|
Hume, more than most men of
his time, is known by his books. His writings have this peculiar value,
that they shew the reader much of his individuality. He deals so largely
with the moral and religious life, in practical as well as in
philosophical aspects, that the pages reveal the man, whereas it often
happens that a man's writings are a veil, not infrequently a screen,
concealing the author.
When we pass from Hume's
literary efforts to his social life, the man is again revealed. By a
series of reflected pictures, vividly accurate, his image seems thrown
on a mirror. The social life appears broadly, and the large variety of
interest, notwithstanding his seclusion, often extends over long
periods. He is ' sociable, though he lives in solitude' (Burton, I., p.
226), M.S. Royal Society, Ed. One has only to name a selection of those
with whom he enjoyed the intimacy of friendship, in order to suggest the
biographical value of these friendships, and of the records of them
which survive. This will be obvious by mere reference to his friendship
with Adam Smith, who stands out prominently in the circle of chosen
companions; with Strahan, his publisher and literary adviser, to whom he
is drawn closer as the work of life advances; with Home, author of
Douglas, illustrating his generous interest in the literary success of
others; with Rousseau, resulting from his residence in Paris, in course
of which we see the tenderness and generous spirit of the man, though
all ends in vexatious failure; and his friendship with the Countess de
Boufflers, to whom he is attracted by her striking intellectual gifts,
and with whom he sympathises in her times of perplexity and adversity.
Intellectual ability in
all its phases finds a ready admiration. After that, he is attracted to
social life by his appreciation of social pleasantries, of unrestrained
talk on well-chosen themes, and of free banter, attended with jest which
has no bitterness in it,—a freedom dear to him, in accordance with the
customs of his country.
What he was in
disposition and tendency his friends had to accept; and for the most
part they found no great difficulty in maintaining regard for one who
had a large share of dogmatism in his conversation, without the
Johnsonian gruffness. From his early days to life's close, literary
ambition was the main-spring in his life ; next, there was in him, along
with love of truth, a strong critical spirit, rejoicing in suspense of
judgment and in doubt; and, along with these, an intense social
instinct, which to a man largely severed from family ties, brought, in
the unrestrained hours of leisure, the comfort and quietly stimulating
effects of social interest, with play of fancy and of feeling. These
things indicate how much Hume sought, and how much he gave, within the
privileged circle of chosen friends.
Edinburgh, the city of
his birth, continued to Hume the centre of attraction all his life
through, finding the town 1 the true scene for a man of letters.'
Ninewells was his retreat when study demanded seclusion. It was the home
centre while his mother lived ; it continued his cherished retreat after
his brother was owner, his sister-in-law at the head of her own family
circle, and his nephews were gathering the fresh associations of early
life. The circle attracted him, but the quietness of the place was an
allurement dear to a philosopher. But Edinburgh commanded his loyal
attachment throughout. It was the city of his abode, the centre of his
friendships. Whatever the inducements calling him away, he left it with
a grudge; when engagements elsewhere were closed, he always returned
with delightful anticipation of renewed enjoyment of his social
surroundings. Edinburgh was to Hume what it afterwards became to Robert
Louis Stevenson, though it was more a centre of lifelong friendships to
Hume than to Stevenson, who found in Samoa the attractive climate
favourable to one in feeble health.
Hume experienced no
serious discomfort in the cold of an Edinburgh winter and spring. He
could even write to a friend who was to occupy his house, that one of
the rooms in it was so comfortable that there was no need for a fire
there, even on a cold night. His native city was his chosen dwelling. He
had his earlier abode at different points in the historic line of street
from the Castle to Holyrood. Once in the Canon-gate, well down the line
towards the Palace, afterwards in the Lawnmarket in James's Court,
almost under the shadow of the Castle walls, in one of the high lands,
with grand prospect looking across the Firth of Forth to Fife. Latterly
he had his abode in the New Town, beyond the Nor' Loch, where he built a
house on the rising ground on which St Andrew Square now stands. A wag
wrote with chalk upon its wall, ' Saint David,' which being reported to
its owner, he replied, ' Many a better man has been made a saint.' The
name became a fixture, for the street is still known as St David Street.
