Chapter XVII: 1771-1776. Æt. 60-65 (3)

In the evening Mr. Hume thinks himself more easy and light,
than he has been any time for three months. In the course of
our conversation we touched upon the national affairs. He
still maintains, that the national debt must be the ruin of
Britain; and laments that the two most civilized nations, the
English and French, should be on the decline; and the
barbarians, the Goths and Vandals of Germany and Russia,
should be rising in power and renown. The French king, he
says, has ruined the state by recalling the parliaments. Mr.
Hume thinks that there is only one man in France fit to be
minister, (the Archbishop of Toulouse,) of the family of
Brienne. He told me some curious anecdotes with regard to this
prelate; that he composed and corrected without writing; that
Mr. Hume had heard him repeat an elegant oration of an hour
and a quarter in length, which he had never written. Mr. Hume,
talking with the Princess Beauvais about French policy, said
that he knew but one man in France capable of restoring its
greatness; the lady said she knew one too, and wished to hear
if it was the same. They accordingly named each their man, and
it was this prelate.[497:1]

_Thursday, 25th._

Left Darlington about nine o'clock, and came to Northallerton.
The same delightful weather. A shower fell that laid the dust,
and made our journey to Boroughbridge more pleasant. Mr. Hume
continues very easy, and has a tolerable appetite; tastes
nothing liquid but water, and sups upon an egg. He assured me,
that he never possessed his faculties more perfectly; that he
never was more sensible of the beauties of any classic author
than he was at present, nor loved more to read. When I am not
in the room with him he reads continually. The post-boys can
scarcely be persuaded to drive only five miles an hour, and
their horses are of the same way of thinking! The other
travellers, as they pass, look into the chaise, and laugh at
our slow pace. This evening the post-boy from Northallerton,
who had required a good deal of threatening to make him drive
as slow as we desired, had no sooner taken his departure to go
home, than he set off at full speed. "_Pour se dédommager_,"
said David.

_Friday, 26th, Boroughbridge._

Mr. Hume this morning not quite so well. He observes, and I
see it, that he has a good day and a bad one. His illness is
an internal hemorrhage, which has been wasting him for a long
time. He is so thin that he chooses to have a cushion under
him when he sits upon an ordinary chair. He told me to-day,
that if Louis XV. had died in the time of the regency, the
whole French nation were determined to bring back the King of
Spain to be King of France,--so zealous were they for
preserving the line of succession. This evening Mr. Hume not
quite so well, and goes to bed at a more early hour than he
used to do.

_Ferrybridge, Sunday, 28th._

Mr. Hume much better this morning. He told me, that the French
nation had no great opinion of Cardinal Fleury; that the
English had extolled him, in opposition to their own minister
Sir Robert Walpole; but that Fleury was a little genius, and a
cheat. Lord Marischal acquainted Mr. Hume with a piece of
knavery which his lordship said nobody but a Frenchman and a
priest could have been guilty of. The French ambassador at
Madrid came to Lord Marischal one day, and told him, that he
had a letter from the French minister at Petersburgh,
acquainting him that General Keith was not pleased with his
situation in Russia, and wished to return to the Spanish
service, (where he had formerly been;) that it would be proper
for Lord Marischal to apply to the court of Spain. Lord
Marischal said nothing could be more agreeable to him than to
have his brother in the same country with him; but that, as he
had heard nothing from himself, he could not make any
application in his name. The French minister still urged him
to write to the Spanish minister, but in vain. When the
brothers met, several years after, they explained this matter.
Keith had never any intention of coming into the Spanish
service again; and if Lord Marischal had applied to the court
of Spain, measures were taken to intercept the letter, and
send it to the court of Russia. General Keith, who commanded
the Russian army in the field against the Swedes, would have
been arrested, and sent to Siberia; and the moment he had left
the army, the Swedes were to attack the Russians. Mr. Hume
told me, talking of Fleury, that Monsieur Trudent,[499:1] who
was his eléve, acquainted him with an anecdote of that
minister and the late French king, which he, Mr. Hume,
believes Trudent had never ventured to tell to any body but
him; and he (David) had never told it to any body but me. Now,
since Fleury, Trudent, and Lewis, are all dead, it may be
told. Trudent took the liberty of observing to Fleury, that
the king should be advised to apply a little more to business,
and take some charge of his own affairs. Fleury, the first
time Trudent spoke to him upon this subject, made him no
answer; but upon his speaking again on the same subject, he
told him, that he had entreated the king to be a man of
business, and assured him that the French did not like an
inactive prince; that in former times, there had been a race
of indolent princes who did nothing at all, and were called
_Les Rois Fainéants_; that one of them had been put into a
convent. The king made no reply; but some time afterwards,
when Fleury resumed the subject, the king asked him, whether
or no the prince that was put into the convent had a good
pension allowed him?[499:2]

Mr. Hume this day told me, that he had bought a piece of
ground; and when I seemed surprised that I had never heard of
it, he said it was in the New Church-yard, on the Calton Hill,
for a burying-place; that he meant to have a small monument
erected, not to exceed in expense one hundred pounds; that the
inscription should be

DAVID HUME.

