Chapter IX: 1752-1755. Æt. 41-44 (2)

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;

Finding, like a friend,
Something to blame, and something to commend.

"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!"

The first attack was made in a pamphlet, called "An Estimate of the Profit and Loss of Religion, personally and publicly stated: illustrated with reference to 'Essays on Morality and Natural Religion,'" published at Edinburgh, in 1753; the work of Anderson himself, and endowed with all the marks of its author. This was levelled against Kames alone; but it was followed in 1755 by a pamphlet, in which, under the name of Sopho, he was coupled with Hume, thus: "An Analysis of the Moral and Religious Sentiments contained in the Writings of Sopho and David Hume, Esq., addressed to the consideration of the reverend and honourable members of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland." "My design," says the author, "is to analyze the works of these celebrated authors, giving their own expressions under the different heads to which they seem to belong. This method, I imagine, will not only give the clearest view of the sentiments of these gentlemen, but is such as they themselves must allow to be the most fair and candid; because if, in stating the proposition, I should happen to mistake their meaning, their own words, subjoined, must immediately do them justice." With this preamble, the writer ranges his quotations under such heads as, "All distinction betwixt virtue and vice is merely imaginary;" "Adultery is very lawful, but sometimes not expedient," &c.

A counter pamphlet was published, called "Observations upon a pamphlet, entitled 'An Analysis of the Moral and Religious Sentiments contained in the Writings of Sopho and David Hume, Esq.'"[428:1] In reference to his opponents' boasted series of accurate quotations, the writer of this answer says, "If there should be found passages which are neither the words nor the meaning of the author, the falsehood cannot be palliated nor excused." And then, after giving a specimen of these "accurate" quotations, he says,--

"In all that page there is no such sentence, neither is there
any such sentiment to be found. The passage from the beginning
is as follows," &c. and he continues: "To glean disunited
sentences, to patch them together arbitrarily, to omit the
limitations or remarks with which a proposition is delivered;
can this be styled exhibiting the sentiments of an author? I
hope I shall not be thought to deviate into any thing
ludicrous, when I refer the reader to a well-known treatise of
the Dean of St. Patrick's, in which the inquisitorial method
of interpretation in the Church of Rome is by so just and so
severe raillery rendered detestable. _Si non totidem
sententiis, ast totidem verbis; si non totidem verbis, ast
totidem syllabis; si non totidem syllabis ast totidem
literis._ This is the genuine logic of persecution."[429:1]

The matter was brought before the immediately ensuing General Assembly, that of 1755; by which a general resolution was passed, expressive of the Church's "utmost abhorrence" of "impious and infidel principles," and of "the deepest concern on account of the prevalence of infidelity and immorality, the principles whereof have been, to the disgrace of our age and nation, so openly avowed in several books published of late in this country, and which are but too well known amongst us." But this general anathema was not sufficient to satisfy the pious zeal of Mr. Anderson, who, in anticipation of the meeting of the Assembly in 1756, wrote another pamphlet, called "Infidelity a proper object of censure."

The initiatory step in the legislative business of the General Assembly, is the bringing before it an overture, which has previously obtained the sanction, either of one of the inferior church courts, or of a committee of the Assembly for preparing overtures. In such a committee, it was moved on 28th May, 1756, that the following overture should be transmitted to the Assembly.

"The General Assembly, judging it their duty to do all in
their power to check the growth and progress of infidelity;
and considering, that as infidel writings have begun of late
years to be published in this nation, against which they have
hitherto only testified in general, so there is one person
styling himself David Hume, Esq. who hath arrived at such a
degree of boldness as publicly to avow himself the author of
books containing the most rude and open attacks upon the
glorious gospel of Christ, and principles evidently subversive
even of natural religion, and the foundations of morality, if
not establishing direct atheism: therefore the Assembly
appoint the following persons . . . . . as a committee to
inquire into the writings of this author, to call him before
them, and prepare the matter for the next General Assembly."