At whatever point in it he fixed his dwelling, the city, its society,
and its surroundings concentrated the living interests of the
philosophic historian.
Only once did he hesitate
as to the place of his settled abode, but then the hesitation was
serious. It was when his duties as Secretary to the Embassy in Paris
came to a close. The attentions and flatteries lavished on him there
stood in strong contrast with the suspicions and condemnation which met
him in Edinburgh. ' Edinburgh has many objections and many allurements,'
he wrote. Quite seriously he thought of seeking some genial retreat in
France. Adam Smith remonstrated with him against such a choice, and
wrote to Millar, the bookseller, asking him to advise Hume against
separation from his life-long interests. ' He is light-headed, tell him,
when he talks of coming to spend the remainder of his days here (Paris)
or in France.' * Hume soon came to be of Smith's opinion, and decided
against settling in France, fearing that he should be drawn ' into
engagements with princes and great lords and ladies.' He returned to
Scotland. The good fortune of being nominated by Mr Conway to the
position of Under-Secretary of State transferred him to London for a
time, but there the power of the magnet in Edinburgh was felt as
strongly as before.
Among his friends the
most intimate was Adam Smith, the Kirkcaldy boy, twelve years his
junior, son of the Comptroller of Customs in the ' lang toun,' a Writer
to the Signet, and Judge Advocate Depute for Scotland. The historian and
the economist, afterwards author of The Wealth of Nations, became fast
friends. A biographer cannot write of the one without writing of the
other.
In early life Hume and
Smith dwelt remote from each other. Chirnside and Kirkcaldy were far
apart. Their intimacy did not come from boyhood years, but from their
early manhood, when Hume was author of the Treatise, and the younger man
a student at Glasgow University, having an eye on the ' Snell' Bursary,
which would open the way to Oxford. After Smith's return from Oxford he
was at Kirkcaldy from 1746 to 1748; Hume was then absent on the
Continent as Secretary to General St Clair when on his mission to the
Court of Turin. By the influence of Henry Home of Kames (afterwards Lord
Kames) and James Oswald of Dunkier, young Smith came to Edinburgh to
deliver a course of lectures on English Literature. This course was
largely attended by members of the bar, clergymen, and leading citizens.
These lectures were given throughout three successive winters, until the
lecturer was appointed Professor of Philosophy in the University of
Glasgow. Through the friendly intervention of Home and Oswald, Hume and
Smith became acquainted, and soon they were fast friends, sharing in a
multitude of literary, philosophic, and patriotic interests. They were
of opposite schools of politics— Hume Tory, Smith Liberal—but this was
no obstacle to deepest friendship. From this time there was laid the
foundation of a lifelong intimacy. So strong was the mutual attachment
that it was to Hume an additional attraction to the view from the high
windows in James's Court that it included Kirkcaldy, the dwelling-place
of Adam Smith, whilst Smith addressed Hume as ' My dearest friend.' In
his valuable Life of Adam Smith, Rae fitly names it'a memorable Roman
friendship ' (p. 105). When the end of life approached, and Hume
prepared his will, ' My friend, Dr Adam Smith, late Professor of Moral
Philosophy in Glasgow,' is named as literary executor to carry out his
most cherished desires.