I desired him to change the discourse. He did so; but seemed
surprised at my uneasiness, which he said was very
nonsensical. I think he is gaining ground; but he laughs at
me, and says it is impossible; that the year ('76,) sooner or
later, he takes his departure. He is willing to go to Bath, or
travel during the summer through England, and return to
Scotland to die at home; but that Sir John Pringle, and the
whole faculty, would find it very difficult to boat him,
(formerly an usual phrase in Scotland for going abroad, that
is, out of the island, for health.) This day we travelled by
his desire three stages, and arrived with great ease at
Grantham.

_Monday, 29th._

From the treatment Mr. Hume met with in France, 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, and called themselves Whigs,
who, he said, were determined not to suffer truth to be told
in Britain. Amongst many instances of this, he told me one
which was new to me. The Duke of Bedford, (who afterwards
conceived a great affection for Mr. Hume,) by the suggestions
of some of his party friends, ordered his son, Lord Tavistock,
not to read Mr. Hume's History of England; but the young man
was prevailed upon by one of his companions (Mr. Crawford of
Errol) to disobey the command. He read the History, and was
extremely pleased with it.

Mr. Hume told me, that the Duke de Choiseul, at the time Lord
Hertford was in France, expressed the greatest inclination for
peace, and a good correspondence between France and Britain.
He assured Lord Hertford, that if the court of Britain would
relinquish Falkland Island, he would undertake to procure from
the court of Spain the payment of the Manilla ransom. Lord
Hertford communicated the proposal to Mr. Grenville, who
slighted it. Lord Hertford told Mr. Hume the same day an
extraordinary instance of the violence of faction. Towards the
end of Queen Anne's reign, when the Whig ministers were turned
out of all their places at home, and the Duke of Marlborough
still continued in the command of the army abroad, the
discarded ministers met, and wrote a letter, which was signed
by Lord Somers, Lord Townshend, Lord Sunderland, and Sir
Robert Walpole, desiring the duke to bring over the troops he
could depend on, and that they would seize the queen's person,
and proclaim the Elector of Hanover Regent. The Duke of
Marlborough answered the letter, and said it was madness to
think of such a thing. Mr. Horace Walpole, Sir R. Walpole's
youngest son, confirmed the truth of this anecdote, which he
had heard his father repeat often and often; and Mr. Walpole
allowed Mr. Hume to quote him as his authority, and make what
use he pleased of it. When George I. came to England, he
hesitated whether to make a Whig or a Tory administration; but
the German minister, Bernstorf, determined him to take the
side of the Whigs, who had made a purse of thirty thousand
guineas, and given it to this German. George I. was of a
moderate and gentle temper.--He regretted all his life, that
he had given way to the violence of the Whigs in the beginning
of his reign. Whenever any difficulty occurred in parliament,
he used to blame the impeachment of the Tories,--"Ce diable de
impeachment," as he called it.

The Whigs, in the end of Queen Anne's reign, bribed the
Emperor's ministers, not to consent to the peace, and to send
over Prince Eugene with proposals to continue the war.

This anecdote from Lord Bath. Another anecdote Mr. Hume
mentioned, but distrusted the authority, for it was David
Mallet who told Mr. Hume, that he had evidence in his custody
of a design to assassinate Lord Oxford.

Prior, after the accession, was reduced to such poverty by the
persecution he met with, that he was obliged to publish his
works by subscription. Lord Bathurst told Mr. Hume, that he
was with Prior reading the pieces that were to be published,
and he thought there was not enough to make two small volumes.
He asked Prior if he had no more poems? He said, No more that
he thought good enough.--"What is that," said Bathurst,
pointing to a roll of paper. "A trifle," said Prior, "that I
wrote in three weeks, not worthy of your attention or that of
the public." Lord Bathurst desired to see it. This neglected
piece was _Alma_.

_Tuesday, 30th._

Last night, when Mr. Hume was going to bed, he complained of
cold. One part of his malady had been a continual heat, so
that he could not endure a soft or warm bed, and lay in the
night with a single sheet upon him; he desired to have an
additional covering. Colin observed to him, that he thought it
a good symptom. Mr. Hume said he thought so too, for it was a
good thing to be like other people. This morning he is
wonderfully well; which is visible in his countenance and
colour, and even the firmness of his step. Talking of the
state of the nation, which he continually laments, he
mentioned an anecdote of the former war. He was at Turin with
General Sinclair, after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, and,
considering the superiority which the French arms had gained,
he could not conceive why France granted such good terms to
Britain. He desired General Sinclair to touch upon that
subject with the King of Sardinia. That prince, who was very
familiar with the General, said he was at a loss to give any
account of that matter; but, many years after, when Hume was
minister in France, and lived in great intimacy with Monsieur
Puysieux, Secretary of State, who had negociated the peace of
Aix, Mr. Hume asked him the reason of the conduct of France at
that time? Puysieux told him, that it was the king's aversion
to war; that he knew more of it than any man alive, for, the
year before the peace, he was ordered by the king to propose
pretty near the same terms. He remonstrated against making the
offer; said that at least the proposal should come from
England; and that there was always some advantage to be gained
by receiving, rather than propounding terms. The king was
impatient, and obliged Puysieux to write the letter, (which
General Ligonier carried,) with those terms which next year
were agreed to by the British court. Mr. John Home said he
knew that the King of France promoted the peace of Paris from
the aversion he had to war; and the peace was made at a time
when it seemed impossible for Britain to carry on a war of
such extent, and retain her scattered conquests. Mr. Hume
mentioned another singular anecdote concerning the beginning
of the last war. When a squadron of the English fleet attacked
and took two French men of war, the Alcide and the Lys, Louis
XV. was so averse to war, that he would have pocketed the
insult; and Madame Pompadour said it was better to put up with
the affront, than to go to war without any object but the
point of honour. It is known, that neither the king nor the
ministers of England wished for war. The French king abhorred
the thought of war!--What then was the cause? Chiefly the fear
of the popular clamour, and of the opposition, in the Duke of
Newcastle's mind. Mr. Hume thinks Lord North no great
minister, but does not see a better; cannot give any reason
for the incapacity and want of genius, civil and military,
which marks this period. He looks upon the country as on the
verge of decline. His fears seem rather too great, and things
are not quite so bad as he apprehends; but certainly the first
show of statesmen, generals, and admirals, is, without
comparison, the worst that has been seen in this country. I
said to Mr. Hume, that I thought the great consideration to be
acquired by speaking in Parliament, was the cause of that want
of every other quality in men of rank: they do speak readily,
but there are many orators who can neither judge nor act well.

