English constitution, can pretend to clear up obscurities, or explain the difficulties which occur. If, at any time, you find yourself at a loss, be so good as to inform me. I shall spare no pains to solve all doubts; and convey all the lights which, by my long and assiduous study of the subject, I may have acquired. The distance betwixt us need be no impediment to this correspondence. If you favour me frequently with your letters, I shall be able to render you the same service as if I had the happiness of living next door to you, and was able to inspect the whole translation. In this attempt, the knowledge of the two languages is but one circumstance to qualify a man for a translator. Though your attainments, in this respect, be known to all the world, I own that I trust more to the spirit of reflection and reasoning which you discover; and I thence expect that my performance will not only have justice done it, but will even receive considerable improvements as it passes through your hands. I am, with great regard, Sir, your most obedient and most humble servant."[407:1]

The Abbé received the proposal with rapture: he offered to translate with the zeal not only of the illustrious author's admirer, but of his friend. He desired Hume to postpone the publication for a while in London, and to send him the sheets with the utmost rapidity, lest he might be forestalled by some of that numerous host of rapid penmen, who are ready, in obedience to the commands of the booksellers, to translate such works, without knowing English, or even French. Holland was at that period a great book mart, and there the Abbé found rivals still more expeditious; for he was obliged to write to Hume, at a time when he seems to have made little or no progress with his work, stating that he is disheartened by the prospect of the immediate appearance of a translation in Holland, where they employ, in the rendering of excellent books into French, people who are only fit to manufacture paper. In the end, having encountered a host of interruptions, he intimates that he has placed the work in the hands of another person.[408:1]

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"Oct. 18th, 1754.

"Dear Doctor,—I received your kind letter, for which I thank you. Poor Aber[408:2] is disappointed by a train of Norland finesse, alas—what you will. I have given orders to deliver to you a copy of my History, as soon as it arrives in London, and before it be published. Lend it not till it be published. It contains no paradoxes, and very little profaneness,—as little as could be expected. The Abbé Le Blanc, who has translated some other of my pieces, intends to translate it, and the enclosed is part of a copy I send him: excuse the freedom—you may perhaps receive some other packets of the same kind, which you will please to send carefully to the post-house. The General and Sir Henry are in town, who remember you. Edmonstone is well, and I just now left him a-bed. I may perhaps be in London for good and all in a year or two. Show me that frugality could make £120 a-year do, and I am with you: a man of letters ought always to live in a capital, says Bayle. I believe I have no more to say. You'll own that my style has not become more verbose, on account of my writing quartos. Yours affectionately," &c.[409:1]

Hume to William Mure of Caldwell.

"Dear Mure,—I had sent to Sharpe a copy of my History, of which I hope you will tell me your opinion with freedom;

"The first quality of an historian, is to be true and impartial. The next to be interesting. If you do not say that I have done both parties justice, and if Mrs. Mure be not sorry for poor King Charles, I shall burn all my papers and return to philosophy.

"I shall send a copy to Paris to L'Abbé Le Blanc, who has translated some other of my pieces; and therefore your corrections and amendments may still be of use, and prevent me from misleading or tiring the French nation. We shall also make a Dublin edition; and it were a pity to put the Irish farther wrong than they are already. I shall also be so sanguine as to hope for a second edition, when I may correct all errors. You know my docility."[410:1]

Hume to Mrs. Dysart of Eccles.

"9th October.

"Dear Madam,—As I send you a long book, you will allow me to write a short letter, with this fruit of near two years' very constant application, my youngest and dearest child. You should have read it sooner; but, during the fine weather, I foresaw that it would produce some inconvenience: either you would attach yourself so much to the perusal of me, as to neglect walking, riding, and field diversions, which are much more beneficial than any history; or if this beautiful season tempted you, I must lie in a corner, neglected and forgotten. I assure you I would take the pet if so treated. Now that the weather has at last broke, and long nights are joined to wind and rain, and that a fireside has become the most agreeable object, a new book, especially if wrote by a friend, may not be unwelcome. In expectation, then, that you are to peruse me first with pleasure, then with ease, I expect to hear your remarks, and Mr. Dysart's, and the Solicitor's. Whether am I Whig or Tory? Protestant or Papist? Scotch or English? I hope you do not all agree on this head, and that there are disputes among you about my principles. We never see you in town, and I can never get to the country; but I hope I preserve a place in your memory. I am, &c.

