Chapter XVII: 1771-1776. Æt. 60-65 (2)

If there should be any doubts of the genuineness of this letter, from its having first appeared, unauthenticated, in a periodical work, they will be removed by the perusal of the following answer by Sir John Pringle, printed from the original manuscript.

SIR JOHN PRINGLE _to_ HUME.

_London, 5th November, 1773_.

DEAR SIR,--I was much obliged to you for your letter of the
10th ult., as it furnished me with sufficient means for
maintaining my credit with Lord Hardwicke, a person I have not
the honour to be well known to; and I had the more occasion
for such a testimony as yours, as the other earl, mentioned in
your letter, has thought proper, (I presume since he has once
more become a courtier,) to deny his knowing any thing of the
story, when one of the company, (where I told the anecdote to
Lord Hardwicke,) inquired of him about it.

Lord Hardwicke, not being in town when yours came to hand, I
charged his intimate friend, Mr. Wray, who was going to visit
him, with it. Yesterday, that gentleman returned, and, with
the letter, sent me a line, expressing his lordship's great
satisfaction in the communication; and with many thanks to us
both for it. I understand he is very curious in picking up
such historical facts; and, if so, he certainly never met with
any thing of that kind more suited to his genius. The most
extraordinary circumstance is, that of the _pied et poing
liés_; and yet your authority seems to be unexceptionable.
What could be expected from an adventurer whom they had been
obliged to treat in that humiliating manner? and whose
timidity, they must believe, was every now and then to recur,
to affront those that set him upon the enterprise? I know that
_our_ people were at great pains to decry his courage, after
the battle of Culloden; but that I considered always as done
upon a political, rather than an historical principle. I had
good evidence for believing that, at Derby, he was, of the
council of war, the person who stood longest out against the
motion for returning, and not advancing to London. Again, he
was for standing at the Spey; and, lastly, he did not retire
from Culloden till his whole band was put to flight. It is
true he never advanced nearer than the corps de réserve; but
which corresponded to our second line, in which the Duke of
Cumberland placed himself. I may add, that both of us have
been informed, that he betrayed no unmanly concern, when he
skulked so long with his female heroine; and then, surely, he
was daily in the greatest danger of his life; had he been
taken he would have met with no quarter. But, after all, these
testimonies, in favour of his courage, must yield to such
proofs as you bring to the contrary.[466:1]

HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.

"_St. Andrew's Square, 24th Feb., 1773._

"DEAR SMITH,--There are two late publications here which I advise you to commission. The first is Andrew Stuart's Letters to Lord Mansfield, which they say have met with vast success in London. Andrew has eased his own mind, and no bad effects are to follow. Lord Mansfield is determined, absolutely, to neglect them. The other is Lord Monboddo's treatise on the Origin and Progress of Language, which is only part of a larger work. It contains all the absurdity and malignity which I expected; but is writ with more ingenuity and in a better style than I looked for."[467:1]

"_St. Andrew's Square, 10th April, 1773._

"To-day news arrived in town, that the Ayr Bank had shut up, and, as many people think, for ever. I hear that the Duke of Buccleuch is on the road. The country will be in prodigious distress for money this term. Sir G. Colebroke's bankruptcy is thought to be the immediate cause of this event.

"Have you seen Macpherson's Homer? It is hard to tell whether the attempt or the execution be worse. I hear he is employed by the booksellers to continue my History. But, in my opinion, of all men of parts, he has the most anti-historical head in the universe.

"Have you seen Sir John Dalrymple? It is strange what a rage is against him, on account of the most commendable action in his life. His collection[467:2] is curious; but introduces no new light into the civil, whatever it may into the biographical and anecdotical history of the times.

"Have you seen 'Alonzo?' Very slovenly versification, some pathetic, but too much resembling 'Douglas.'"[467:3]

We have found Gilbert Stuart deferentially courting Hume's notice of his earlier literary efforts. A few years of popularity as an author, and the command of a periodical work, had in the meantime changed the man's character, by developing all its arrogance, jealousy, conceit, and vindictiveness. He was one of those who indulge in the comfortable consciousness, that any comparison between their own genius and that of any other given person is supremely ludicrous; and as some one said of La Harpe, it might have proved a good speculation to buy him at what he was worth, and sell him at his own estimate of his value. Sick of the praises he heard bestowed on Robertson and the other eminent historians of his age, he thought it his duty to show the world how the lamp of such industrious drudges would grow pale before the lustre of true genius; and thus he favoured the public with some historical efforts, in which the curious reader of the present day, who takes them from forgotten shelves, is somewhat surprised to find how effectually well-turned periods, and a certain audacity of opinion, keep out of view the meagreness of the author's inquiries.