_Wednesday, 31st April._

Arrived in London, where we saw Sir John Pringle, who thought
Mr. Hume much better than he expected to see him, and in no
immediate danger. We staid a few days in London, and then set
out for Bath.

In travelling from London to Bath, we had occasion frequently
to make our observations on the passengers whom we met, and on
those who passed us, as every carriage continued to do.
Nothing occurred worthy the writing down, except Mr. David's
plan of managing his kingdom, in case Ferguson and I had been
princes of the adjacent states. He knew very well, he said,
(having often disputed the point with us,) the great opinion
we had of military virtues as essential to every state; that
from these sentiments rooted in us, he was certain he would be
attacked and interrupted in his projects of cultivating,
improving, and civilizing mankind by the arts of peace; that
he comforted himself with reflecting, that from our want of
economy and order in our affairs, we should be continually in
want of money; whilst he would have his finances in excellent
condition, his magazines well filled, and naval stores in
abundance; but that his final stroke of policy, upon which he
depended, was to give one of us a large subsidy to fall upon
the other, which would infallibly secure to him peace and
quiet, and after a long war, would probably terminate in his
being master of all the three kingdoms. At this sally, so like
David's manner of playing with his friends, I fell into a fit
of laughing, in which David joined; and the people that passed
us certainly thought we were very merry travellers.

We have the following account from his own pen of his sojourn at Bath.

HUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.

"_Bath, 13th May, 1776._

"MY DEAR DOCTOR,--You have frequently heard me complain of my physical friends, that they allowed me to die in the midst of them without so much as giving a Greek name to my disorder: a consolation which was the least I had reason to expect from them. Dr. Black, hearing this complaint, told me that I should be satisfied in that particular, and that my disorder was a hemorrhage, a word which it was easy to decompose into αιμος[504:1] and ρηγνυμι. But Sir John Pringle says, that I have no hemorrhage, but a spincture in the colon, which it will be easy to cure. This disorder, as it both contained two Greek appellations and was remediable, I was much inclined to prefer; when, behold! Dr. Gustard tells me that he sees no symptoms of the former disorder, and as to the latter, he never met with it and scarcely ever heard of it. He assures me that my case is the most common of all Bath cases, to wit, a bilious complaint, which the waters scarcely ever fail of curing: and he never had a patient of whose recovery he had better hopes.

"Indeed the waters, in the short trial which I have made of them, (for I have been here only four days,) seem to agree very well with me; and two days ago I found myself so well, that, for the first time, I began to entertain hopes of a reprieve. Yesterday I was not so well, from a misunderstanding in new lodgings with regard to my bedding. My whimsicalness in this particular surprises Dr. Gustard, and he knows not what to make of it. By the by, this Dr. Gustard is an excellent kind of man, very friendly, and I believe very intelligent. He assures me, as do several others, that the summer is the best time for Bath waters: and if they continue to agree with me I shall probably pass here that season. I promised to General Conway, and Lady Aylesbury, that if I had recovered so much health as to venture myself in company, I should pass some weeks of the autumn at Park place. This is the only retardment I can foresee to my return to Scotland before winter. My wishes carry me thither; though the grievous loss we have suffered in friends makes the abode in that country less pleasing to my fancy than formerly.

"You must have heard of the agreeable surprise which John Home put upon me. We travelled up to London very cheerfully together, and thence to this place, where we found Mrs. Home almost quite recovered. Never was there a more friendly action, nor better placed; for what between conversation and gaming, (not to mention sometimes squabbling,) I did not pass a languid moment; and his company I am certain was the chief cause why my journey had so good an effect: of which, however, I suppose he has given too sanguine accounts, as is usual with him.[505:1]

"Be so good as to read this letter to Dr. Black and to Mr. Ferguson. When I write to one, I suppose myself writing to all my friends: and I also wish to comprehend the Principal in the number. Pray tell him that Mrs. Macauley is settled in Bath, and though her muse seems now to be mute, she is, if not a more illustrious, yet a more fortunate historian than either of us. There is one Dr. Wilson, a man zealous for liberty, who has made her a free and full present of a house of £2000 value, has adopted her daughter by all the rites of Roman jurisprudence, and intends to leave her all his fortune, which is considerable.