"P.S.—I have seen John Hume's new unbaptized play,[411:1] and it is a very fine thing. He now discovers a great genius for the theatre."

[Written at the top.] "I must beg of you not to lend the book out of your house, on any account, till the middle of November; any body may read it in the house."[411:2]

In a continuation of the letter, of which the part relating to Blacklock was cited above, he thus desires Adam Smith's opinion of the History:—

"Pray tell me, and tell me ingenuously, what success has my History met with among the judges with you. I mean Dr. Cullen, Mr. Betham, Mrs. Betham, Mr. Leichman, Mr. Muirhead, Mr. Crawford, &c. Dare I presume that it has been thought worthy of examination, and that its beauties are found to overbalance its defects? I am very desirous to know my errors; and I dare swear you think me tolerably docile to be so veteran an author. I cannot, indeed, hope soon to have an opportunity of correcting my errors; this impression is so very numerous. The sale, indeed, has been very great in Edinburgh; but how it goes on in London, we have not been precisely informed. In all cases I am desirous of storing up instruction; and as you are now idle, (I mean, have nothing but your class to teach, which to you is comparative idleness,) I will insist upon hearing from you.

"Edinburgh, 17th Dec. 1754."

The following letter, still on the same subject, introduces the name of a new correspondent.

Hume to the Earl of Balcarres.

"Edinburgh, 17th December, 1754.

"My Lord,—I did really intend to have paid my respects to your lordship this harvest; but I have got into such a recluse, studious habit, that I believe myself only fit to converse with books; and, however I may pretend to be acquainted with dead kings, shall become quite unsuitable for my friends and cotemporaries. Besides, the great gulf that is fixed between us terrifies me. I am not only very sick at sea, but often can scarce get over the sickness for some days.

"I am very proud that my History, even upon second thoughts, appears to have something tolerable in your lordship's eyes. It has been very much canvassed and read here in town, as I am told; and it has full as many inveterate enemies as partial defenders. The misfortune of a book, says Boileau, is not the being ill spoke of, but the not being spoken of at all. The sale has been very considerable here, about four hundred and fifty copies in five weeks. How it has succeeded in London, I cannot precisely tell; only I observe that some of the weekly papers have been busy with me.—I am as great an Atheist as Bolingbroke; as great a Jacobite as Carte; I cannot write English, &c. I do, indeed, observe that the book is in general rather more agreeable to those they call Tories; and I believe, chiefly for this reason, that, having no places to bestow, they are naturally more moderate in their expectations from a writer. A Whig, who can give hundreds a-year, will not be contented with small sacrifices of truth; and most authors are willing to purchase favour at so reasonable a price.

"I wish it were in my power to pass this Christmas at Balcarres. I should be glad to accompany your lordship in your rural improvements, and return thence to relish with pleasure the comforts of your fireside. You enjoy peace and contentment, my lord, which all the power and wealth of the nation cannot give to our rulers. The whole ministry, they say, is by the ears. This quarrel, I hope, they will fight out among themselves, and not expect to draw us in as formerly, by pretending it is for our good. We will not be the dupes twice in our life.

