Chapter IV: Preface (2)

In the year 1759, Adam Ferguson was appointed professor of natural philosophy in the university of Edinburgh. From the following correspondence, it appears that Hume and others were desirous that Smith should occupy a chair in Edinburgh, and, apparently, the same that was obtained by Ferguson,[45:2] and that Ferguson should succeed Smith in Glasgow. The singular terms on which the Edinburgh professorship appears to have been disposed of, were, probably, not such as Smith would accede to; and we afterwards find Hume conducting a negotiation for Ferguson alone.

HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.

"_8th June, 1758._

"DEAR SMITH,--I sit down to write to you along with Johnstone; and as we have been talking over the matter, it is probable we shall employ the same arguments. As he is the younger lawyer, I leave him to open the case, and, suppose that you have read his letter first. We are certain that the settlement of you here, and of Ferguson at Glasgow, would be perfectly easy, by Lord Milton's interest. The prospect of prevailing with Abercromby is also very good; for the same statesman, by his influence over the town council, could oblige him either to attend, which he never would do, or dispose of the office for the money which he gave for it. The only real difficulty is, then, with you. Pray, then, consider that this is, perhaps, the only opportunity we shall ever have of getting you to town. I dare swear that you think the difference of place is worth paying something for; and yet it will really cost you nothing. You made above £100 a-year, by your class, when in this place, though you had not the character of professor. We cannot suppose that it will be less than £130 after you are settled. John Stevenson; and it is John Stevenson, makes near £150, as we were informed upon inquiry.[46:1] Here is £100 a-year for eight years' purchase; which is a cheap purchase, even considered as the way of a bargain. We flatter ourselves that you rate our company at something; and the prospect of settling Ferguson will be an additional inducement. For, though we think of making him take up the project if you refuse it, yet it is uncertain whether he will consent; and it is attended, in his case, with many very obvious objections. I beseech you, therefore, to weigh all these motives over again. The alteration of these circumstances merit that you should put the matter again in deliberation. I had a letter from Miss Hepburn, where she regrets very much that you are settled at Glasgow, and that we had the chance of seeing you so seldom. I am," &c.

"P.S.--Lord Milton can, with his finger, stop the foul mouths of all the roarers against heresy."[47:1]

HUME _to the_ REV. JOHN JARDINE.[47:2]

"REV. SIR,--I am informed, by the late Rev. Mr. John Home, that the still Rev. Adam Ferguson's affair is so far on a good footing, that it is agreed to refer the matter to the Justice Clerk, whether more shall be paid to Mr. Abercromby than he himself gave for that professorship. Now, as it is obvious that, in these kinds of references, where the question is not of law and justice, the circumstances of the person are to be considered, I beg of you to inform my Lord of the true state of the case. Ferguson must borrow almost the whole sum which he pays for this office. If any more, therefore, be asked than £1000, it would be the most ruinous thing in the world for him to accept of the office. I am even of opinion that if any other method of subsistence offered, it were preferable to this scheme of paying the length of £1000; at least such would be my sentiments, if the case were mine.

"If the Justice Clerk considers the matter aright, he will never agree to so unreasonable a demand as that of paying more; and I hope you will second these arguments with all your usual eloquence, by which you so successfully confound the devices of Satan, and bring sinners to repentance. I am, Rev. Sir, your most obsequious humble servant."[47:3]

Towards the end of the year 1758, but at what particular time is not more minutely known, Hume went to London, and resided in Lisle Street, Leicester Fields. His object probably was to superintend the printing of the "History of the House of Tudor;" but he was able at the same time to perform essential services to his friend Dr. Robertson, whose "History of Scotland" was then going through the press in London. Of Hume's letters to Dr. Robertson, several have been published, though only in a fragmentary form, in Dugald Stewart's "Life of Robertson."[48:1] The portions thus preserved, are naturally those which have most relation to the person to whom they are addressed; but of the letters themselves, which doubtless, like many others from the same hand, contained some curious particulars of their author's habits and passing thoughts, no trace has been found.[48:2] Several of these letters, written while Robertson's work was at press, have relation to minor historical questions, which have subsequently been settled. The following extracts are given, from the parts which have least reference to these details.

HUME _to_ DR. ROBERTSON.

(_Extracts._)

I am afraid that you, as well as myself, have drawn Mary's
character with too great softenings. She was, undoubtedly, a
violent woman at all times. You will see in _Murden_ proofs of
the utmost rancour against her innocent, good-natured, dutiful
son. She certainly disinherited him. What think you of a
conspiracy for kidnapping him, and delivering him a prisoner
to the King of Spain, never to recover his liberty till he
should turn Catholic? Tell Goodall, that if he can but give me
up Queen Mary, I hope to satisfy him in every thing else; and
he will have the pleasure of seeing John Knox and the
Reformers made very ridiculous. . . .