In 1773, Stuart began to edit the _Edinburgh Magazine and Review_. Periodical literature was the proper sphere for exhibiting his powers; which consisted in the ready acquisition of a superficial view of any subject, and a rapid, yet elegant style; occasionally magniloquent, and at other times descriptive or sarcastic. No other periodical work of that day equalled the _Edinburgh Magazine and Review_, in genius and originality. But the editor made it the vehicle of his tyrannical and vindictive spirit; and the purse and person of the proprietor--it might almost be said the peace of society, were endangered by so formidable a weapon remaining in such hands.[468:1]

At this time, the Rev. Robert Henry was publishing his valuable History of Britain, volume by volume. Stuart had vowed that he would crush this work; and the critical columns he concentrated against it, do great credit to his ability as a tactician. Hume was promised the privilege of reviewing the book in _the Magazine_, and probably Stuart thought that to arm him against an interloper in his own province was excellent policy; but when the article was written, and put in proof, it was found not adapted to the editor's purpose. We find him thus writing to a confederate:

David Hume wants to review Henry; but that task is so
precious, that I will undertake it myself. Moses, were he to
ask it as a favour, should not have it: yea, not even the man
after God's own heart. I wish I could transport myself to
London, to review him for the _Monthly_: a fire there and in
the _Critical_, would perfectly annihilate him. Could you do
nothing in the latter? To the former I suppose David Hume has
transcribed the criticism he intended for us. It is precious
and would divert you. I keep a _proof_ of it in my cabinet
for the amusement of friends. This great philosopher begins to
dote.[470:1]

A review of Henry's work _did_ appear in _The Monthly Review_, but from a very different pen. The _proof_, however, which gave Stuart so much amusement, has fortunately been preserved. After giving a favourable analysis of Henry's second volume, it concludes with the following sentences, in many respects remarkable.

The reader will scarcely find in our language, except in the
works of the celebrated Dr. Robertson, any performance that
unites together so perfectly the great points of entertainment
and instruction. It is happy for the inhabitants of this
metropolis, which has naturally a great influence on the
country, that the same persons who can make such a figure in
profane learning, are intrusted with the guidance of the
people in their spiritual concerns, which are of such
superior, and indeed of unspeakable importance. These
illustrious examples, if any thing, must make the infidel
abashed of his vain cavils, and put a stop to that torrent of
vice, profaneness, and immorality, by which the age is so
unhappily distinguished.

This city can justly boast of other signal characters of the
same kind, whom learning and piety, taste and devotion,
philosophy and faith, joined to the severest morals and most
irreproachable conduct, concur to embellish. One in
particular, with the same hand by which he turns over the
sublime pages of Homer and Virgil, Demosthenes and Cicero, is
not ashamed to open with reverence the sacred volumes; and
with the same voice by which, from the pulpit, he strikes vice
with consternation, he deigns to dictate to his pupils the
most useful lessons of rhetoric, poetry, and polite
literature.[470:2]

Hume was an early friend of Benjamin Franklin, whom he was instrumental in introducing to his Parisian friends.[471:1] The celebrated publication of the papers revealing the policy of the ascendency party, and the scene at the council board, of which Franklin so deeply cherished the memory, are thus alluded to in a letter to Smith, of 13th February, 1774:--

"Pray, what strange accounts are these we hear of Franklin's conduct? I am very slow in believing that he has been guilty in the extreme degree that is pretended; though I always knew him to be a very factious man, and faction, next to fanaticism, is of all passions the most destructive of morality. How is it supposed he got possession of these letters? I hear that Wedderburn's treatment of him before the council was most cruel, without being in the least blameable. What a pity!"[471:2]

The following, among the very few letters which Hume appears to have written at this period of his life, is addressed to John Home.

"_St. Andrew's Square, 4th June, 1774._

"DEAR JOHN,--The enclosed came to hand to-day, and, as I take it to be directed to you, I have sent it you. If on opening it you find it otherwise, you may return it to me, that I may find the true owner.

"You have seen, no doubt, the specimen of a Scotch review.[472:1] My first conjecture was that Carlyle was the author; but Dr. Blair has convinced me that it is much more probably the production of your spiritual guide, Tom Hepburn;[472:2] but, whoever be the father, the child has a great deal of salt, and spirit, and humour. I wish he would continue, though at the hazard of my getting a rap over the knuckles from time to time; for I see in this hero the spirit of a Drawcansir, who spares neither friend nor foe. I think I can reckon about twenty people, not including the king, whom he has attacked in this short performance. I hope all his spleen is not exhausted. I should desire my compliments to him, were I not afraid that he would interpret the civility as paying black mail to him. I am, dear John, yours sincerely."[472:3]

The following appears to be the earliest letter in which Hume expresses himself conscious of some unpleasant feelings, systematic of a decay of the physical functions.

HUME _to_ COLONEL EDMONDSTOUNE.

"_Edinburgh, 23d March, 1775._

"CARO GIUSEPPE,--No request can be more obliging than yours; and no party could have been proposed to any place, or with any company, more agreeable to me. But you remember what a plague I was to every body and to myself on my last journey; and you may recollect that I made a vow, in the bitterness of my distress, never more to leave my own house, nor lie out of my own bed. This vow I have religiously kept, except two or three days last autumn, when I went to my brother's; and though I could scarcely there esteem myself from home, I resolved never more to pay them a visit. You have not a bed cool enough for me, which proceeds not from any distemper or disorder, but from a peculiarity of constitution, that has been gradually increasing on me these last twelve years. I am in very good health: but let me tell you, that you express yourself strangely when you say I have been _complaining_. How could you imagine that I could ever complain, even though _fractus illabatur orbis_? I beseech you, know better the people to whom you speak, and the force of the terms you make use of. Miss Keiths desired me to tell you, that some time ago they had a letter from Sir Basil, by which they learn that your request with regard to Maillet's friend, is complied with.