"I have the honour to be, my lord, your lordship's most obedient and most humble servant."[413:1]

The literary success that would satisfy Hume required to be of no small amount. Though neither, in any sense, a vain man, nor a caterer for ephemeral applause, he was greedy of fame; and what would have been to others pre-eminent success, appears to have, in his eyes, scarcely risen above failure. His expressions about the reception of his History, have a tinge of morbidness. In John Home's memorandum of his latest conversations, it is said that "he recurred to a subject not unfrequent with him, that is, the design to ruin him as an author, by the people that were ministers at the first publication of his History."[414:1] In his "own life," written at the same time, the only passage truly bitter in its tone, gives fuller expression to a like feeling:—"I was, I own, sanguine in my expectations of the success of this work. I thought that I was the only historian that had at once neglected present power, interest, and authority, and the cry of popular prejudices; and as the subject was suited to every capacity, I expected proportional applause. But miserable was my disappointment: I was assailed by one cry of reproach, disapprobation, and even detestation; English, Scotch, and Irish, Whig and Tory, Churchman and Sectary, Freethinker and Religionist, Patriot and Courtier, united in their rage against the man who had presumed to shed a generous tear for the fate of Charles I. and the Earl of Strafford; and after the first ebullitions of their fury were over, what was still more mortifying, the book seemed to sink into oblivion. Mr. Millar told me, that in a twelvemonth he sold only forty-five copies of it. I scarcely, indeed, heard of one man in the three kingdoms, considerable for rank or letters, that could endure the book. I must only except the primate of England, Dr. Herring, and the primate of Ireland, Dr. Stone, which seem two odd exceptions. These dignified prelates separately sent me messages not to be discouraged.

"I was however, I confess, discouraged; and had not the war been, at that time, breaking out between France and England, I had certainly retired to some provincial town of the former kingdom, have changed my name, and never more have returned to my native country. But as this scheme was not now practicable, and the subsequent volume was considerably advanced, I resolved to pick up courage, and to persevere."

Andrew Millar, a countryman of Hume, had, about this time, formed an extensive publishing connexion in London. An arrangement was made, by which he should take the History under his protection,—publish the subsequent volumes, and push the sale of the first. The arrangement is said to have been recommended by Hume's Edinburgh publishers; and it shows how much, in that age, as probably also in this, even a great work may depend on the publisher's exertions, for giving it a hold on the public mind. Hume had a pretty extensive correspondence with Millar. Many of the letters are purely on business, and sometimes on business not very important; but others, such as the following, have some literary interest. Hume appears to have contemplated a translation of Plutarch, and Millar seems to have wished to make him editor of a London newspaper.

Hume to Andrew Millar.

"12th April, 1755.

"The second volume of my History I can easily find a way of conveying to you when finished and corrected, and fairly copied. Perhaps I may be in London myself about that time. I have always said, to all my acquaintance, that if the first volume bore a little of a Tory aspect, the second would probably be as grateful to the opposite party. The two first princes of the house of Stuart were certainly more excusable than the two second. The constitution was, in their time, very ambiguous and undetermined; and their parliaments were, in many respects, refractory and obstinate. But Charles the Second knew that he had succeeded to a very limited monarchy. His long parliament was indulgent to him, and even consisted almost entirely of royalists. Yet he could not be quiet, nor contented with a legal authority. I need not mention the oppressions in Scotland, nor the absurd conduct of King James the Second. These are obvious and glaring points. Upon the whole, I wish the two volumes had been published together. Neither one party nor the other would, in that case, have had the least pretext of reproaching me with partiality.

"I shall give no farther umbrage to the godly, though I am far from thinking, that my liberties on that head have been the real cause of checking the sale of the first volume. They might afford a pretext for decrying it to those who were resolved on other accounts to lay hold of pretexts.

"Pray tell Dr. Birch, if you have occasion to see him, that his story of the warrant for Lord Loudon's execution, though at first I thought it highly improbable, appears to me at present a great deal more likely.[416:1] I find the same story in "Scotstarvet's Staggering State,"[417:1] which was published here a few months ago. The same story, coming from different canals, without any dependence on each other, bears a strong air of probability. I have spoke to Duke Hamilton, who says, that I shall be very welcome to peruse all his papers. I shall take the first opportunity of going to the bottom of that affair; and if I find any confirmation of the suspicion, will be sure to inform Dr. Birch. I own it is the strongest instance of any which history affords, of King Charles's arbitrary principles.