You have very good cause to be satisfied with the success of
your History, as far as it can be judged of from a few weeks'
publication. I have not heard of one who does not praise it
warmly; and were I to enumerate all those whose suffrages I
have either heard in its favour, or been told of, I should
fill my letter with a list of names. Mallet told me that he
was sure there was no Englishman capable of composing such a
work. The town will have it that you was educated at Oxford,
thinking it impossible for a mere untravelled Scotsman to
produce such language. In short, you may depend on the success
of your work, and that your name is known very much to your
advantage.

I am diverting myself with the notion how much you will profit
by the applause of my enemies in Scotland. Had you and I been
such fools as to have given way to jealousy, to have
entertained animosity and malignity against each other, and to
have rent all our acquaintance into parties, what a noble
amusement we should have exhibited to the blockheads, which
now they are likely to be disappointed of. All the people
whose friendship or judgment either of us value, are friends
to both, and will be pleased with the success of both, as we
will be with that of each other. I declare to you I have not
of a long time had a more sensible pleasure than the good
reception of your History has given me within this fortnight.

_25th January, 1759._

I am nearly printed out, and shall be sure to send you a copy
by the stage-coach, or some other conveyance. I beg of you to
make remarks as you go along. It would have been much better
had we communicated before printing, which was always my
desire, and was most suitable to the friendship which always
did, and I hope always will, subsist between us. I speak this
chiefly on my own account. For though I had the perusal of
your sheets before I printed, I was not able to derive
sufficient benefits from them, or indeed to make any
alteration by their assistance. There still remain, I fear,
many errors, of which you could have convinced me, if we had
canvassed the matter in conversation. Perhaps I might also
have been sometimes no less fortunate with you. Particularly
I could almost undertake to convince you, that the Earl of
Murray's conduct with the Duke of Norfolk was no way
dishonourable. . . .

Dr. Blair tells me that Prince Edward is reading you, and is
charmed. I hear the same of the Princess and Prince of Wales.
But what will really give you pleasure, I lent my copy to
Elliot during the holidays, who thinks it one of the finest
performances he ever read; and though he expected much, he
finds more. He remarked, however, (which is also my opinion,)
that in the beginning, before your pen was sufficiently
accustomed to the historic style, you employed too many
digressions and reflections. This was also somewhat my own
case, which I have corrected in my new edition.

Millar was proposing to publish me about the middle of March;
but I shall communicate to him your desire, even though I
think it entirely groundless, as you will likewise think,
after you have read my volume. He has very needlessly delayed
your publication till the 1st of February, at the desire of
the Edinburgh booksellers, who could no way be affected by a
publication in London. I was exceedingly sorry not to be able
to comply with your desire, when you expressed your wish that
I should not write this period. I could not write downward.
For when you find occasion, by new discoveries, to correct
your opinion with regard to facts which passed in Queen
Elizabeth's days, who, that has not the best opportunities of
informing himself, could venture to relate any recent
transactions? I must, therefore, have abandoned altogether
this scheme of the English history, in which I had proceeded
so far, if I had not acted as I did. You will see what light
and force this History of the Tudors bestows on that of the
Stuarts. Had I been prudent, I should have begun with it. I
care not to boast, but I will venture to say, that I have now
effectually stopped the mouths of all those villanous Whigs
who railed at me.

You are so kind as to ask me about my coming down. I can yet
answer nothing. I have the strangest reluctance to change
places. I lived several years happy with my brother at
Ninewells; and had not his marriage changed a little the state
of the family, I believe I should have lived and died there. I
used every expedient to evade this journey to London; yet it
is now uncertain whether I shall ever leave it. I have had
some invitations, and some intentions, of taking a trip to
Paris; but I believe it will be safer for me not to go
thither, for I might probably settle there for life. No one
was ever endowed with so great a portion of the _vis
inertiae_. But as I live here very privately, and avoid as
much as possible (and it is easily possible) all connexion
with the great, I believe I should be better in Edinburgh. . . . .

_London, 8th February, 1759._

. . . . As to the "Age of Leo the Tenth," it was Warton
himself who intended to write it; but he has not wrote it, and
probably never will. If I understand your hint, I should
conjecture, that you had some thoughts of taking up the
subject. But how can you acquire knowledge of the great works
of sculpture, architecture, and painting, by which that age
was chiefly distinguished? Are you versed in all the anecdotes
of the Italian literature? These questions I heard proposed in
a company of literati, when I inquired concerning this design
of Warton. They applied their remarks to that gentleman, who
yet, they say, has travelled. I wish they do not, all of them,
fall more fully on you. However, you must not be idle. May I
venture to suggest to you the Ancient History, particularly
that of Greece? I think Rollin's success might encourage you;
nor need you be in the least intimidated by his merit. That
author has no other merit but a certain facility and sweetness
of narration; but has loaded his work with silly
puerilities. . . . .