From the first Hume
valued Smith as a profound and original thinker; Smith looked up to Hume
as one who had greatly influenced him by his Treatise in those days when
he, as junior, was only a student in Glasgow, under the teaching of
Hutchison, Professor of Moral Philosophy. That Hume was twelve years
older than his friend was a fact that did nothing to abate the frankness
of the elder, or the freedom of the younger. The two were born '
thinkers,' each finding the main occupation of his life in study of
abstract problems, and each finding in the other a cherished enthusiasm
for literature and philosophy. Both spent much time in silent thought;
both were noted for ' wealth of conversation' when in a chosen circle of
friends, though Smith was prone to silence at times; and each
appreciated the variety of powers belonging to the other. Hume's Essay
on the Balance of Trade seems to have arrested the attention of Adam
Smith, whose deep interest in questions of trade and commerce found
quickening here. Smith's bias makes it easy to understand how his
attention would be attracted by an argument against the tendency in
nations ' to prohibit the exportation of commodities.' How valuable must
have seemed to him its fundamental position. ' The more is exported of
any commodity, the more will be raised at home, of which they themselves
will always have the first offer.' This opened a wide range of common
interest. To this and to the more practical side of philosophy, Smith
was devoted ; he did not, however, enter with Hume's enthusi asm into
the speculative region. Smith was even steadily opposed to Hume's
publication of the Dialogues on Religion. Hume had an absorbing devotion
to the speculative problems, which led him towards sceptical rather than
positive conclusions.
In 1749 Hume returned
from the mission to Vienna and Turin; for two years thereafter he was at
Ninewells; in 1751 he came to Edinburgh, where the Librarianship of the
Advocates' Library opened the way to the preparation of the History. It
was at this juncture Smith was elected Professor of Logic in Glasgow.
The two were parted, just when the opportunity for regular interviews
seemed probable. Such, however, was their devotion to each other, that
Smith often came from Glasgow, though the journey in these days occupied
thirteen hours. Hume's house was Smith's abode at such times; the summer
recess brought to Smith the satisfaction of extended residence in
Edinburgh. Their friendship was constant; their co-operation in public
enterprise incessant. Smith was transferred to the Chair of Moral
Philosophy in 1752, when Hume became a candidate for the Chair of Logic,
but without success, since he had roused an adverse feeling which shewed
its strength as soon as he sought the position of a public teacher.
Smith is constrained to abandon hope of Hume's success; saying to
Professor Cullen:—' I would prefer David Hume to any man for the
College; but I am afraid the public would not be of my opinion.' Hume
had to retire from the conflict a defeated candidate.
Smith gave his interest
and effort to the advancement of education in the University of Glasgow,
and of literary taste in the city, finding there many willing
coadjutors. But it was in Edinburgh that the largest gathering of men
outside the University shewed unceasing resolution for advancement of
literature, philosophy, science and social organisation. There were Lord
Kames (Henry Home); his brother, John Home, minister of Athelstaneford,
author of Douglas; Adam Ferguson, Professor of Moral Philosophy; Gilbert
Elliot, M.P.; Sir David and Sir John Dalrymple; Robertson, Blair,
Alexander Carlyle, William Wilkie, minister of Ratho, and author of the
Epigoniad, with many more in the midst of whom Hume and Smith were
recognised as the most active and able. Hume with a ' strong and
capacious mind,' Smith with a practical sagacity which excelled that of
his senior. The three philosophers, David Hume, Adam Smith, and Adam
Ferguson had, in all literary circles, the deference to which their
distinctive writings entitled them.
On the proposal of Smith,
Hume was made a member of ' The Literary Society' of Glasgow. In
Edinburgh, Hume was Secretary to ' The Philosophical Society,'
afterwards merged in 'The Royal Society.' Smith was elected a member of
'The Philosophical' in 1752.
Smith was a leading
spirit in the formation of 'The Select Society' of Edinburgh,
constituted on the model of the ' French Academy,' and first proposed by
Oswald and Allan Ramsay. Adam Smith made the opening speech explanatory
of the objects and constitution. The Society at once gained favour, the
membership quickly rising from 15 members, the original number, to 130,
including the most illustrious names at a notable period in the history
of Scotland. The weekly debates maintained by the Society proved
animated and effective. Hume boasts of them that 'the House of Commons
was less the object of general curiosity to London than the Select
Society is to Edinburgh.' Here young advocates, ministers and literary
men, had an arena for distinction, and 'long drawling speakers found out
their want of talents.' The range of subjects was wide, chiefly
political and economic (Scots Magazine, xix., 163), the limits imposed
being indicated by exclusion of ' such as regard revealed religion, or
which may give occasion to vent any principles of Jacobitism.'