"I have made a trial of Plutarch, and find that I take pleasure in it; but cannot yet form so just a notion of the time and pains which it will require, as to tell you what sum of money I would think an equivalent. But I shall be sure to inform you as soon as I come to a resolution. The notes requisite will not be numerous,—not so many as in the former edition. I think so bulky a book ought to be swelled as little as possible; and nothing added but what is absolutely requisite. The little trial I have made, convinces me that the undertaking will require time. My manner of composing is slow, and I have great difficulty to satisfy myself."[417:2]

Hume to Adam Smith.

"Edinburgh, 9th January, 1755.

"Dear Sir,—I beg you to make my compliments to the Society,[417:3] and to take the fault on yourself, if I have not executed my duty, and sent them, this time, my anniversary paper. Had I got a week's warning I should have been able to have supplied them. I should willingly have sent some sheets of the history of the Commonwealth, or Protectorship; but they are all of them out of my hand at present, and I have not been able to recall them.

"I think you are extremely in the right, that the Parliament's bigotry has nothing in common with Hiero's generosity. They were, themselves, violent persecutors at home, to the utmost of their power. Besides, the Hugunots in France were not persecuted; they were really seditious, turbulent people, whom their king was not able to reduce to obedience. The French persecutions did not begin till sixty years after.

"Your objection to the Irish massacre is just, but falls not on the execution, but the subject. Had I been to describe the massacre of Paris, I should not have fallen into that fault. But, in the Irish massacre, no single eminent man fell, or by a remarkable death.[418:1] If the elocution of the whole chapter be blamable, it is because my conception laboured with too great an idea of my subject, which is there the most important. But that misfortune is not unusual. I am," &c.[418:2]

We shall have farther occasion to notice the deep interest which Hume took in John Home's tragedy of Douglas. The following letter, which is without date, was, probably, written at the beginning of the year 1755, and before Home made his unsuccessful journey to London, to submit his effort to the judgment of Garrick.

Hume to John Home.

"Dear Sir,—With great pleasure I have more than once perused your tragedy. It is interesting, affecting, pathetic. The story is simple and natural; but what chiefly delights me, is to find the language so pure, correct, and moderate. For God's sake read Shakspere, but get Racine and Sophocles by heart. It is reserved to you, and you alone, to redeem our stage from the reproach of barbarism.

"I have not forgot your request to find fault; but as you had neither numbered the pages nor the lines in your copy, I cannot point out particular expressions. I have marked the margin, and shall tell you my opinion when I have the pleasure of seeing you. The more considerable objections seem to be these: Glenalvon's character is too abandoned. Such a man is scarce in nature; at least it is inartificial in a poet to suppose such a one, as if he could not conduct his fable by the ordinary passions, infirmities, and vices of human nature. Lord Barnet's[419:1] character is not enough decided; he hovers betwixt vice and virtue; which, though it be not unnatural, is not sufficiently theatrical nor tragic. After Anna had lived eighteen years with Lady Barnet, and yet had been kept out of the secret, there seems to be no sufficient reason why, at that very time, she should have been let into it. The spectator is apt to suspect that it was in order to instruct him; a very good end, indeed, but which might have been attained by a careful and artificial conduct of the dialogue.

"There seem to be too many casual rencounters. Young Forman[420:1] passing by chance, saves Lord Barnet; Old Forman, passing that way, by chance, is arrested. Why might not Young Forman be supposed to be coming to the castle, in order to serve under Lord Barnet, and Old Forman, having had some hint of his intention, to have followed him that way?

[Some lines torn off and lost.]

Might not Anna be supposed to have returned to her mistress after long absence? This might account for a greater flow of confidence."[420:2]

Hume to Andrew Millar.

"Edinburgh, 12th June, 1755.

"Dear Sir,—I give you a great many thanks for thinking of me in your project of a weekly paper. I approve very much of the design, as you explain it to me; and there is nobody I would more willingly engage with. But, as I have another work in hand, which requires great labour and care to finish, I cannot think of entering on a new undertaking, till I have brought this to a conclusion. Your scheme would require me immediately to remove to London; and I live here, at present, in great tranquillity, with all my books around me; and I cannot think of changing while I have so great a work in hand as the finishing of my History.