* * * * *

I forgot to tell you, that two days ago I was in the House of
Commons, where an English gentleman came to me, and told me
that he had lately sent to a grocer's shop for a pound of
raisins, which he received wrapped up in a paper that he
showed me. How would you have turned pale at the sight! It was
a leaf of your History, and the very character of Queen
Elizabeth, which you had laboured so finely, little thinking
it would so soon come to so disgraceful an end. I happened a
little after to see Millar, and told him the story;
consulting him, to be sure, on the fate of his new boasted
historian, of whom he was so fond. But the story proves more
serious than I apprehended: for he told Strahan, who thence
suspects villany among his apprentices and journeymen; and has
sent me very earnestly to know the gentleman's name, that he
may find out the grocer, and trace the matter to the bottom.
In vain did I remonstrate that this was sooner or later the
fate of all authors, _serius, ocyus, sors exitura_. He will
not be satisfied; and begs me to keep my jokes for another
occasion. But that I am resolved not to do; and, therefore,
being repulsed by his passion and seriousness, I direct them
against you.

Next week I am published; and then I expect a constant
comparison will be made between Dr. Robertson and Mr. Hume. I
shall tell you in a few weeks which of these heroes is likely
to prevail. Meanwhile, I can inform both of them for their
comforts, that their combat is not likely to make half so much
noise as that between Broughton and the one-eyed coachman.
_Vanitas vanitatum, atque omnia vanitas._ I shall still
except, however, the friendship and good opinion of worthy
men. I am, &c.

_London, 12th March, 1759._

MY DEAR SIR,--I believe I mentioned to you a French gentleman,
Monsieur Helvetius, whose book, "De l'Esprit," was making a
great noise in Europe. He is a very fine genius, and has the
character of a very worthy man. My name is mentioned several
times in his work with marks of esteem; and he has made me an
offer, if I would translate his work into English, to
translate anew all my philosophical writings into French. He
says that none of them are well done, except that on the
"Natural History of Religion," by Monsieur Martigny,[52:1] a
counsellor of state. He added, that the Abbé Prevôt,
celebrated for the _Memoires d'un homme d'Honneur_, and other
entertaining works,[52:2] was just now translating my
History. This account of Helvetius engaged me to send him over
the new editions of all my writings; and I have added your
History, which, I told him, was here published with great
applause; adding, that the subject was interesting, and the
execution masterly; and that it was probable some man of
letters at Paris may think that a translation of it would be
agreeable to the public. I thought that this was the best
method of executing your intentions. I could not expect that
any Frenchman here would be equal to the work. There is one
Carraccioli, who came to me and spoke something of translating
my new volume of History; but as he also mentioned his
intentions of translating Smollett, I gave him no
encouragement to proceed. The same reason would make me averse
to see you in his hands.

But though I have given this character of your work to
Monsieur Helvetius, I warn you, that this is the last time
that, either to Frenchman or Englishman, I shall ever speak
the least good of it. A plague take you! Here I sat near the
historical summit of Parnassus, immediately under Dr.
Smollett; and you have the impudence to squeeze yourself by
me, and place yourself directly under his feet. Do you imagine
that this can be agreeable to me? And must not I be guilty of
great simplicity, to contribute, by my endeavours, to your
thrusting me out of my place in Paris as well as at London?
But I give you warning that you will find the matter somewhat
difficult, at least in the former city. A friend of mine, who
is there, writes home to his father, the strangest accounts on
that head, which my modesty will not permit me to repeat, but
which it allowed me very deliciously to swallow.

I have got a good reason or pretence for excusing me to
Monsieur Helvetius, with regard to the translating his work. A
translation of it was previously advertised here.

_---- 20th, 1759._

I am afraid that my letters will be tedious and disagreeable
to you by their uniformity. Nothing but continued and
unvaried accounts of the same thing must in the end prove
disgusting. Yet since you will hear me speak on this subject,
I cannot help it, and must fatigue your ears as much as ours
are in this place, by endless and repeated, and noisy praises
of the "History of Scotland." Dr. Douglas told me yesterday,
that he had seen the Bishop of Norwich, who had just bought
the book, from the high commendations he heard of it from Mr.
Legge. Mallet told me that Lord Mansfield is at a loss whether
he shall most esteem the matter or the style. Elliot told me,
that being in company with George Grenville, that gentleman
was speaking loud in the same key. Our friend pretended
ignorance; said he knew the author, and if he thought the book
good for any thing, would send for it and read it. "Send for
it, by all means," said Mr. Grenville; "you have not read a
better book of a long time."--"But," said Elliot, "I suppose,
although the matter may be tolerable, as the author was never
on this side the Tweed till he wrote it, it must be very
barbarous in the expression." "By no means," cried Mr.
Grenville. "Had the author lived all his life in London, and
in the best company, he could not have expressed himself with
greater elegance and purity." Lord Lyttelton seems to think
that, since the time of St. Paul, there scarce has been a
better writer than Dr. Robertson. Mr. Walpole triumphs in the
success of his favourites the Scotch, &c. &c. &c.

. . . . . The great success of your book, beside its real
merit, is forwarded by its prudence, and by the deference paid
to established opinions. It gains also by its being your first
performance, and by its surprising the public, who are not
upon their guard against it. By reason of these two
circumstances, justice is more readily done to its merit;
which, however, is really so great, that I believe there is
scarce another instance of a first performance being so near
perfection.