"Two ladies of my acquaintance have laid a scheme of bringing Lady Huntingdon and me together, for her or my conversion. I wish I may have spirits to humour this folly."[506:1]

On 10th June, Strahan wrote to Adam Smith, to say that he finds in a letter from Sir John Pringle, giving an account of Hume's health, "that all the good symptoms that attended his first trial of the Bath waters are now vanished. His distemper has returned with its usual violence, so he intends to leave that place and try Buxton."[506:2] He seems not to have attempted this change, but returning straight from Bath, he sent, on the way, invitations to a party of his friends to meet him at dinner. The note addressed to Dr. Blair is as follows:

"Mr. John Hume,[506:3] alias Home, alias The Home, alias the late Lord Conservator, alias the late minister of the gospel at Athelstaneford, has calculated matters so as to arrive infallibly with his friend in St. David's Street, on Wednesday evening. He has asked several of Dr. Blair's friends to dine with him there on Thursday, being the 4th of July, and begs the favour of the Doctor to make one of the number."[507:1]

Thus did this knot of men, united in friendship by the greatness of their talents, and their superiority to all things small and mean, meet for the last time round the social board, to bid, as it were, a farewell to him who had been the chief ornament and distinction of their circle. The eyes of these affectionate friends sedulously and anxiously watched the expiring flame--their pens have recorded the last scenes of its existence, and leave to the ordinary biographer only the task of embodying their statements in deferential silence. Nothing, therefore, remains, but to put together, along with the few remaining letters by Hume himself, the accounts furnished us by those who had the best means of knowing the manner in which he spent the last few days of his life.

The following is his last letter to John Home.

"_Edinburgh, 6th August, 1776._

"MY DEAR JOHN,--I shall begin with telling you the only piece of good news of the family, which is, that my nephew, in no more than two days that he has staid here, has recovered so surprisingly, that he is scarcely knowable, or rather is perfectly knowable, for he was not so on his first arrival.[508:1] Such are the advantages of youth! His uncle declines, if not with so great rapidity, yet pretty sensibly. Sunday, ill; half of yesterday the same; easy at present; prepared to suffer a little to-morrow; perhaps less the day after. Dr. Black says, I shall not die of a dropsy, as I imagined, but of inanition and weakness. He cannot, however, fix, with any probability, the time, otherwise he would frankly tell me.

"Poor Edmondstoune and I parted to-day, with a plentiful effusion of tears; all those _Belzebubians_[508:2] have not hearts of iron. I hope you met with every thing well at Foggo, and receive nothing but good news from Buxton. In spite of Dr. Black's caution, I venture to foretel that I shall be yours cordially and sincerely till the month of October next."[508:3]

Next in date is the following affectionate and considerate letter to his nephew.

"_Edinburgh, 15th August, 1776._

"DEAR DAVY,--You need not doubt but your company, as well as your father's, would have been very agreeable to me, especially at present, for the consolation of your company; but I see the immediate inconveniences that attend it. You cannot be well spared from Josey, whose state of health, I am sorry to find, is still somewhat precarious; and there is no immediate call for your being here. For besides that you would but pass a melancholy time with me, however your affection might cover it and relieve it, I am weakening very gradually, and am not threatened with any immediate incident. I shall probably have more warning, in which case I shall not fail to summon you; and I shall never die in satisfaction without embracing you. I doubt not but my name would have procured you friends and credit, in the course of your life, especially if my brother had allowed you to carry it, for who will know it in the present disguise? But as he is totally obstinate on this head, I believe we had better let him alone. I have frequently told him, that it is lucky for him he sees few things in a wrong light, for where he does he is totally incurable. I am very much at my ease to-day. I beg my compliments to all your family. Your affectionate uncle."[509:1]

Of the manner in which he conducted himself when he had come near to the end of his days, Adam Smith tells us:--

His cheerfulness was so great, and his conversation and
amusements run so much in their usual strain, that,
notwithstanding all bad symptoms, many people could not
believe he was dying. "I shall tell your friend, Colonel
Edmondstoune," said Dr. Dundas to him one day, "that I left
you much better, and in a fair way of recovery." "Doctor,"
said he, "as I believe you would not choose to tell any thing
but the truth, you had better tell him, that I am dying as
fast as my enemies, if I have any, could wish, and as easily
and cheerfully as my best friends could desire." Colonel
Edmondstoune soon afterwards came to see him, and take leave
of him; and on his way home, he could not forbear writing him
a letter, bidding him once more an eternal adieu, and applying
to him, as to a dying man, the beautiful French verses in
which the Abbé Chaulieu, in expectation of his own death,
laments his approaching separation from his friend, the
Marquis de la Fare.[510:1] Mr. Hume's magnanimity and firmness
were such, that his most affectionate friends knew that they
hazarded nothing in talking or writing to him as to a dying
man, and that so far from being hurt by this frankness, he was
rather pleased and flattered by it. I happened to come into
his room while he was reading this letter, which he had just
received, and which he immediately showed me. I told him, that
though I was sensible how very much he was weakened, and that
appearances were in many respects very bad, yet his
cheerfulness was still so great, the spirit of life seemed
still to be so very strong in him, that I could not help
entertaining some faint hopes. He answered, "Your hopes are
groundless. An habitual diarrhœa of more than a year's
standing, would be a very bad disease at any age: at my age it
is a mortal one. When I lie down in the evening, I feel myself
weaker than when I rose in the morning; and when I rise in the
morning, weaker than when I lay down in the evening. I am
sensible, besides, that some of my vital parts are affected,
so that I must soon die." "Well," said I, "if it must be so,
you have at least the satisfaction of leaving all your
friends, your brother's family in particular, in great
prosperity." He said that he felt that satisfaction so
sensibly, that when he was reading, a few days before,
Lucian's Dialogues of the Dead, among all the excuses which
are alleged to Charon for not entering readily into his boat,
he could not find one that fitted him; he had no house to
finish, he had no daughter to provide for, he had no enemies
upon whom he wished to revenge himself. "I could not well
imagine," said he, "what excuse I could make to Charon in
order to obtain a little delay. I have done every thing of
consequence which I ever meant to do; and I could at no time
expect to leave my relations and friends in a better situation
than that in which I am now likely to leave them. I therefore
have all reason to die contented." He then diverted himself
with inventing several jocular excuses, which he supposed he
might make to Charon, and with imagining the very surly
answers which it might suit the character of Charon to return
to them. "Upon further consideration," said he, "I thought I
might say to him, 'Good Charon, I have been correcting my
works for a new edition. Allow me a little time, that I may
see how the public receives the alterations.' But Charon would
answer, 'When you have seen the effect of these, you will be
for making other alterations. There will be no end of such
excuses; so, honest friend, please step into the boat.' But I
might still urge, 'Have a little patience, good Charon; I have
been endeavouring to open the eyes of the public. If I live a
few years longer, I may have the satisfaction of seeing the
downfal of some of the prevailing systems of superstition.'
But Charon would then lose all temper and decency. 'You
loitering rogue, that will not happen these many hundred
years. Do you fancy I will grant you a lease for so long a
term? Get into the boat this instant, you lazy loitering
rogue.'"