"There are four short Dissertations, which I have kept some years by me, in order to polish them as much as possible. One of them is that which Allan Ramsay mentioned to you. Another, of the Passions; a third, of Tragedy; a fourth, some Considerations previous to Geometry and Natural Philosophy.[421:1] The whole, I think, would make a volume, a fourth less than my Inquiry, as nearly as I can calculate; but it would be proper to print it in a larger type, in order to bring it to the same size and price. I would have it published about the new year; and I offer you the property for fifty guineas, payable at the publication. You may judge, by my being so moderate in my demands, that I do not propose to make any words about the bargain. It would be more convenient for me to print here, especially one of the Dissertations, where there is a good deal of literature; but, as the manuscript is distinct and accurate, it would not be impossible for me to correct it, though printed at London. I leave it to your choice; though I believe that it might be as cheaply and conveniently and safely executed here. However, the matter is pretty near indifferent to me. I would fain prognosticate better than you say with regard to my History; that you expect little sale till the publication of the second volume. I hope the prejudices will dissipate sooner. I am," &c.[422:1]

In 1755, an effort was made to establish a periodical Review in Scotland, characterized by a higher literary spirit, and a more original tone of thinking, than the other periodical literature of the day could boast. It assumed the name, so famous in later times, of The Edinburgh Review. With such contributors as Smith, Robertson, Blair, and Jardine, it could not fail to achieve its object, so far as its own merit was concerned; but the public did not appreciate its excellence, and it died after two half-yearly numbers, which may now be found on the shelves of the curious. On this matter, Mackenzie says,

David Hume was not among the number of the writers of the Review, though we should have thought he would have been the first person whose co-operation they would have sought. But I think I have heard that they were afraid both of his extreme good nature, and his extreme artlessness; that, from the one, their criticisms would have been weakened or suppressed; and, from the other, their secret discovered. The merits of the work strongly attracted his attention, and he expressed his surprise, to some of the gentlemen concerned in it, with whom he was daily in the habit of meeting, at the excellence of a performance written, as he presumed, from his ignorance on the subject, by some persons out of their own literary circle. It was agreed to communicate the secret to him at a dinner, which was shortly after given by one of their number. At that dinner he repeated his wonder on the subject of The Edinburgh Review. One of the company said he knew the authors, and would tell them to Mr. Hume upon his giving an oath of secrecy. "How is the oath to be taken," said David, with his usual pleasantry, "of a man accused of so much scepticism as I am? You would not trust my Bible oath; but I will swear by the το καλον and the το πρεπον never to reveal your secret." He was then told the names of the authors and the plan of the work; but it was not continued long enough to allow of his contributing any articles.[423:1]

It was a strong judgment to pass on a man who filled the office of secretary of legation, and under-secretary of state, that a secret was not safe in his keeping. Perhaps Hume had acquired absent habits about trifles. But he could transact important business with ability, and keep important secrets with strictness. There is a general propensity to find, in the nature and habits of abstruse thinkers, an innocent simplicity about the passing affairs of the world, which is often dispelled by a nearer view of their characters. Hume was careless about small matters; but in the serious transactions of life, he was sagacious, prompt, and energetic. Though he did not contribute to it, he owed some substantial services to this periodical, in the conflict in the ecclesiastical courts, which, in the course of events, comes now to be considered.[424:1]

Hume was not one of those who, when they find that the opinions they have formed are at variance with those of the rest of mankind, blaze the unpopular portions forth in the light of day, or fling them in the face of their adversaries. Among his intimate friends, he could pass sly jests about his opinions; using, in regard to them, those strong expressions which he knew his adversaries would apply to them. But he disliked ostentation of any kind. He particularly disliked the ostentation of singularity; and so little was he aware that he was outraging any of the world's opinions, in promulgating the fruits of his metaphysical speculations, that he appears to have been much astonished that any one should find in them any ground for serious objection, and to have marvelled greatly that clergymen and others should deem him an unfit person to be a professor of moral philosophy, or a teacher of youth. "Rara temporum felicitas, ubi sentire quæ velis, et quæ sentias dicere, licet," was the motto of his first work; and he seems to have thought that he lived in an age when speculation might soar with unclipped wings, and when his opinions would be questioned only before the tribunal of reason.