_London, 29th May, 1759._

MY DEAR SIR,--I had a letter from Helvetius lately, wrote
before your book arrived at Paris. He tells me, that the Abbé
Prevôt, who had just finished the translation of my History,
paroit très-disposé à traduire l'Histoire d'Ecosse que vient
de faire Monsieur Robertson. If he be engaged by my
persuasion, I shall have the satisfaction of doing you a real
credit and pleasure; for he is one of the best pens in
Paris.[55:1] . . . . . .

Our friend Smith[55:2] is very successful here, and
Gerard[55:3] is very well received. The Epigoniad I cannot so
much promise for, though I have done all in my power to
forward it, particularly by writing a letter to _The Critical
Review_, which you may peruse. I find, however, some good
judges profess a great esteem for it: but _habent et sua fata
libelli_: however, if you want a little flattery to the
author, (which I own is very refreshing to an author) you may
tell him that Lord Chesterfield said to me he was a great
poet. I imagine that Wilkie will be very much elevated by
praise from an English Earl, and a knight of the Garter, and
an ambassador, and a secretary of state, and a man of so great
reputation. For I observe that the greatest rustics are
commonly most affected with such circumstances.

Ferguson's book[55:4] has a great deal of genius and fine
writing, and will appear in time. . . . .

In 1759, Adam Smith published his "Theory of Moral Sentiments." The following letters embody Hume's appreciation of that work.

HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.

_London, April 12, 1759._

DEAR SIR,--I give you thanks for the agreeable present of your
Theory. Wedderburn and I made presents of our copies to such
of our acquaintances as we thought good judges, and proper to
spread the reputation of the book. I sent one to the Duke of
Argyle, to Lord Lyttelton, Horace Walpole, Soame Jenyns, and
Burke an Irish gentleman, who wrote lately a very pretty
Treatise on the Sublime. Millar desired my permission to send
one in your name to Dr. Warburton.

I have delayed writing to you, till I could tell you something
of the success of the book, and could prognosticate, with some
probability, whether it should be finally damned to oblivion,
or should be registered in the temple of immortality. Though
it has been published only a few weeks, I think there appear
already such strong symptoms, that I can almost venture to
foretell its fate. It is, in short, this----

But I have been interrupted in my letter by a foolish
impertinent visit of one who has lately come from Scotland. He
tells me that the University of Glasgow intend to declare
Rouet's office vacant, upon his going abroad with Lord Hope. I
question not but you will have our friend Ferguson in your
eye, in case another project for procuring him a place in the
University of Edinburgh should fail. Ferguson has very much
polished and improved his Treatise on Refinement;[56:1] and
with some amendments it will make an admirable book, and
discovers an elegant and a singular genius. The Epigoniad, I
hope, will do; but it is somewhat up-hill work. As I doubt not
but you consult the Reviews sometimes at present, you will see
in _The Critical Review_ a letter upon that poem; and I desire
you to employ your conjectures in finding out the author. Let
me see a sample of your skill in knowing hands by your
guessing at the person.[56:2]

I am afraid of Kames' "Law Tracts." A man might as well think
of making a fine sauce by a mixture of wormwood and aloes, as
an agreeable composition by joining metaphysics and Scottish
law. However, the book, I believe, has merit; though few
people will take the pains of inquiring into it. But to return
to your book, and its success in this town, I must tell
you----

A plague of interruptions! I ordered myself to be denied; and
yet here is one that has broke in upon me again. He is a man
of letters, and we have had a good deal of literary
conversation. You told me, that you was curious of literary
anecdotes, and therefore I shall inform you of a few that
have come to my knowledge. I believe I have mentioned to you
already, Helvetius's book "De l'Esprit." It is worth your
reading, not for its philosophy, which I do not highly value,
but for its agreeable composition. I had a letter from him a
few days ago, wherein he tells me that my name was much
oftener in the manuscript, but that the censor of books at
Paris obliged him to strike it out.

Voltaire has lately published a small work called _Candide,
ou, l'Optimisme_. I shall give you a detail of it. But what is
all this to my book, say you? My dear Mr. Smith, have
patience: compose yourself to tranquillity; show yourself a
philosopher in practice as well as profession: think on the
emptiness, and rashness, and futility of the common judgments
of men; how little they are regulated by reason in any
subject, much more in philosophical subjects, which so far
exceed the comprehension of the vulgar.

----Non si quid turbida Roma,
Elevet, accedas: examenve improbum in illâ
Castiges trutinâ: nec te quaesiveris extra.

A wise man's kingdom is his own breast; or, if he ever looks
farther, it will only be to the judgment of a select few, who
are free from prejudices, and capable of examining his work.
Nothing, indeed, can be a stronger presumption of falsehood
than the approbation of the multitude; and Phocion, you know,
always suspected himself of some blunder, when he was attended
with the applauses of the populace.