"My compliments to Mrs. Edmondstoune; embrace Jean Jacques in my name. Dear Guidelianus, I am ever yours."[473:1]

Colonel Edmondstoune's answer to these excuses is not a little curious.

DEAR OBSTINATE DAVID,

_Pravum_ et tenacem propositi virum
Non civium ardor _recta_ jubentium
Non vultus instantis _Baronnæ_
Mente quatit _stolida_.

Will nothing move you, you obdurate philosopher? Your reasons
are not worth a straw; and I'll prosecute you for scandalizing
my house. The room next to your last is as cool as any room
ought to be. It looks to the north, and you was put into a
south room, merely because it was thought that the sun's
vivifying ray would be of use to a man that had been worn out
and so much epuisé in France. Besides, you scrub, have I not
seen you basking for hours together in the sun, contemplating
Shellie, and burning with envy at his prowess? and I heard
nothing about your being heated till we came to Killin, and
that was Crichen's doing, to season you for still a hotter
place.[474:1]

HUME _to his Nephew_.[474:2]

"_St. Andrew's Square, 30th August, 1775._

"DEAR DAVY,--Your letter gave me satisfaction, and I approve very much of your course of study. But I think you are unreasonably diffident of yourself with regard to the _copia verborum_: you are not wanting in that particular [consider]ing you as a beginner; and the course you take will tend very much to [produce] greater facility as well as correctness of expression. Stylus est optimus [magis]ter eloquentiæ. These, if not the words, are the sense of Quinctilian, for I cite from memory. You know that the Roman stylus was the same as the pen.

"I had a letter to-day from Mr. Millar,[474:3] who tells me that he expects to see you on the first Monday of November.

"I do not go to Inverara as soon as I proposed: it will be next week before I set out. I think I am the better for jaunting; though in the main I should like better to stay at home.

"My compliments to your mother; I am glad she has heard from Josey; but I wonder what has detained him so long at Paris.

"I fancy you and Jock are very happy at present in your field sports; and your father will not be displeased to see the favourable progress of the harvest. I am, dear Davy, your affectionate uncle."[475:1]

HUME _to_ JOHN HOME.

_St. Andrew's Square, Sept. 20th, 1775._

DEAR JOHN,--Of all the vices of language, the least excusable
is the want of perspicuity; for, as words were instituted by
men, merely for conveying their ideas to each other, the
employing of words without meaning is a palpable abuse, which
departs from the very original purpose and intention of
language. It is also to be observed, that any ambiguity in
expression is next to the having no meaning at all; and is
indeed a species of it; for while the hearer or reader is
perplexed between different meanings, he can assign no
determinate idea to the speaker or writer; and may, on that
account, say with Ovid, "Inopem me copia fecit." For this
reason, all eminent rhetoricians and grammarians, both ancient
and modern, have insisted on perspicuity of language as an
essential quality; without which, all ornaments of diction are
vain and fruitless. Quinctilian carries the matter so far, as
to condemn this expression, _vidi hominem librum legentem_;
because, says he, legentem may construe as well with _librum_
as _hominem_; though one would think that the sense were here
sufficient to prevent all ambiguity. In conformity to this
way of thinking, Vaugelas, the first great grammarian of
France, will not permit that any one have recourse to the
sense, in order to explain the meaning of the words; because,
says he, it is the business of the words to explain the
meaning of the sense--not of the sense to give a determinate
meaning to the words; and this practice is reversing the order
of nature; like the custom of the Romans (he might have added
the Greeks,) in their Saturnalia, who made the slaves the
masters; for you may learn from Lucian that the Greeks
practised the same frolic during the festival of Saturn, whom
they called Χρονος.

Now, to apply, and to come to the use of this principle: I
must observe to you, that your last letter, besides a
continued want of distinctness in the form of the literal
characters, has plainly transgressed the essential rule
above-mentioned of grammar and rhetoric. You say that Coutts
has complained to you of not hearing from me; had you said
either James or Thomas, I could have understood your meaning.
About two months ago, I heard that James complained of me in
this respect; and I wrote to him, though then abroad, making
an apology for my being one of the subscribers of a paper
which gave him some offence. I was afraid he had not received
mine. The letter of Thomas, I conceived to be only a circular
letter, informing me of a change in the firm of the house: and
having answered it a few days ago, by giving him some
directions about disposing of my money, which proved that I
intended to remain a customer to the shop; it happens,
therefore, luckily, that I had obviated all objections to my
conduct on both sides.

In turning over my papers, I find a manuscript journal of the
last rebellion, which is at your service. I hope Mrs. Home is
better, and will be able to execute her journey. Are you to be
in town soon? Yours without ambiguity, circumlocution, or
mental reservation.[476:1]

Hume, though we have found him censuring the conduct of Franklin, was opposed to any attempt to coerce America. "I always thought," says Sir John Pringle, when writing to him, "you were in the wrong, when you supposed these colonies wanted only a pretext to shake off their subjection."[477:1] This subjection he seems to have thought they were entitled to throw off; for he was far more tolerant of the sway of individuals over numbers, which he looked upon as the means of preserving order and civilization, than of the predominance of one territory over another, which he looked upon as subjugation. Unfortunately, few of his opinions on this subject can be better ascertained than by the reflex light of the letters addressed to him, in answer to his remarks. With Strahan, the eminent printer, he carried on an extensive correspondence on political matters, of which the letters on his own side have unfortunately been lost.[477:2] The sentiments which Hume had expressed on the American war, are thus described, by contrast, in the words of that member of Parliament, to whom Franklin addressed his celebrated letter of defiance.