But, though Mr. Hume always talked of his approaching
dissolution with great cheerfulness, he never affected to make
any parade of his magnanimity. He never mentioned the subject
but when the conversation naturally led to it, and never dwelt
longer upon it than the course of the conversation happened to
require.[512:1]

How much his mind continued to be occupied with all that it had taken interest in, in the days of his health and enjoyment, the following letter, written five days before his death, will show:--

HUME _to the_ COMTESSE DE BOUFFLERS.

"_Edinburgh, 20th of August, 1776._

"THOUGH I am certainly within a few weeks, dear madam, and, perhaps, within a few days of my own death, I could not forbear being struck with the death of the Prince of Conti--so great a loss in every particular. My reflection carried me immediately to your situation in this melancholy incident. What a difference to you in your whole plan of life! Pray write me some particulars; but in such terms that you need not care, in case of decease, into whose hands your letter may fall.

"My distemper is a diarrhœa, or disorder in my bowels, which has been gradually undermining me these two years; but, within these six months, has been visibly hastening me to my end. I see death approach gradually, without any anxiety or regret. I salute you, with great affection and regard, for the last time."[514:1]

Smith, proceeding with his narrative, says, "He had now become so very weak, that the company of his most intimate friends fatigued him; for his cheerfulness was still so great, his complaisance and social disposition were still so entire, that when any friend was with him, he could not help talking more, and with greater exertion, than suited the weakness of his body. At his own desire, therefore, I agreed to leave Edinburgh, where I was staying, partly upon his account, and returned to my mother's house here, at Kirkaldy, upon condition that he would send for me whenever he wished to see me; the physician who saw him most frequently, Dr. Black, undertaking, in the mean time, to write me, occasionally, an account of the state of his health.

"On the 22d of August, the Doctor wrote me the following letter:--

"'Since my last, Mr. Hume has passed his time pretty easily, but is much weaker. He sits up, goes down stairs once a-day, and amuses himself with reading, but seldom sees any body. He finds that even the conversation of his most intimate friends fatigues and oppresses him; and it is happy that he does not need it, for he is quite free from anxiety, impatience, or low spirits, and passes his time very well with the assistance of amusing books.'

"I received, the day after, a letter from Mr. Hume himself, of which the following is an extract.

'_Edinburgh 23d August, 1776._

'MY DEAREST FRIEND,--I am obliged to make use of my nephew's hand in writing to you, as I do not rise to-day. . . . . . . .

'I go very fast to decline, and last night had a small fever, which I hoped might put a quicker period to this tedious illness; but, unluckily, it has, in a great measure, gone off. I cannot submit to your coming over here on my account, as it is possible for me to see you so small a part of the day; but Doctor Black can better inform you concerning the degree of strength which may, from time to time, remain with me. Adieu,' &c.[515:1]

"Three days after I received the following letter from Doctor Black:--

'_Edinburgh, Monday, 26th August, 1776._

'DEAR SIR,--Yesterday, about four o'clock, afternoon, Mr. Hume
expired. The near approach of his death became evident in the
night between Thursday and Friday, when his disease became
excessive, and soon weakened him so much that he could no
longer rise out of his bed. He continued, to the last,
perfectly sensible, and free from much pain or feelings of
distress. He never dropped the smallest expression of
impatience; but, when he had occasion to speak to the people
about him, always did it with affection and tenderness. I
thought it improper to write to you to bring you over,
especially as I heard that he had dictated a letter to you
desiring you not to come. When he became very weak, it cost
him an effort to speak; and he died in such a happy composure
of mind that nothing could exceed it.'"