Supposing, therefore, that you have duly prepared yourself for
the worst by all these reflections, I proceed to tell you the
melancholy news, that your book has been very unfortunate; for
the public seem disposed to applaud it extremely. It was
looked for by the foolish people with some impatience; and the
mob of literati are beginning already to be very loud in its
praises. Three bishops called yesterday at Millar's shop in
order to buy copies, and to ask questions about the author.
The Bishop of Peterborough said, he had passed the evening in
a company where he heard it extolled above all books in the
world. The Duke of Argyle is more decisive than he used to be
in its favour. I suppose he either considers it as an exotic,
or thinks the author will be serviceable to him in the
Glasgow elections. Lord Lyttelton says that Robertson, and
Smith, and Bower,[58:1] are the glories of English literature.
Oswald protests he does not know whether he has reaped more
instruction or entertainment from it. But you may easily judge
what reliance can be put on his judgment, who has been engaged
all his life in public business, and who never sees any faults
in his friends. Millar exults and brags that two-thirds of the
edition are already sold, and that he is now sure of success.
You see what a son of the earth that is, to value books only
by the profit they bring him. In that view, I believe it may
prove a very good book.

Charles Townsend, who passes for the cleverest fellow in
England, is so taken with the performance, that he said to
Oswald he would put the Duke of Buccleuch under the author's
care, and would make it worth his while to accept of that
charge. As soon as I heard this, I called on him twice, with a
view of talking with him about the matter, and of convincing
him of the propriety of sending that young nobleman to
Glasgow: for I could not hope, that he could offer you any
terms which would tempt you to renounce your professorship;
but I missed him. Mr. Townsend passes for being a little
uncertain in his resolutions; so perhaps you need not build
much on his sally.

In recompense for so many mortifying things, which nothing but
truth could have extorted from me, and which I could easily
have multiplied to a greater number, I doubt not but you are
so good a Christian as to return good for evil; and to flatter
my vanity by telling me, that all the godly in Scotland abuse
me for my account of John Knox and the Reformation. I suppose
you are glad to see my paper end, and that I am obliged to
conclude with--Your humble servant.[58:2]

HUME _to_ ADAM SMITH.

_London, 28th July, 1759._

DEAR SIR,--Your friend, Mr. Wilson,[59:1] called on me two
three days ago when I was abroad, and he left your letter. I
did not see him till to-day. He seems a very modest, sensible,
ingenious man. Before I saw him, I spoke to Mr. A. Millar
about him, and found him very much disposed to serve him. I
proposed particularly to Mr. Millar, that it was worthy of so
eminent a bookseller as he, to make a complete elegant set of
the classics, which might set up his name equal to the
Alduses, Stevenses, or Elzevirs; and that Mr. Wilson was the
properest person in the world to assist him in such a project.
He confessed to me that he had sometimes thought of it; but
that his great difficulty was to find a man of letters, who
could correct the press. I mentioned the matter to Wilson, who
said he had a man of letters in his eye: one Lyon, a nonjuring
clergyman at Glasgow. He is probably known to you, or at least
may be so; I would desire your opinion of him.

Mr. Wilson told me of his machines, which seem very ingenious,
and deserve much encouragement. I shall soon see them.

I am very well acquainted with Bourke, who was much taken with
your book. He got your direction from me, with a view of
writing to you, and thanking you for your present; for I made
it pass in your name. I wonder he has not done it: he is now
in Ireland. I am not acquainted with Jenyns; but he spoke very
highly of the book to Oswald, who is his brother in the board
of trade. Millar showed me, a few days ago, a letter from Lord
Fitzmaurice; where he tells him, that he has carried over a
few copies to the Hague, for presents. Mr. York was very much
taken with it, as well as several others who had read it.

I am told that you are preparing a new edition, and propose to
make some additions and alterations, in order to obviate
objections. I shall use the freedom to propose one; which, if
it appears to be of any weight, you may have in your eye. I
wish you had more particularly and fully proved that all kinds
of sympathy are necessarily agreeable. This is the hinge of
your system, and yet you only mention the matter cursorily, in
p. 20. Now, it would appear that there is a disagreeable
sympathy, as well as an agreeable. And, indeed, as the
sympathetic passion is a reflex image of the principal, it
must partake of its qualities, and be painful where that is
so. Indeed, _when we converse with a man with whom we can
entirely sympathize_, that is, where there is a warm and
intimate friendship, the cordial openness of such a commerce
overpowers the pain of a disagreeable sympathy, and renders
the whole movement agreeable. But, in ordinary cases, this
cannot have place. An ill-humoured fellow; a man tired and
disgusted with every thing, always _ennuié_, sickly,
complaining, embarrassed; such a one throws an evident damp on
company, which I suppose would be accounted for by sympathy,
and yet is disagreeable.

It is always thought a difficult problem to account for the
pleasure received from the tears, and grief, and sympathy of
tragedy, which would not be the case if all sympathy was
agreeable. An hospital would be a more entertaining place than
a ball. I am afraid that, in p. 99, and 111, this proposition
has escaped you, or, rather, is interwoven with your
reasonings in that place. You say expressly, "It is painful to
go along with grief, and we always enter into it with
reluctance." It will probably be requisite for you to modify
or explain this sentiment, and reconcile it to your system.