WILLIAM STRAHAN _to_ HUME.

I differ from you _toto cœlo_ with regard to America. I am
entirely for coercive methods with those obstinate madmen; and
why should we despair of success? Why should we suffer the
empire to be so dismembered, without the utmost exertions on
our part? I see nothing so very formidable in this business,
if we become a little more unanimous, and could stop the
mouths of domestic traitors, from whence the evil originated.
Not that I wish to enslave the colonists, or to make them one
jot less happy than ourselves; but I am for keeping them
subordinate to the British legislature; and their trade, in a
reasonable degree, subservient to the interest of the mother
country; an advantage she well deserves; but which she must
inevitably lose, if they are emancipated, as you propose. I am
really surprised you are of a different opinion. Very true,
things look oddly at present; and the dispute hath, hitherto,
been very ill managed; but so we always do at the commencement
of every war. So we did, most remarkably, in the last. It is
perhaps owing to the nature of our government, which permits
not of those sudden and decisive exertions frequently made by
arbitrary princes. But, so soon as the British lion is roused,
we never fail to fetch up our lee-way, as the sailors say. And
so I hope you will find it in this important case.[478:1]

The following letter, which is not, however, written in a spirit of entire earnestness or sobriety, has some reference to his views on the American question.

HUME _to_ BARON MURE.

"_St. David's Street, Oct. 27th, 1775._

"OH! DEAR BARON,--You have thrown me into agonies, and almost into convulsions, by your request. You ask what seems reasonable,--what seems a mere trifle; yet am I so unfit for it, that it is almost impossible for me to comply. You are much fitter yourself. That address, by which you gained immortal honour, was done altogether without my knowledge; I mean that after the suppression of the late rebellion. Here is Lord Home teazing me for an address from the Merse; and I have constantly refused him. Besides, I am an American in my principles, and wish we would let them alone to govern or misgovern themselves, as they think proper: the affair is of no consequence, or of little consequence, to us. If the county of Renfrew think it indispensably necessary for them to interpose in public matters, I wish they would advise the king, first to punish those insolent rascals in London and Middlesex, who daily insult him and the whole legislature, before he thinks of America. Ask him, how he can expect that a form of government will maintain an authority at three thousand miles' distance, when it cannot make itself be respected, or even be treated with common decency, at home. Tell him, that Lord North, though, in appearance, a worthy gentleman, has not a head for these great operations; and that, if fifty thousand men, and twenty millions of money, were intrusted to such a lukewarm coward as Gage, they never could produce any effect. These are objects worthy of the respectable county of Renfrew: not mauling the poor infatuated Americans in the other hemisphere."[479:1]

It has already been said, that Hume appears to have suspected that his nephew, David, was imbibing republican principles. It is well worthy of remark, that he does not appear to have considered the training of his young nephews, in political opinions different from his own, as at all to be deprecated; and David, to whom the following letter is addressed, was boarded with Professor Millar, afterwards author of the "Historical View of the English Government," who had even then shown himself as one of the most powerful antagonists of Hume's constitutional doctrines. It must be regretted that the letter is much mutilated; but enough of it is preserved to show how lightly Hume's political opinions hung on him--how little they possessed the character of a creed--how tolerant he was of any system of politics which bore the air of philosophy, and how curiously he could let his reason vibrate between opinions of the most opposite character in practical politics.

HUME _to his_ NEPHEW.

"_Edinburgh, 8th December, 1775._

"DEAR DAVY,--All your letters, both to me and to your father, have [given] great satisfaction, particularly your last; and, in return, I must give you [the] satisfaction of telling you, that Mr. Millar is very well pleased with you, [-----] no less than you with him. He complains only of one thing, which [is not the] usual complaint of tutors against their pupils; to wit, that he is afraid you [apply too] close, and may hurt your health by too assiduous study. I should not men[tion this] if I had the least apprehension that a hint of this nature would m[ake you] relax too much. But I cannot forbear saying, that every day, fair or foul, [you] ought to use some exercise. Relaxation from [for?] amusement, you may use, [or not,] as you fancy; but that, for health, is absolutely necessary. When I was [of your] age, I was inclined to give in to excesses of the same kind; and I remember [an anecdote] told me by a friend, the present Lord Pitfour. A man was riding, with [great] violence, and running his horse quite out of wind. He stopt a moment to [ask when] he might reach a particular place. In two hours, replied the countryman, [if you] will go slower; in four if you be in such a hurry. Bad health, be[sides other] inconveniencies, is the greatest interrupter to study in the world.