The matter was discussed with the usual keenness of such debates in such bodies. But toleration was triumphant, and the overture was rejected by fifty votes to seventeen.[430:1]

Still the indefatigable Anderson returned to the charge, though he brought it against humbler persons in a less conspicuous arena. As he found the authors above his reach, he resolved to proceed against the booksellers; and he brought before the Presbytery of Edinburgh a "Petition and Complaint" against Alexander Kincaid and Alexander Donaldson, the publishers of "Kames' Essays," praying, "that the said printer and booksellers may be summoned to the next meeting of the Presbytery, and there and then to declare and give up the author of the said book; and that he and they may be censured, according to the law of the gospel, and the practice of this and all other well-governed churches." Anderson indeed would seem to have imbibed the spirit of the great Anthony Arnauld: who, when Nicole spoke of some rest from the endless war of polemical controversy, exclaimed, "Rest! will you not have enough of rest hereafter, through all eternity?" Before the Presbytery could meet he accordingly published another pamphlet, called "the Complaint of George Anderson, minister of the gospel, verified by passages in the book libelled." He died in the 19th October,[432:1] just ten days before the meeting of the presbytery, for which he had made such active preparation. He fell in harness, and the departure of the restless spirit of the champion from its tenement of clay, was death to the cause. After the perusal of written pleadings, and a formal debate, the complaint was dismissed.

This matter appears to have given Hume very little disturbance. He does not mention it in his "own life." He laboured uninterruptedly at the second volume of his History; and his correspondence, which we may now resume, will be found to pursue its even tenor, taking no farther notice of the proceedings of his opponents, than the simple question put to Smith, whether it will be a matter of much consequence if he should be excommunicated?

HUME _to_ DR. CLEPHANE.

"_Edinburgh, 20th April, 1756._

"DEAR DOCTOR,--There is certainly nothing so unaccountable as my long silence with you; that is, with a man whose friendship I desire most to preserve of any I know, and whose conversation I would be the most covetous to enjoy, were I in the same place with him. But to tell the truth, we people in the country, (for such you Londoners esteem our city,) are apt to be troublesome to you people in town; we are vastly glad to receive letters which convey intelligence to us of things which we should otherwise have been ignorant of, and can pay them back with nothing but provincial stories, which are no way interesting. It was perhaps an apprehension of this kind which held my pen: but really, I believe, the truth is, when I was idle, I was lazy--when I was busy, I was so extremely busy, that I had no leisure to think of any thing else. For, dear Doctor, what have we to do with news on either side, unless it be literary news, which I hope will always interest us? and of these, London seems to me as barren as Edinburgh; or rather more so, since I can tell you that our friend Hume's 'Douglas,' is altered and finished, and will be brought out on the stage next winter, and is a singular, as well as fine performance, [----[433:1]] of the spirit of the English theatre, not devoid of Attic and French elegance. You have sent us nothing worth reading this winter; even your vein of wretched novels is dried up, though not that of scurrilous partial politics. We hear of Sir George Lyttleton's History, from which the populace expect a great deal: but I hear it is to be three quarto volumes. 'O, magnum horribilem et sacrum Libellum.'--This last epithet of _sacrum_ will probably be applicable to it in more senses than one. However, it cannot well fail to be readable, which is a great deal for an English book now-a-days.

"But, dear Doctor, even places more hyperborean than this, more provincial, more uncultivated, and more barbarous, may furnish articles for a literary correspondence. Have you seen the second volume of Blackwell's 'Court of Augustus?' I had it some days lying on my table, and, on turning it over, met with passages very singular for their ridicule and absurdity. He says that Mark Antony, travelling from Rome in a post-chaise, lay the first night at Redstones: I own I did not think this a very classical name; but, on recollection, I found, by the Philippics, that he lay at Saxa Rubra. He talks also of Mark Antony's favourite poet, Mr. Gosling, meaning Anser, who, methinks, should rather be called Mr. Goose. He also takes notice of Virgil's distinguishing himself, in his youth, by his epigram on Crossbow the robber! Look your Virgil, you'll find that, like other robbers, this man bore various names. Crossbow is the name he took at Aberdeen, but Balista at Rome. The book has many other flowers[434:1] of a like nature, which made me exclaim, with regard to the author,

Nec _certe_[435:1] apparet . . . utrum
Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental
Moverit incestus. Certe furit.

But other people, who have read through the volume, say that, notwithstanding these absurdities, it does not want merit; and, if it be so, I own the case is still more singular. What would you think of a man who should speak of the mayorality of Mr. Veitch; meaning the consulship of Cicero?--Is not this a fine way of avoiding the imputation of pedantry? Perhaps Cicero, to modernize him entirely, should be called Sir Mark Veitch, because his father was a Roman knight.

"I do not find your name among the subscribers of my friend Blacklock's poems, you have forgot; buy a copy of them and read them, they are many of them very elegant, and merit esteem, if they came from any one, but are admirable from him. [----[435:2]] Spence's industry in so good a work, but there is a circumstance of his conduct that will entertain you. In the Edinburgh edition there was a stanza to this effect:

The wise in every age conclude,
What Pyrrho taught and Hume renewed,
That Dogmatists are fools.