In all this, however, he now found that he was mistaken, and that there were persons who, professing to have charge of these matters, and to know the final judgment concerning them, thought right to execute it on earth, by punishing the man whose opinions were different from their own. The soul of this crusade was a certain Reverend George Anderson, a restless, fiery, persevering being, probably of great polemical note in his day, the observed of all observers as he passed through the city, a Boanerges in church courts; but now only known through the eminence of those against whom the fury of his zeal was directed. Hume was not the only object of pursuit. Other game was started at the same time in the person of his friend, Lord Kames. It is somewhat remarkable, that it was against the latter that the pursuit was most persevering and bitter. He was certainly not a man likely to have provoked such attacks. It is true that he meddled with dangerous subjects, but he did so with great caution and skill. Bred to the practice of the bar, at a time when the advocate often felt a temptation to insinuate doctrines which could not be proclaimed without risk, he became like a chemist who is expert in the safe manipulation of detonating materials. Yet he made a narrow escape; for as he had been raised to the bench in 1752, any proceeding by a church court, professing to subject him to punishment, temporal or eternal, however lightly it might have fallen on a philosopher, might have tended materially to injure the usefulness of a judge.

Kames' work, which was published in 1751, and entitled "Essays on the Principles of Morality and Natural Religion," bears evident marks of having been written in opposition to the opinions laid down by Hume, although the author probably did not wish to expose the works of his kind friend to odium, by making a particular reference to them. It is clear that he considered his own opinions likely to be so very popular among the orthodox, that it would be doing an evil turn to his friend, to mention him as the promulgator of views on the other side. In his advertisement, he said, the object of his book was "to prepare the way for a proof of the existence of the Deity," and the Essays end with a prayer. Their leading principle is, that according to the doctrine of predestination, there can be no liberty to human beings, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, while the Deity has nevertheless, for wise purposes, which we cannot fathom, implanted in our race the feeling that we are free. Some have held that, while the scheme of predestination was exhibited by Hume as a mere metaphysical theory, Kames united it to vital religion. He had the misfortune, however, to write in a philosophical tone; and those who constituted themselves judges of the matter, seem to have taken example from the stern father, who, when there is a quarrel in the nursery, punishes both sides, because quarrelling is a thing not allowed in the house. In a letter to Michael Ramsay, Hume says, in continuation of a passage printed above,[427:1] "Have you seen our friend Harry's Essays? They are well wrote, and are an unusual instance of an obliging method of answering a book. Philosophers must judge of the question; but the clergy have already decided it, and say he is as bad as me! Nay, some affirm him to be worse,—as much as a treacherous friend is worse than an open enemy." Dr. Blair is believed to have been the champion of Kames; and the following notice of his connexion with the controversy, given by Mackenzie, is valuable and instructive.

It is a singular enough coincidence with some church proceedings, about fifty years after,[427:2] that Dr. Blair, in defence of his friend's Essays, expressly states, that one purpose of those Essays was to controvert what appeared to him to be a very dangerous doctrine, held by the author of certain other Essays, then recently published, (by Mr. David Hume,) that, by no principle in human nature, can we discover any real connexion between cause and effect. According to Dr. Blair, the object of one of Lord Kames' Essays is to show, that though such connexion is not discoverable by reason, and by a process of argumentative induction, there is, nevertheless, a real and obvious connexion, which every one intuitively perceives between an effect and its cause. We feel and acknowledge, that every effect implies a cause; that nothing can begin to exist without a cause of its existence. "We are not left," says the author of the Vindication, "to gather our belief of a Deity, from inferences and conclusions deduced through intermediate steps, many or few. How unhappy would it be, for the great bulk of mankind, if this were necessary!"