Out of this Society
originated the Edinburgh Society for encouraging art, science,
manufactures, and agriculture. In this movement, Hume and Smith had a
part, being placed together on the Committee for Belles-Lettres and
Criticism.
In the midst of these
manifold activities, a restless feeling was stirring in religious
circles on account of the unreserved sceptical bias of Hume's works.
Campbell {Lives of the Chancellors, vol. vi., 18) describes it as 'a
state of extraordinary ferment.' In 1755 Hume and Lord Kames were
threatened with a summons to appear before the General Assembly to give
account of their published views, and with possible ex-communication.
The mover (Anderson) was not influential but he was persistent, and, by
careful adherence to form, was able to put the machinery of the Supreme
Court of the Church in motion. Hume made light of it all, in his own
jaunty way; the member of the College of Justice was more disturbed.
They trusted to Robertson, the leader of the House, and to the young
advocate, Alexander Wedderburn, then rising into influence, to trace the
limits of reasonable ecclesiastical procedure, and to vindicate freedom
of thought in the field of literature. The anxiety of the two
authors—which appears strange to us—was not unnatural a century and a
half ago. Religious faith and feeling had encountered a rude shock from
the writings of Hume, and the age was one which gave to the Supreme
Court of the Church a wide dominion over all the subjects. A prudent
reserve was maintained in the exercise of ecclesiastical authority. The
majority of a court, which had dealt hardly with its own members in 1733
and 1752—when pleading in the interests of evangelical religion for the
rights of the people in election of their ministers—dealt more leniently
with the sceptic and with the speculative thinker on the bench, the
latter, indeed, being exempted from the more serious charges advanced.
Majorities had been found to depose Ebenezer Erskine and his companions,
and also Thomas Gillespie, a few years afterwards, for refusing to share
in the induction of ministers presented by the patron but rejected by
the people. But when the Assembly were asked ' to call before them' '
one person styling himself David Hume, Esq., who hath arrived at such a
degree of boldness as to avow himself the author of books containing the
most rude and open attacks on the glorious gospel of Christ,' they
declined to exercise their authority—refused to examine his books and to
pronounce a formal decision upon them —making in this a beginning in the
recognition of that liberty to think and to publish according to
conviction, which we now value and deem essential to true progress in
thought. But in these days ' the ferment' was serious. The force of
religious antagonism to Hume was such that his friend Smith hesitated to
associate Hume with other writers in a literary adventure of the
time—the institution of the Edinburgh Review, in anticipation of the
famous Journal which, under the guidance of Jeffrey, afterwards appeared
under the familiar title. The young advocate, just referred to as the
defender of Hume in the Assembly, was the Editor of the Edinburgh Review
of 1755, a young man of high ability and vast energy, who afterwards
rose to be Lord High Chancellor of England, and became Earl of Rosslyn.
On the staff of writers there were Adam Smith, Robertson and Blair—all
the familiar friends of Hume. The religious antipathy stirring so
strongly against him seems to have induced them to hesitate to include
him on the staff, and they kept from him the information as to their
plans. The object of the Edinburgh Review was 'to shew men at this
particular stage of the country's progress the gradual advance of
science would be a means of inciting them to a more eager pursuit of
learning, to distinguish themselves, and to do honour to their country.'