The world is fortunately in possession of an account of this event, by another scientific man of no less eminence, the great Dr. Cullen. From a letter which he wrote to Dr. Hunter, on 17th September, the following extracts are made:

You desire an account of Mr. Hume's last days, and I give it
you with some pleasure; for, though I could not look upon him
in his illness without much concern, yet the tranquillity and
pleasantry which he constantly discovered did, even then, give
me satisfaction; and, now that the curtain is dropped, allows
me indulge the less alloyed reflection. It was truly an
example "des grands hommes qui sont morts en
plaisantant;"[516:1] and to me, who have been so often shocked
with the horrors of the superstitious on such occasions, the
reflexion on such a death is truly agreeable. For many weeks
before his death, he was very sensible of his gradual decay;
and his answer to inquiries after his health was, several
times, that he was going as fast as his enemies could wish,
and as easily as his friends could desire. He was not,
however, without a frequent recurrence of pain and uneasiness;
but he passed most part of the day in his drawing-room,
admitted the visits of his friends, and with his usual spirit
conversed with them upon literature, politics, or whatever
else was accidentally started. In conversation he seemed to be
perfectly at ease, and to the last abounded with that
pleasantry, and those curious and entertaining anecdotes,
which ever distinguished him. This, however, I always
considered rather as an effort to be agreeable, and he at
length acknowledged that it became too much for his strength.
For a few days before his death, he became more averse to
receive visits; speaking became more and more difficult for
him; and, for twelve hours before his death, his speech failed
altogether. His senses and judgment did not fail till the last
hour of his life. He constantly discovered a strong
sensibility to the attention and care of his friends, and,
amidst great uneasiness and languor, never betrayed any
peevishness or impatience. . . . . .[516:2]

These are a few particulars, which may perhaps appear
trifling, but to me no particulars seem trifling that relate
to so great a man. It is perhaps from trifles that we can best
distinguish the tranquillity and cheerfulness of the
philosopher, at a time when the most part of mankind are under
disquiet, anxiety, and sometimes even horror. I consider the
sacrifice of the cock as a more certain evidence of the
tranquillity of Socrates, than his discourse on
immortality.[517:1]

The death and burial of so distinguished a fellow citizen, were naturally the objects of much attention among the inhabitants of Edinburgh. On the one hand his unpopular opinions; on the other, the blameless character of his life and his great genius, excited conflicting opinions, and these giving zest to public attention and curiosity, attracted crowds to witness his funeral, and to look with mingled feelings, on the spot where his remains were, by the injunctions of his will, deposited.[517:2]

On the declivity of the Calton Hill there is an old grave-yard, which seventy years ago was in the open country beyond the boundary of the city of Edinburgh, and even at the present day, when it is the centre of a wide circumference of streets and terraces, has an air of solitude, from its elevated site, and the abrupt rocky banks that separate it from the crowded thoroughfares. There, on a conspicuous point of rock, beneath a circular monument built after the simple and solemn fashion of the old Roman tombs, lies the dust of David Hume. Whither the immortal spirit that gave life to it is gone, let no man too presumptuously pronounce; but let us rather contemplate with respectful awe, that unseen essence which the Deity had imbued with so great a power over the intellects of men, and believe that this wide sway over the destinies of the human species had its own wise and beneficent design, and was no produce of malign influences or untoward accidents. Fallacies may be the brilliant insects of a day, but truth is eternal; and when the searcher in philosophy groping amid the darkness of man's imperfect reason, produces falsehoods, they are speedily forgotten; but if he develop great truths, they live to bless his species for ever. There are few who will now deny that mankind have learned many valuable truths of David Hume. The wide influence of his mind over thought and action, during the last hundred years, is expressed in the mere naming of the systems of which he was the author or suggester.

His Metaphysical labours gave birth to two great schools of philosophy. The one rising at his own door, endeavoured by powerful and earnest efforts to reconstruct in a more rational and substantial form the old system which he had sapped--the other in a distant land, where new lights of science had begun to burn, sought to raise mental philosophy from its original elements, purified of the dross and rubbish that had rendered the old materials cumbrous and unsafe, and to endow the whole with fresh life and a new form and structure.[519:1]

In Ethics he was the first to make an Utilitarian morality assume the aspect of a theoretical system, which it was the task of a great successor, aided by subordinate labourers, to apply to the practical operations of mankind, and to spread widely over the earth.

In History he was the first to divert attention from wars, treaties, and successions, to the living progress of the people, in all that increases their civilization and their happiness. The example thus set has been the chief service of the "History of England;" yet, with all the faults of its matter, its purely literary merits have been so great, that, as a classical and popular work, it has hitherto encountered no rival.[519:2]