"I cannot but agree with Mr. Millar, that the republican form of government is by far the best. The ancient republics were somewhat ferocious and torn [-----] by bloody factions; but they were still much preferable to the monarchies or [aristocracies] which seem to have been quite intolerable. Modern manners have corrected this abuse; and all the republics in Europe, without exception, are so well governed that one is at a loss to which we should give the preference. But what is this general subject of speculation to our purpose? For, besides that an established government [-----] without the most criminal imputation, be disjointed from any speculation, [-----] is only fitted for a small state; and any attempt towards it can, in our [-----] produce only anarchy, which is the immediate forerunner of despotism [-----] tell us what is that form of a republic which we must aspire to? Or [-----]stion be afterwards decided by the sword. [One] great advantage of a commonwealth over our mixed monarchy, is, that it [would consid]erably abridge our liberty; which is growing to such an extreme as to be incom[patible wi]th all. Such fools are they who perpetually cry out liberty, [and think to] augment it by shaking off the monarchy.

"I have not heard from Josey for some time, which, you may believe, has produced [-----] reflections in some of your friends. But to show you that you are not forgotten [-----] I showed Mr. Millar's letter to your mother. I am afraid, said she, that [-----] some symptoms of a consumption in poor Davy.

"[I a]m far from thinking Mr. Millar's demands in point of money unreas[onable.] On the contrary, I believe that I never laid out money to better purpose.

"[Ha]rrington is an author of genius, but chimerical. No laws, however rigorous, [would ma]ke his Agrarian practicable. And as the people have only a negative, the [-----] would perpetually gain ground upon them. You remember that Montesquieu says, that Harrington establishing his "Oceana" in opposition to the English constitution, is like the blind men who built Chalcedon on the opposite [-----] to the seat of Byzantium. I ask your pardon for not writing to you [sooner,] but beg the continuance of your correspondence. My compliments to [Mr. Millar,] to whom I owe a letter. I am, your affectionate uncle."[482:1]

HUME _to_ JOHN HOME.

"_Edinburgh, 8th February, 1776._

"DEAR TYRTAEUS,--It is a remark of Dr. Swift's, that no man in London ever complained of his being neglected by his friends in the country. Your complaint of me is the more flattering.

"Two posts ago, I received, under a frank of General Fraser's, a pamphlet, entitled _A letter from an officer retired_. It is a very good pamphlet; and I conjecture you to be the author. Sallust makes it a question, whether the writer or the performer of good things has the preference? and he ascribes the greater praise to the latter. It is happy for you, that you may rest your fame on either. I here allude to what you have done for Ferguson.

"But, pray, why do you say, that the post of Boston is like the camp of Pirna? I fancy our troops can be withdrawn thence without any difficulty.

"I make no doubt, since you sound the trumpet for war against the Americans, that you have a plan ready for governing them, after they are subdued: but you will not subdue them; unless they break in pieces among themselves--an event very probable. It is a wonder it has not happened sooner. But no man can foretell how far these frenzies of the people may be carried. Yours," &c.[483:1]

The following letter exhibits a feeling of impatience for the appearance of the long promised "Wealth of Nations." It shows, in discussing some questions in political economy, that, with his usual sagacity, Hume predicted that the loss of British supremacy over America, would not have that dire effect on our commercial prosperity, which had been anticipated.

HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.

"_Edinburgh, 8th Feb. 1776._

"DEAR SMITH,--I am as lazy a correspondent as you, yet my anxiety about you makes me write. By all accounts your book has been printed long ago: yet it has never yet been so much as advertised. What is the reason? If you wait till the fate of America be decided, you may wait long.

"By all accounts, you intend to settle with us this spring: yet we hear no more of it: What is the reason? Your chamber in my house is always unoccupied. I am always at home. I expect you to land here.

"I have been, am, and shall be probably in an indifferent state of health. I weighed myself t' other day, and find I have fallen five complete stones. If you delay much longer I shall probably disappear altogether.

"The Duke of Buccleuch tells me that you are very zealous in American affairs. My notion is that the matter is not so important as is commonly imagined. If I be mistaken, I shall probably correct my error when I see you, or read you. Our navigation and general commerce may suffer more than our manufactures. Should London fall as much in its size as I have done, it will be the better. It is nothing but a hulk of bad and unclean humours. Yours," &c.[484:1]

It is not perhaps uncharitable to suppose, that the following eulogium would have been more warm, had the person it was addressed to not been one of "the barbarians who inhabit the banks of the Thames."

HUME _to_ GIBBON.

_Edinburgh, 18th March, 1776._

DEAR SIR,--As I ran through your volume of history with a
great deal of avidity and impatience, I cannot forbear
discovering somewhat of the same impatience in returning you
thanks for your agreeable present, and expressing the
satisfaction which the performance has given me. Whether I
consider the dignity of your style, the depth of your matter,
or the extensiveness of your learning, I must regard the work
as equally the object of esteem; and I own, that if I had not
previously had the happiness of your personal acquaintance,
such a performance, from an Englishman in our age, would have
given me some surprise. You may smile at this sentiment; but
as it seems to me that your countrymen, for almost a whole
generation, have given themselves up to barbarous and absurd
faction, and have totally neglected all polite letters, I no
longer expected any valuable production ever to come from
them. I know it will give you pleasure (as it did me,) to find
that all the men of letters in this place concur in their
admiration of your work, and in their anxious desire of your
continuing it.