The bare suspicion that Hume was directly concerned in the venture went
against its chances of success, and the Review did not get beyond its
second number, published January 1756. In 1818, Sir James Mackintosh
republished the two numbers, as containing ' the first printed writings
of Adam Smith and Robertson, and the only known publication of Lord
Chancellor Rosslyn ' (Alexander Wedderburn). In his preface to the
republication given in Mackintosh's works, vol. ii., p. 470, Sir James
says that 'the temper of the people of Scotland was at that moment
peculiarly jealous in every question that approached the boundaries of
theology' (p- 473)- Unfortunately the projectors did not feel that their
craft was trimmed and manned to face the storm. The Edinburgh Review
disappeared, its name reserved for the later and better venture planned
in Buccleuch Place by Jeffrey and others in 1802. Hume was too well
aware of the antagonism he had roused, the result of acting as one '
desirous of being hated by the public,' to be offended by his exclusion,
when the secret came out.
In 1758 Hume made a
vigorous effort to get Smith to Edinburgh, as successor to Professor
Abercromby in the Chair of Public Law; but Smith declined to think of
it, and continued other five years in Glasgow University. The two
continued in co-operation exactly as if Edinburgh had been the place of
residence for both. Their next joint effort was in a political movement
for the advance of their country. The Jacobite rebellion had left in
England a sense of distrust of the Scotch, the manifestation of which,
in the rejection in 1760 of a Bill for a Scotch militia. The irritation
occasioned in Scotland led to the formation of 'The Edinburgh Poker Club
'in 1762. This was a convivial club, with a definite political purpose,—
' the poker' being the symbol of a purpose to stir the fire of agitation
against the action of Parliament, and the English prejudices which
sustained it in the course taken. The declared object of the Club was to
obtain greater security ' for the freedom and independence of these
islands.' Hume, Smith and Ferguson were members of the ' Poker,' the
words quoted being those of the philosopher last named. Gradually the
favour for a standing army extended throughout the nation, and when in
1776 the Scotch Militia Bill of Lord Montstuart was introduced, there
was much less complaint over it, even though a militia was granted to
Ireland, while it was refused to Scotland.
Shortly after the
founding of 'The Poker Club,' Hume had gone to Paris, as Secretary to
Lord Hertford, British Ambassador. Hume left hurriedly, and had time
only to send to Smith a word of explanation. Smith had been pleading
with Hume to visit Glasgow, and Hume, in a vein of pleasantry, in March
1763, writes:—'You maybe sure a journey to Glasgow will be one of the
first I shall undertake. I intend to require with great strictness an
account of how you have been employing your leisure, and I desire you to
be ready for that purpose. Woe be to you if the balance be against you.'
By the month of August Hume wrote to tell of his departure for Paris. '
I am a little hurried in my preparations, but I could not depart without
bidding you adieu, my good friend, and without acquainting you with the
reasons of so sudden a movement.' He closes the letter saying—' We may
meet abroad, which will be a great satisfaction to me.' This meeting
came sooner than either expected. When Hume had reached Paris, his first
letter was to Smith, telling how he had ' suffered as much flattery as
almost any man has ever done in the same time,' and he tells him that,
under the eye of the Baron d'Holbach, there is one engaged in
translating his Theory of Moral Sentiments. In the following October
(1763), Smith received a letter proposing that he should accompany the
young Duke of Buccleuch, then at Eton, on a continental tour, in course
of which education might be blended with travel and relaxation, offering
the philosopher ^300 a year while so engaged, and ^300 a year for life
thereafter. The Professor accepted, resigned his Moral Philosophy Chair,
and turned his face for the first time to the Continent, with the Duke
of Buccleuch, and his companion, Sir James Macdonald of Sleat. ' Sir
James was heir of the old Lords of the Isles, and son of the lady who,
with her factor, Kingsburgh, harboured Prince Charles and Flora
Macdonald in Skye' (Rae, Life of Adam Smith, p. 174). The travellers
reached Paris in February of 1764, when, during a stay of ten days, most
of Smith's time was spent in the company of Hume. Thereafter the time of
the Duke of Buccleuch was spent in Toulouse, Bordeaux, and Montpelier.