But his triumphs in Political Economy are those which, in the present day, stand forth with the greatest prominence and lustre. In no long time, a hundred years will have elapsed from the day when Hume told the world, what the legislature of this country is now declaring, that national exclusiveness in trade was as foolish as it was wicked; that no nation could profit by stopping the natural flood of commerce between itself and the rest of the world; that commercial restrictions deprive the nations of the earth "_of that free communication and exchange, which the author of the world has intended by giving them soils, climates, and geniuses, so different from each other_;" and that, like the healthy circulation of the blood in living bodies, Free Trade is the vital principle by which the nations of the earth are to become united in one harmonious whole.[520:1] Those who, with a reverential eye, have marked the wonders of the animal structure, and discovered beauty, utility, and harmonious purpose, where presumptuous ignorance has found uselessness or deformity; or have seen the lower animals, each working in its own blind ignorance, gregariously constructing a fabric more perfect, on philosophical principles, than human science can create,--have thence drawn vivid pictures of the wisdom and goodness with which the world is ordered. May we not extend this harmony to the social economy of the globe, and say, that the spirit of activity and enterprise, harmonizing with the dispersal of the different bounties of Providence in the distant regions of the globe, are part of the same harmonious system; that the love of commerce and the desire of aggrandisement, which in the eye of a narrow philosophy assume the air of selfish and repulsive passions, represent themselves, when they are left to their legitimate course, as motives implanted in us for the great purposes of securing mutual dependance and kind offices, and their fruits, peace and good-will, throughout the great family of mankind. To be the first to teach that the earth is not doomed to the eternal curse of rivalry and strife, and to open up so wide a prospect of beneficence, may be an atonement for many errors, and in the eye of good taste may justify the brief assumption of conscious superiority, in which the subject of this memoir indulged, when he desired that the inscription on his monument should contain only his name, with the year of his birth and of his death. _Leaving it to posterity to add the rest._

FOOTNOTES:

[439:1] Account of Home, p. 20.

[441:1] It has been said that, having once given a guinea by mistake to a beggar, the man, who was a respectable member of his trade, returned and explained the mistake. He was permitted to keep the coin, the philosopher observing, "Oh, Honesty--how poor a dwelling-place hast thou found!"

[444:1] Account of John Home, p. 20-21.

[445:1] See, on this amusement of character drawing, vol. i. p. 226.

[446:1] Lives of the Lindsays. By Lord Lindsay. Vol. ii. p. 183.

[449:1] Among the traditional anecdotes of his habits, one is, that going to sup with Mrs. Cockburn, and not arriving until after the choice of the good things had been consumed, when some effort was made to cater for him, he said, "Trouble yourself very little about what you have, or how it appears; you know I am no epicure, but only a glutton." Mr. Chambers says, (Scottish Jests, p. 171,) that he took down this anecdote from one who was present.

These literary parties at Mrs. Cockburn's, appear to have been frequent and agreeable. A gentleman still living, was present at many of them when a youth, and particularly recollects one occasion when a tipsy relative of that lady chose to lock the door of the room where the walking habiliments of the guests were preserved. A general borrowing of articles of clothing from surrounding neighbours took place, and those which fell to Hume's lot, happened to produce a peculiarly ludicrous effect.

[450:1] It is given without reference to authority, in Prior's Life of Burke, vol. i. p. 98.

[450:2] In one instance, a vivid recollection was preserved of the difficulty, from his fatness, of getting sufficient room on his knee, and the necessity of keeping fast hold of the corner of his laced waistcoat.

[452:1] He seems, from this and other notices, to have been occasionally absent in his habits; but there is no such collection of practical illustrations of this failing, as we possess in the case of Smith and others. I only remember having heard of one trifling instance, of which I had an account from an eye-witness. Hume had been dining with Dr. Jardine, and there had been much conversation about "internal light." In descending the stair leading from the Doctor's "flat," when he left the party, Hume failed to observe that after so many flights which reached the street door, there was, according to a not uncommon practice, another flight of stairs leading to the cellars. He continued his descent, accordingly, till the very end, where some time afterwards he was found in extreme darkness and perplexity, wondering how it was that he could find no outlet. The circumstance bore rather curiously on some opinions he had been maintaining, and Jardine said, shaking his head, "Oh David! where is your internal light?"

[452:2] Diary of a Lover of Literature.--_Gentleman's Magazine_, N.S. i. 142.

[455:1] The passage here omitted will be found above, vol. i. p. 97.

[455:2] MS. R.S.E. In citing this letter above, vol. i. p. 98, it is stated that on one MS. there is noted a supposition that it was addressed to Dr. Traill--on another that it was addressed to Gilbert Stuart. I now think it must have been addressed to Dr. John Stewart, Professor of Natural Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, and that it related to his "Remarks on the Laws of Motion and the Inertion of Matter," published in "Essays and Observations physical and literary, read before a Society in Edinburgh."

[457:1] Minute-book of The Poker Club, in possession of Sir Adam Ferguson.

[459:1] MS. R.S.E.

[461:1] MS. R.S.E.

[461:2] MS. R.S.E.

[461:3] Of the East India Company's service, author of "The History of Hindostan, translated from the Persian," 1803.

[462:1] _Edinburgh Monthly Magazine_, Sept. 1810.

[465:1] See above, p. 220.

[465:2] _Edinburgh Magazine_, 1788, p. 340.

[466:1] MS. R.S.E.

[467:1] MS. R.S.E.

[467:2] Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland, from the dissolution of the last parliament of Charles II. until the sea battle of La Hogue, 3 vols. 4to.

[467:3] MS. R.S.E.

[468:1] William Smellie, the respectable printer of the Magazine, seems to have led an uneasy life, between the quarrels and the dissipation of his editor, of which he has left some picturesque memorials. Having come one night to Smellie's house on magazine business in a very advanced stage of intoxication, Stuart was charitably put to bed. Roused in the middle of the night by an immense outcry from the awakened editor, Smellie rushed to the bedroom in his night clothes. Stuart sitting up in bed and glaring around him, immediately associated the respectable printer's presence with the places in which he was himself accustomed to waken, and said,--"Smellie, I never expected to find _you_ in such a place: put on your clothes, and go back to your wife and family, I shall never say a word about this." A journey of six miles, from Edinburgh to Musselburgh, made by Stuart and some of his companions, in which, by reason of the abundance of good cheer on the way, they occupied several days, seems to have been fruitful in adventures. One of the party falling asleep among the ashes of a steam engine, wakened in the night, and found himself in the presence of a great red furnace, surrounded by dusky figures clanging bolts and chains. Associating the exhibition with the course of life he had been running, and its probable reward, he was heard to exclaim, "Good God, is it come to this at last!"--See _Kerr's Memoirs of Smellie_.