When I heard of your undertaking, (which was some time ago,) I
own I was a little curious to see how you would extricate
yourself from the subject of your two last chapters. I think
you have observed a very prudent temperament; but it was
impossible to treat the subject so as not to give grounds of
suspicion against you, and you may expect that a clamour will
arise. This, if any thing, will retard your success with the
public; for in every other respect your work is calculated to
be popular. But, among many other marks of decline, the
prevalence of superstition in England, prognosticates the fall
of philosophy and decay of taste; and though nobody be more
capable than you to revive them, you will probably find a
struggle in your first advances.

I see you entertain a great doubt with regard to the
authenticity of the poems of Ossian. You are certainly right
in so doing. It is, indeed, strange, that any men of sense
could have imagined it possible, that above twenty thousand
verses, along with numberless historical facts, could have
been preserved by oral tradition during fifty generations, by
the rudest, perhaps, of all European nations; the most
necessitous, the most turbulent, and the most unsettled. Where
a supposition is so contrary to common sense, any positive
evidence of it ought never to be regarded. Men run with great
avidity to give their evidence in favour of what flatters
their passions, and their national prejudices. You are,
therefore, over and above indulgent to us in speaking of the
matter with hesitation.

I must inform you, that we are all very anxious to hear that
you have fully collected the materials for your second volume,
and that you are even considerably advanced in the composition
of it. I speak this more in the name of my friends than in my
own; as I cannot expect to live so long as to see the
publication of it. Your ensuing volume will be more delicate
than the preceding, but I trust in your prudence for
extricating you from the difficulties; and, in all events, you
have courage to despise the clamour of bigots. I am, with
regard, &c.[485:1]

At length appeared the long looked for work, in which the parent of the first elucidations of political economy was to see his own offspring eclipsed; and to see it with pride. One must be familiar with the unenvious friendship which Hume ever bestowed, on the fellow countrymen who joined him in the noble path of philosophical inquiry, to appreciate the genuine satisfaction with which he thus hailed the appearance of "The Wealth of Nations."

HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.

"_Edinburgh, 1st April, 1776._

"EUGE! BELLE! DEAR MR. SMITH,--I am much pleased with your performance; and the perusal of it has taken me from a state of great anxiety. It was a work of so much expectation, by yourself, by your friends, and by the public, that I trembled for its appearance, but am now much relieved. Not but that the reading of it necessarily requires so much attention, and the public is disposed to give so little, that I shall still doubt for some time of its being at first very popular. But it has depth, and solidity, and acuteness, and is so much illustrated by curious facts, that it must at last take the public attention. It is probably much improved by your last abode in London. If you were here at my fireside, I should dispute some of your principles. I cannot think that the rent of farms makes any part of the price of the produce, but that the price is determined altogether by the quantity and the demand.[486:1] It appears to me impossible, that the King of France can take a seignorage of eight per cent upon the coinage. Nobody would bring bullion to the mint; it would be all sent to Holland or England, where it might be coined and sent back to France, for less than two per cent. Accordingly, Necker says, that the French king takes only two per cent of seignorage. But these and a hundred other points are fit only to be discussed in conversation; which, till you tell me the contrary, I still flatter myself with soon. I hope it will be soon; for I am in a very bad state of health, and cannot afford a long delay. I fancy you are acquainted with Mr. Gibbon. I like his performance extremely, and have ventured to tell him, that, had I not been personally acquainted with him, I should never have expected such an excellent work from the pen of an Englishman. It is lamentable to consider how much that nation has declined in literature during our time. I hope he did not take amiss the national reflection.

"All your friends here are in great grief at present, for the death of Baron Mure, which is an irreparable loss to our society. He was among the oldest and best friends I had in the world."[487:1]

In April, 1776, the disease of which Hume subsequently died, had made alarming progress. The little autobiographical sketch, called "my own Life," was finished on the eighteenth of that month; and he there speaks of the rise and progress of his disorder, and of his feelings under the expectation of a speedy termination of his life, in the following terms:--

In spring, 1775, I was struck with a disorder in my bowels,
which at first gave me no alarm, but has since, as I apprehend
it, become mortal and incurable. I now reckon upon a speedy
dissolution. I have suffered very little pain from my
disorder; and what is more strange, have, notwithstanding the
great decline of my person, never suffered a moment's
abatement of my spirits; insomuch, that were I to name the
period of my life which I should most choose to pass over
again, I might be tempted to point to this latter period. I
possess the same ardour as ever in study, and the same gaiety
in company. I consider, besides, that a man of sixty-five, by
dying, cuts off only a few years of infirmities; and though I
see many symptoms of my literary reputation's breaking out at
last with additional lustre, I knew that I could have but few
years to enjoy it. It is difficult to be more detached from
life than I am at present.

It was probably early in the year, and before the disease had made such progress, as to make his friends in general anticipate its fatal conclusion, that Dr. Black wrote the following undated letter on the subject to Smith:--

"I write at present, chiefly to acquaint you with the state of your friend David Hume's health, which is so bad that I am quite melancholy upon it, and as I hear that you intend a visit to this country soon, I wish if possible to hasten your coming, that he may have the comfort of your company so much the sooner. He has been declining several years, and this in a slow and gradual manner, until about a twelvemonth ago, since which the progress of his disorder has been more rapid. One of his distresses has been a sensation of excessive heat, chiefly in the night time, and which was only external, for it occasioned no internal distress, or anxiety, or thirst."