Afterwards he and his tutor came to Geneva, where Smith made the
acquaintance of Voltaire, for whose literary ability he had a high
admiration. In course of the residence at the different places selected,
Smith had much time on his hand. On 5th July 1764, he writes to Hume:—'
The life which I led at Glasgow was a pleasurable, dissipated life in
comparison of that which I lead here at present. I have begun to write a
book, in order to pass away the time.' This is the first reference to
the writing of the Wealth of Nations. When the travellers returned to
Paris in 1765, Hume had lost his position at the Embassy, and was
preparing for his departure, when Rousseau was to go with him to
England. Smith's arrival in Paris at this juncture gave opportunity for
again spending several days with Hume.
It was not till 1776, the
year of Hume's death, that Adam Smith published the Wealth of Nations.
Hume took a warm interest in the success of the book, as he had done in
the Theory of Moral Sentiments. He wrote his friend expressing in
warmest terms his admiration of the book. * It has depth, and solidity,
and acuteness, and is so much illustrated by curious facts, that it must
at last attract the public attention.' Gibbon, in a letter to Adam
Ferguson, described it as ' an extensive science in a single book.' The
work arrested public attention in a large degree, commanded careful
study from many distinguished parliamentary leaders, supplied the
educational influence which prepared for the Free-Trade policy adopted
in the mother country of all the English speaking nations, and was
accepted as a classic in the literature of Political Science. Hume
begins his letter to the author :—' Euge ! Belle !— Dear Mr Smith,—I am
much pleased with your performance.' The words were written only a few
months before the pen dropped from the writer's hand,—a pen wielded
powerfully when arguing for removal of commercial restrictions, pleading
for ' that free communication and exchange, which the author of the
world has intended by giving them soils, climates, and genuises, so
different from each other.'
One cannot tell of Hume's
friendships without noting the warm interest manifested by him in the
literary labours and successes of his compeers. Whether we refer to Adam
Smith, or to Robertson, or to John Home, author of Douglas, we find
evidence of his generous admiration and joy in their success. To this
must be added his resolute efforts to help forward young aspirants,
unknown in literary circles, or battling with difficulties. Witness his
efforts for Thomas Blacklock, the blind poet, residing in Dumfries, by
whose ' gentle sensitive character and hard fate' he was greatly moved.
For ' the son of a poor tradesman' he made strong efforts to clear the
way, esteeming as a young man ' of modesty, virtue, and goodness, as
well as of genius;' and one who, ' notwithstanding very strict
frugality, is in great necessities.' To Blacklock he for a time gave the
salary which came to him for his duties at the Advocates' Library, when,
having quarrelled with the committee of management, he was preparing for
resignation. Another example of enthusiastic effort, in which, however,
his goodness of heart outran his caution, is presented in his
introduction of Macpherson with his professed 'Ossian' manuscripts to
the literary circles of London. Johnson suspected deception from the
first, and expressed his disdain in one of his usual outbursts. But Hume
did not easily relax his interest, and feeling some pride in the proof
of poetic gift among the Highlanders of Scotland, stuck to his protdgd,
till doubts came to disturb his own confidence and to weaken his zeal.
When Hume was suddenly
transferred to the British Embassy at Paris a quite new social
experience opened to him. After being presented at Court, he was, as we
have seen, welcomed to the literary gatherings of the French metropolis.
He was delighted to find himself in a city where literary merit gave a
free pass to the best society, and he was naturally elated by the
reception extended to him. Sceptical tendencies presented no barriers,
and awakened neither suspicions nor aversions. He was flattered even in
little set speeches which struck him as novel; he was ' lionised '; and
became noted as ' the Great David.' For a season, he passed through a
round of gaiety, not altogether favourable to friendship in its best
sense. Only slowly did he succeed in reaching the literary men of Paris
in their more familiar gatherings. But at length he secured the
friendship of many of the most conspicuous of them, although the duties
of his office made it needful to give his chief attention to ' society,'
where Court influences could be best considered, and the requirements of
an ambassador could be best served.