My dear Mr. Smith, you must not be so much engrossed with your
own book as never to mention mine. The Whigs, I am told, are
anew in a rage against me, though they know not how to vent
themselves; for they are constrained to allow all my facts.
You have, probably, seen Hurd's abuse of me. He is of the
Warburtonian school; and, consequently, very insolent and very
scurrilous; but I shall never reply a word to him. If my past
writings do not sufficiently prove me to be no Jacobite, ten
volumes in folio never would.

I signed, yesterday, an agreement with Mr. Millar; where I
mention that I proposed to write the History of England, from
the beginning till the accession of Henry VII.; and he engages
to give me £1400 for the copy. This is the first previous
agreement ever I made with a bookseller.[61:1] I shall execute
this work at leisure, without fatiguing myself by such ardent
application as I have hitherto employed. It is chiefly as a
resource against idleness that I shall undertake this work;
for, as to money, I have enough; and as to reputation, what I
have wrote already will be sufficient, if it be good; if not,
it is not likely I shall now write better. I found it
impracticable (at least fancied so) to write the History since
the Revolution. I am in doubt whether I shall stay here and
execute the work; or return to Scotland, and only come up here
to consult the manuscripts. I have several inducements on both
sides. Scotland suits my fortune best, and is the seat of my
principal friendships; but it is too narrow a place for me;
and it mortifies me that I sometimes hurt my friends. Pray
write me your judgment soon. Are the bigots much in arms on
account of this last volume? Robertson's book has great merit;
but it was visible that he profited here by the animosity
against me. I suppose the case was the same with you. I am,
dear Smith, yours sincerely.[61:2]

In 1758 and 1759, much alarm was caused throughout Britain by a threatened invasion from France. Hume seems to have "improved" this state of matters, in the following letters, imparting wild and exaggerated news. His writing in such a tone, at such a juncture, is an example of his entertaining the same contempt for panics as for popular feeling in other forms. There is no address on the first of the letters. The second would reach its destination nearly at the same time with the account of Rodney's destruction of the flat-bottomed boats intended for the invasion.

"_15th May, [1759.]_

"DEAR SIR,--If you pass by Edinburgh, please bring me two pounds of rapee, such as Peggy Elliot uses to take. You will get it at Gillespy's near the Cross.

"Mrs. Mallet has her compliments to you, and begs you to procure her a collection of Scotch pebbles. I assured her that I should inform you of her desire, and also that you would not fail to execute it.

"We hear that you are to be expelled the university with disgrace. Even the most partial of your friends here are obliged to allow that you deserve it.

"We expect over forty thousand French, with the first fair wind. They will probably settle the ministry; for, at present, the Pitts and the Legges, and the Grenvilles, are all going by the ears.

"We live in hopes of seeing you soon. My compliments to Smith, whose book is in a very good way.

"Dr. Warburton presents his compliments to you. Yours sincerely," &c.[62:1]

HUME _to_ MR. RUAT.[62:2]

"_6th July [1739.]_

"DEAR RUAT,--I am very much obliged to you for the desire you express to Miss Elliot of hearing from me; and particularly your wishing to be informed, by me, of any news that pass. As soon as I knew, certainly, how to direct to you, I have sat down to write; and, though the occurrences are no way extraordinary which I can communicate, they shall all be strictly, and literally, and certainly true; and you may venture to tell them as such to all the idle people that frequent Buxton.

"This morning, there arrived an express from Admiral Hawke's fleet, giving an account that the French fleet had sallied out of Brest, with twenty-four ships of the line, and had engaged the English fleet, in a desperate and bloody battle, from morning to night, which ended in a total victory on our side. There are seven of the French ships sunk and burnt, and four taken. There are two of our capital ships sunk, and the admiral's ship was blown up, with its whole company, not one of whom is saved. Prince Edward, in the Phœnix, behaved to admiration; but, towards the end of the engagement, an unlucky cannon ball carried away both his legs, by which it is feared we shall loose that promising young prince. Our friend, poor Dr. Blair, would not go below deck, but stood by the prince's side during the whole engagement, till his head was carried off by a double-headed shot.

"About three hours after the arrival of this express, there arrived another from the west, giving an account of the landing of the French in Torbay, to the number of twenty thousand foot, and five thousand horse. They believe already, in London, that they are sixty thousand strong. The panic is inconceivable. The people in the country are hurrying up to town; those in the town are hurrying down to the country. Nobody thinks of resistance. Every one believes the French, Popery, and the Pretender, to be at their heels.

"What adds to our general confusion is, the discovery of treachery in our councils. Mr. Pitt is sent to the Tower, for holding a secret correspondence with the French:--his ciphers and letters are taken. Mr. Wood, our friend, (if he can be said to deserve that name,) is thrown into a dungeon; and there will be certain proofs to convict him of that treachery.