Black then proceeds to describe with more minuteness, than would be either pleasing or instructive to unscientific readers, a series of symptoms from which he infers that the most serious part of his patient's disorder, is a hemorrhage in the upper part of the intestines.[488:1] He continues,--

"His mother, he says, had precisely the same constitution with himself, and died of this very disorder; which has made him give up any hopes of his getting the better of it." He concludes by saying,--

"Do not, however, say much on this subject to any one else; as he does not like to have it spoke of, and has been shy and slow in acquainting me fully with the state of his health."

In preparation for the event, which could not be far distant, he had executed a settlement of his estate, so early as the 4th of January. He left the bulk of his fortune to his brother, or, in the case of his predeceasing him, to his nephew David, burdened in the latter case with special legacies to his other nephews and his nieces. He left his sister £1200. Along with some legacies to a few obscure private friends and to his servants, he left £200 to D'Alembert, and the same sum to Adam Ferguson.[489:1] He appointed Smith his literary executor, in the following terms:[490:1] "To my friend Dr. Adam Smith, late Professor of Moral Philosophy in Glasgow, I leave all my manuscripts without exception, desiring him to publish my 'Dialogues on Natural Religion,' which are comprehended in this present bequest; but to publish no other papers which he suspects not to have been written within these five years, but to destroy them all at his leisure. And I even leave him full power over all my papers, except the Dialogues above mentioned; and though I can trust to that intimate and sincere friendship, which has ever subsisted between us, for his faithful execution of this part of my will, yet, as a small recompense of his pains in correcting and publishing this work, I leave him two hundred pounds, to be paid immediately after the publication of it."

Smith subsequently refused to receive payment of the legacy; and it was the cause of a long friendly discussion with Mr. Home of Ninewells, who, in opposition to his argument, that it was bequeathed as a remuneration for editorial labours, which by a subsequent alteration of the bequest did not require to be performed, urged such pleas as this, "My brother, knowing your liberal way of thinking, laid on you something as an equivalent, not imagining you would refuse a small gratuity from the funds it was to come from, as a testimony of his friendship."[490:2] But he pleaded in vain; and Smith continued to refuse the bequest, with all the firmness of his unmercenary nature.

Previous to his journey to Bath, which has to be presently narrated, Hume appears to have informed Smith of the desire expressed in his will, that he should undertake the publication of the "Dialogues on Natural Religion." The intimation was probably verbal, as it does not form part of any letter among Hume's papers. Elliot was opposed to the publication of this work. Blair pleaded strongly for its suppression; and Smith, who had made up his mind, that he would not edit the work, seems to have desired that the testamentary injunction laid on him might be revoked. Hume, however, before his death, took effectual steps to guard against its suppression.

Thus, after having good-naturedly abstained, for nearly thirty years, from the publication of a work, which might give pain and umbrage to his dearest friends; at the close of life, and when the lapse of time since it was written might have been supposed to render him indifferent to its fate,--because there appeared some danger of its final suppression, he took decided and well pondered steps to avert from it this fate. Such was the character of the man!

HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.

"_London, 3d May, 1776._

"MY DEAR FRIEND,--I send you enclosed an ostensible letter, conformably to your desire. I think, however, your scruples groundless. Was Mallet any wise hurt by his publication of Lord Bolingbroke? He received an office afterwards from the present king and Lord Bute, the most prudish men in the world; and he always justified himself by his sacred regard to the will of a dead friend. At the same time, I own that your scruples have a specious appearance. But my opinion is, that if upon my death you determine never to publish these papers, you should leave them sealed up with my brother and family, with some inscription that you reserve to yourself the power of reclaiming them whenever you think proper. If I live a few years longer, I shall publish them myself. I consider an observation of Rochefoucault, that a wind, though it extinguishes a candle, blows up a fire.

"You may be surprised to hear me talk of living years, considering the state you saw me in, and the sentiments which both I and all my friends at Edinburgh entertained on that subject. But though I cannot come up entirely to the sanguine notions of our friend John, I find myself very much recovered on the road, and I hope Bath waters and farther journeys, may effect my cure.

"By the little company I have seen, I find the town very full of your book, which meets with general approbation. Many people think particular points disputable; but this you certainly expected. I am glad that I am one of the number; as these points will be the subject of future conversation between us. I set out for Bath, I believe, on Monday, by Sir John Pringle's directions, who says, that he sees nothing to be apprehended in my case. If you write to me (hem! hem!) I say if you write to me, send your letter under cover to Mr. Strahan, who will have my direction."[492:1]

The "ostensible letter" which was to serve as Smith's justification, if he should decline to follow the injunctions of the will, is as follows:--

"_London, 3d May, 1776._

"MY DEAR SIR,--After reflecting more maturely on that article of my will by which I left you the disposal of all my papers, with a request that you should publish my 'Dialogues concerning Natural Religion,' I have become sensible that, both on account of the nature of the work, and of your situation, it may be improper to hurry on that publication. I therefore take the present opportunity of qualifying that friendly request. I am content to leave it entirely to your discretion, at what time you will publish that piece, or whether you will publish it at all.