[470:1] D'Israeli's Calamities of Authors, ii. 67. The letter, after such exhortations as the following,--"Strike by all means: the wretch will tremble, grow pale, and return with a consciousness of his debility," winds up with the assurance, "When you have an enemy to attack, I shall in return give my best assistance, and aim at him a mortal blow, and rush forward to his overthrow, though the flames of hell should start up to oppose me."

[470:2] The _proof_, with Hume's corrections, is in the possession of John Christison, Esq., who has kindly allowed me to make this use of it. The last paragraph is a manuscript addition made in correcting the proof. The substance of Hume's praise was probably given to Henry in some other form; for a portion of the analytical part of the review is printed in a memoir of Henry, in _The Gentleman's Magazine_, (vol. lxxi. p. 907,) as written by "one of the most eminent historians of the present age, whose history of the same period possesses the highest reputation."

[471:1] Madame Geoffrin, in writing to Hume, notices Franklin's imperfect acquaintance with the French language; this must have been one of the difficulties which his matchless perseverance conquered.

I may mention that, aware that Hume had written to Franklin, I thought it not unlikely that the letters might be incorporated in the elaborate edition of his "Life and Correspondence" by Sparkes. Unfortunately trusting to the copy in the British Museum, I found, at the last moment, that that copy was imperfect, and did not afford the means of ascertaining whether they were published in the work.

[471:2] MS. R.S.E.

[472:1] A specimen of the _Scots Review_, a thin duodecimo pamphlet, is now very rare. Its chief object of attention is "that great necromancer and magician David Hume." It is not inaptly described by the _Scots Magazine_:--

"It professes to give a prospectus, and a specimen of an intended new review; but the whole object seems to have been to laugh at some individuals obnoxious to the writer, and particularly to ridicule the virulence, and to lower the pretensions of those who had signalized themselves by their attacks upon the philosophical writings of Mr. Hume; a promise is held out, that this arch-infidel is himself to be reviewed in the first place; and next, those authors who have waged a holy war against him; of whom a list is given, with their characters, the delineation of which, in no very favourable colours, appears, as already mentioned, to have exhausted the main object of the piece, though one or two gentle hits are aimed at the historian himself."

[472:2] Rev. Thomas Hepburn, minister of Athelstaneford.

[472:3] _Scots Mag._ New Series. Vol. i.

[473:1] Original in possession of the Cambusmore family.

[474:1] MS. R.S.E.

[474:2] Addressed, "Mr. David Hume, at Ninewells, with a great coat."

[474:3] Professor Millar of Glasgow.

[475:1] MS. R.S.E.

[476:1] Mackenzie's account of Home, p. 158.

[477:1] MS. R.S.E.

[477:2] Strahan's letters were carefully preserved by Hume. On application to those who would be likely to possess Hume's side of the correspondence, if it existed, I was informed that it was Mr. Strahan's practice to destroy all the letters addressed to him; but I was very politely favoured with a copy of one of his own letters, which Mr. Strahan had preserved.

[478:1] MS. R.S.E.

[479:1] _Lit. Gazette_, 1822, p. 637. Corrected from original MS. R.S.E.

[482:1] MS. R.S.E. Addressed, "Mr. David Hume, at Mr. Professor Millar's, at Glasgow." The blanks are caused by a stripe having been torn off the side of the letter.

[483:1] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 160.

[484:1] MS. R.S.E.

[485:1] Life of Gibbon.

[486:1] From this it would appear that Hume had opened up in his own mind, the theory of rent, afterwards successively suggested by Dr. Anderson and Ricardo, without the latter, it is believed, knowing that he had been anticipated by the author of the _Bee_.

[487:1] MS. R.S.E.

[488:1] The letter is of such a character, as one medical man might be supposed to write to another. Black was no pedant, and he writes as if his correspondent knew the technicalities of the science in their full practical meaning,--an addition to the many illustrations of the varied range of scientific knowledge, at the command of the master of political economy.

[489:1] The following provision is in a codicil: "I also leave for rebuilding the bridge of Churnside the sum of a hundred pounds; but on condition that the manager of the bridge shall take none of the stones for building the bridge from the quarry of Ninewells, except from that part of the quarry which has been already opened." With reference to this, Dr. Cullen, in the letter cited, p. 516, says, "In the neighbourhood of his brother's house, in Berwickshire, is a brook, by which the access in time of floods is frequently interrupted. Mr. Hume bequeaths £100 for building a bridge over this brook, but upon the express condition that none of the stones for that purpose shall be taken from a quarry in the neighbourhood, which forms part of a romantic scene, in which, in his earlier days, Mr. Hume took particular delight." This is the only authenticated instance that I remember to have met with of Hume's attachment to local scenery. It is a tradition in Edinburgh, that he was fond of walking along the base of Salisbury Crags.