"In order to prepare the way for this blow, the perfidious French had employed somebody to blow up the magazine in the Tower. I heard the explosion this morning about five o'clock. All London is covered with rubbish, and stones and brick, and broken arms. There fell into our back court a shattered musket, and the bloody leg of a man. I thought the day of judgment was come when I first heard the explosion, and began seriously to think of my sins.

"These events will, all of them, make a figure in future historians; and it is happy for these gentlemen, who are, or ought to be, very scrupulous with regard to matters of fact, that they can so well reconcile the true and the marvellous.

"As to private news, there is little stirring; only Dr. Warburton turned Mahometan, and was circumcised last week. They say he is to write a book, in order to prove the divine legation of Mahomet; and it is not doubted but he will succeed as well as in proving that of Moses. I saw him yesterday in the Mall with his turban; which really becomes him very well.

"Poor Andrew Millar is declared bankrupt; his debts amount to above £40,000, and it is said his creditors will not get above three shillings in the pound. All the world allow him to have been diligent and industrious; but his misfortunes are ascribed to the extravagance of his wife, a very ordinary case in this city.

"Miss ----, yesterday morning declared her marriage with Dr. Armstrong; but we were surprised in the afternoon to find Mr. Short the optician, come in and challenge her for his wife. It seems she has been married privately for some time to both of them. Her sister has been much more prudent, whom we find to have confined herself entirely to gallantry, and to have privately entertained a correspondence with three gallants. I am, dear Ruat, with great truth, your most sincere friend and humble servant."[65:1]

About the commencement of November, Hume returned to Scotland, for he writes to Millar on 18th December that he has been six weeks in Edinburgh. He states, that he is correcting his "History of the Stuarts;" and says, "I fancy that I shall be able to put my account of that period of English history beyond controversy. As soon as this task is finished, I undertake the ancient English history. I find the Advocates' Library very well provided with books, in this period: but before I finish, I shall pass a considerable time in London, to peruse the manuscripts in the Museum."[65:2]

On his return he left behind him, to be published in London, the two volumes of his "History of England, under the House of Tudor," of which he says in his "own life,"--"The clamour against this performance was almost equal to that against the History of the two first Stuarts. The reign of Elizabeth was particularly obnoxious."

He had now published the whole of that department of his History, from which his opinions on the later progress of the British constitution can be derived; and the epoch of this publication calls for some notice of the manner in which subsequent inquirers have found that he performed his task.[65:3] He was not like such writers as Clarendon and Brady, the interested or prejudiced advocate of the crown against the people; and we must look for the causes of his erroneous views in what he did not know, or did not believe, rather than in what he wilfully misrepresented. In his "Essay on Commerce," published in 1752, we find him thus foreshadowing the principle on which he was to treat the History of Britain:--"Lord Bacon, accounting for the great advantages obtained by the English in their wars with France, ascribes them chiefly to the superior ease and plenty of the common people among the former; _yet the government of the two kingdoms was at that time pretty much alike_." This assertion has been satisfactorily proved to be erroneous. The spirit of credulity in historical inquiry makes out every thing ancient to be better and greater than its modern representative. The spirit of scepticism questions whatever is said in favour of antiquity. The sceptic cannot throw doubt on the existing wonders of modern times. If one nation is far beyond another in arts, arms, civilization, or wealth, the facts cannot be denied; but when he looks back into past ages, the pliability of the evidence admits the influence of the levelling principle of scepticism, the tendency of which is to make all mankind seem much alike; and Hume, who would not have ventured to say that in his own day the constitutions of France and England were very much alike, considered it but a piece of proper caution to discard as fallacious the evidence that there was any great difference between them in former times.

Unquestionably the doubting or inquiring spirit is a valuable quality in a historian; for the narratives of human affairs are full of falsehoods, which it is the philosophical historian's function to discard. But the sifting will not be satisfactory, if the materials subjected to it have not been largely and laboriously collected; and the charge against Hume is, that he applied it to imperfect data. Where the data are insufficient, credulity and scepticism are merely the counterparts of each other, and produce erroneous results nearly alike. Those who proclaimed Bruce, the Abyssinian traveller, to be a liar, for statements which have now been authenticated, believed in the account given of a fictitious people, in an impudent forgery, called Psalmanazer's Formosa, which would not now impose for a moment on any educated person. Our enlarged knowledge of the matters to be subjected to sceptical analysis, has now, in both cases, brought us to the right conclusion.

An inquirer into the structure of the earth, who should know nothing of its crust but the sandy plains of Germany, would, were he of a sceptical spirit, discredit all those geological wonders which the most sceptical of scientific men now believe.[68:1] In relation to some parts of the British constitution, Hume was in the position of such an investigator. His early prejudice against the study of the law, prevented him from being fully acquainted with a science, the knowledge of which is essential to any man who would clearly develop the progress of our constitution,--the common law of England. He did not understand its stubborn immovable nature, its solid impregnable masonry, against which the ambitious violence of monarchs, and the fury of popular tumults raged in vain. From the day when Gascoigne committed Henry V. to prison, to that when surly tyrannical old Sir Edward Coke argued face to face with King James against the interference of the prerogative with the independent authority of his court, those who were the honest administrators of the common law held that they were no man's servants, and no man's masters, but the sworn expounders of a settled rule of action, which no power within the realm could sway. It might be full of strange conceits, of passages hard to determine, of unreasonable and often cruel rules: but what this oracle bade them, that were they bound to do, be the consequences what they might.