"You will find among my papers a very inoffensive piece, called "my own Life," which I composed a few days before I left Edinburgh; when I thought, as did all my friends, that my life was despaired of. There can be no objection, that the small piece should be sent to Messrs. Strahan and Cadell, and the proprietors of my other works, to be prefixed to any future edition of them."[493:1]

Smith did not absolutely refuse to edit the "Dialogues," but Hume saw pretty clearly that it was a task that would not be performed by him. That he was correct in this supposition, appears by a letter from Smith to Strahan after Hume's death, where he says:

"I once had persuaded him to leave it entirely to my discretion either to publish them at what time I thought proper, or not to publish them at all. Had he continued of this mind, the manuscript should have been most carefully preserved, and upon my decease restored to his family; but it never should have been published in my lifetime. When you have read it, you will perhaps think it not unreasonable to consult some prudent friend about what you ought to do."[494:1]

By a codicil to his will, dated 7th August, he thus altered the arrangement referred to in these letters. "In my later will and disposition, I made some destinations with regard to my manuscripts: All these I now retract, and leave my manuscripts to the care of Mr. William Strahan of London, member of Parliament, trusting to the friendship that has long subsisted between us, for his careful and faithful execution of my intentions. I desire that my 'Dialogues concerning Natural Religion' may be printed and published, any time within two years after my death." After making the bequest to John Home which is mentioned farther on, leaving to Blair, Smith, Home, and Edmondstoune, "all of them persons very dear to me, and whose affection to me I know by repeated proofs to have been mutual," each a copy of the new edition of his works, and to Miss Ord, ten guineas to buy a ring, "as a memorial of his friendship and attachment to so amiable and accomplished a person," the codicil is signed. There is then a new paragraph appended as follows:

"I do ordain that if my 'Dialogues,' from whatever cause, be not published within two years and a half after my death, as also the account of my life, the property shall return to my nephew, David, whose duty in publishing them, as the last request of his uncle, must be approved of by all the world."[494:2]

Both Hume and Smith seem to have thought that Strahan would undertake the publication as a mere matter of business. But this book, like the little hunchback in the "Arabian Nights," was a commodity which every one seemed anxious to transfer to his neighbour. Strahan declined to undertake the task, and the "Dialogues" did not appear until 1779, when they were published by their author's nephew.

Smith cheerfully agreed to undertake the superintendance of the new edition of his friend's works, then at press. They appear to have been all in a state of very finished preparation for the press, and an edition of the "Inquiries" and the miscellaneous essays was published in 1777, from a copy in which the author had completed that removal of passages of a democratic tendency, which has been so frequently alluded to.

By the entreaties of several friends, who believed that travelling might have a favourable influence on his health, Hume undertook a journey to London towards the end of April. At Morpeth he met with Adam Smith and John Home, on their way from London, to visit him in Edinburgh, in consequence of a letter which the former had received from Ferguson, who says, "David, I am afraid, loses ground. He is cheerful and in good spirits as usual; but I confess that my hopes, from the effects of the turn of the season towards spring, have very much abated."

Smith proceeded to Edinburgh, but Home went back to London with his friend, and fortunately preserved a diary of the journey, so very interesting, and containing so lively a picture of Hume's state of mind and habits, that, though already published,[495:1] the reader would not excuse its omission on this occasion.

_Note by_ MR. JOHN HOME.

Soon after Mr. Home received the letter from Dr. Ferguson, he
left London, and set out for Scotland with Mr. Adam Smith.
They came to Morpeth on the 23d of April, 1776, and would have
passed Mr. David Hume, if they had not seen his servant,
Colin, standing at the gate of an inn. Mr. Home thinks that
his friend, Mr. David Hume, is much better than he expected to
find him. His spirits are astonishing: he talks of his
illness, of his death, as matters of no moment, and gives an
account of what passed between him and his physicians since
his illness began, with his usual wit, or with more wit than
usual.

He acquainted Mr. Adam Smith and me, that Dr. Black had not
concealed the opinion he had of the desperateness of his
condition, and was rather averse to his setting out. "Have you
no reason against it," said David, "but an apprehension that
it may make me die sooner?--that is no reason at all." I never
saw him more cheerful, or in more perfect possession of all
his faculties, his memory, his understanding, his wit. It is
agreed that Smith shall go on to Scotland, and that I should
proceed to Bath with David. We are to travel one stage before
dinner, and one after dinner. Colin tells me that he thinks
Mr. Hume better than when he left Edinburgh. We had a fine
evening as we went from Morpeth to Newcastle. David seeing a
pair of pistols in the chaise, said, that as he had very
little at stake, he would indulge me in my humour of fighting
the highwaymen. Whilst supper was getting ready at the inn,
Mr. Hume and I played an hour at picquet. Mr. David was very
keen about his card-playing.

_Newcastle, Wednesday, 24th April._

Mr. Hume not quite so well in the morning--says, that he had
set out merely to please his friends; that he would go on to
please them; that Ferguson and Andrew Stuart, (about whom we
had been talking,) were answerable for shortening his life one
week a-piece; for, says he, you will allow Xenophon to be good
authority; and he lays it down, that suppose a man is dying,
nobody has a right to kill him. He set out in this vein, and
continued all the stage in his cheerful and talking humour. It
was a fine day, and we went on to Durham--from that to
Darlington, where we passed the night.