To a mere onlooker, this system appeared to be clumsy and barbarous, and unendowed with that philosophical symmetry which characterized the rival system of the civil law. It required that one should have a full knowledge of its massive structure, and passive power of resistance, to appreciate its value in a country where king, nobles, and common people, were alike characterized by party spirit, courage, and restless activity. A philosopher, indulging in a distant contemplation, would at once prefer the nice philosophical adaptation to the wants of a state, and the fine logical structure, with which a despotic power, able to manipulate the laws at its own will, had endowed the system of Justinian; and if he found that the administrators of the rude common law waged a determined war against this philosophical code, his contempt for the one, and his admiration of the other, would be likely to be increased. But there is no doubt that the advocates of the common law were right in resisting the introduction of the pliant principles of the civilians. If it be true that the common law, and the constitution which grew along with it, embodied no philosophical principle of liberty, it is also true that they embodied no philosophical principle of despotism, such as that which was ready made in the Justinian legislation. The theories of passive obedience, and the sacredness of the monarchical character, were strangers to it; and these doctrines, so attractive to those who profit by them, were introduced by the civilians. In presence of the unbending operation of the common law, and dependent on a surly suspicious parliament, the sovereign might yet, if he were a man of talent and courage, be very powerful and very tyrannical: but he had none of those attributes through which the ingenuity of the civilians had divested him of all the moral failings, so far as they were accompanied with the moral responsibilities of a human being. He was often a "most dread sovereign:" but it was for these novel doctrines, the fruit of the reading of the clergy and the ecclesiastical lawyers, to invest him with the attributes of "sacred majesty."

The supporters of the common law, and of the old popular rights, strove to keep the law above the king. Those who drew their constitutional principles from the civilians and canonists, desired to place the king above the law. They accomplished their object in name, but not in fact, by incorporating with the constitutional law those fictions, that the king never dies, is not responsible, does not require to appear by his attorney, suffers no laches, &c. But in reality the old principles which made the king merely the head of a community, all of whom were subjected to the law, substantially held its ground; for, in so far as the monarch was exempted from responsibilities, in the same proportion was he deprived of any powers which he could exercise otherwise than through a responsible minister.

There was in Hume a like want of appreciation of the value of parliamentary forms and privileges, and a corresponding indifference about their violation. He had not sufficiently studied the Journals of the Commons, and did not trace the rise and development of that system of procedure which has protected our own liberties, and afforded a model for the legislative assemblies of all free nations.[71:1] It was in the Long Parliament, and under the eye of the able men of business who then held the lead, that this noble system was brought to perfection; but the reader whose historical information is derived solely from Hume, knows little of its value. Thus unconscious of the practical importance of the rights and privileges of the English people, he did not sympathize with those who expected alarming consequences from their infringement. He involved those who put the protection of their legal rights to the issue of the sword, in the same contemptuous estimate with the fanatics whom he charged with convulsing the state about religious differences of no essential moment. In either case the event at issue was of so little importance in his estimation, that he had small charity for those who made it a vitally important concern.[72:1] But in all these matters we look back on Hume with the light of later times. To appreciate his services to constitutional history, we must, while we keep in view the successful labours of later inquirers, remember how little had been done by his predecessors. The old chroniclers, such as Hall and Holingshed, scarcely ever deign to descend from the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war, to mention constitutional matters; and perhaps, in an impartial estimate, it will be admitted that in the gradual progress towards a better appreciation of what is truly valuable in British history, no one writer has taken so great a stride as Hume.

FOOTNOTES:

[3:1] MS. R.S.E.

[5:1] MS. R.S.E.

[5:2] In a small book, called "Letters on Mr. Hume's History of Great Britain," Edinburgh, 1756, known to have been written by Daniel Macqueen, D.D., the chief object is to prove that Hume has not treated the Roman Catholic religion with sufficient severity, and to supply this defect in his History. In a few remarks at the end, however, Dr. Macqueen had the merit of suggesting many of the constitutional criticisms on Hume, which were afterwards followed out.

[6:1] A sketch of Hume's character and habits, in _The Edinburgh Magazine_ for 1802, professing to be by one who was personally acquainted with him, is discredited, by its containing a statement that he had joined the Roman Catholic Church when he was in France. The reader will remember that, almost from the moment of his setting foot on foreign soil, he censures the Roman Catholics, in his letters to his friends; and nothing could be mentioned more at variance with a known character, than this writer's assertion, which seems to rest on some imaginative parallel between the personal history of Hume and that of Gibbon. As the reader may desire to read the sketch thus condemned, and to judge for himself of its applicability to Hume, it is here given.

"ANECDOTES OF DAVID HUME, ESQ.

"_By one who personally knew him._