In Parisian circles, he
met a scepticism which outstretched the utmost length of his expressed
doubts. On one occasion in Edinburgh he was saluted by a brilliant lady
as a Deist, and resented the suggestion, saying that he had no desire to
be regarded in this light. On another occasion in Paris, when dining
with the Baron d'Holbach, Hume said to his host that he ' had not seen
an Atheist, and did not believe that there was one,' to which the Baron
replied, ' you are here at table with seventeen.' Hume learned to
respect many of these men, but his acquaintance did not induce him to
change his deliberately expressed judgment which he was at pains to have
published—'Surely nothing can afford a stronger presumption that any set
of principles are true, and ought to be embraced, than to observe that
they tend to the confirmation of true religion, and serve to confound
the cavils of Atheists, Libertines, and Free-thinkers of all
denominations.
In Paris, Hume soon
became a recognised favourite among the ladies who reigned over the
salons where literary men mingled with ladies and gentlemen of high
rank. He gained the acquaintance of all these guides of fashion, and his
presence was eagerly desired when their invitations were issued. This
arose out of the unbounded good humour of the man, his ready delight in
the pleasantries of good society, and his willingness, after his first
shyness was over, to contribute to the glancing mirth which gave zest to
the evening. Out of this sprung also not a few valued friendships; such
as come from more serious lines of thought, and common interest in
subjects of careful study. Of these the best example appears in his
friendship with the Countess de Boufflers. Among the favourites of
Court, he found not a few ladies who were ' great readers,' having at
the same time ' great sense and an agreeable conversation,' but the
Countess de Bouffiers shewed deep interest in his own works, and in all
the questions philosophical and political which engrossed his thoughts.
Their correspondence, of which a large selection is published, shews the
breadth of interest she felt in the great problems of life. Their
earlier letters concern largely the persons holding prominent positions,
and the books which merited careful study. At a later period the
Countess came to make Hume more of a confidant who would feel some
direct interest in her ambitions, and, even more certainly, some
compassion for her in her disappointments and trials. The Count de
Boufflers does not seem to have concerned himself much with the gaieties
of his wife. She, feeling the lurements of a gay court, was drawn into
intrigue and into clandestine relations with the Prince of Conti which
were at first only faintly veiled, and were afterwards accounted as
affording a basis for social distinction. After the death of the Count
she cherished the further ambitious hope of finding her place as a
member of the royal family. The doubts and fears of that dark, silent,
restless season, when hope and fear contended with each other, and were
constantly supplanting each other, were freely communicated to Hume, and
this in manner which touched his compassion, bringing his sympathy into
active exercise, in the midst of such opportunities as his official
position afforded. Writing on 28th November 1764, he assures her that he
has kept ' eyes and ears open with regard to everything that concerns
her affair.' He even goes so far as to report from ' the best informed '
an impression ' that a resolution had been taken in her favour,' fanning
the flame of ambition soon to be damped and to die out. Such a
friendship was not to be lost sight of; the Countess clung to it with
great confidence ; and, even after hope had been displaced by the
bitterness of disappointment, she received gratefully Hume's counsel as
coming from one who had expressed deep compassion for her ' in her
present melancholy situation,' when having been seemingly brought '
within reach of honour and felicity,' she is slowly but surely being
lowered into overwhelming dismay. Then he counsels courage, and the firm
resolution of one who has nerved herself for the supreme effort of
breaking off an alliance which is closing in sword-thrusts, endangering
to health, and fatal to the peace and hope of an honourable life. With a
feeling altogether suitable to the occasion, he writes—' The measure
which I recommend to you requires courage, but I dread that nothing else
will be able to prevent the consequences so justly apprehended' (Private
Corr. of D. Hutne, published 1820, p. 112 ; Burton, II., p. 249). So
much did the Countess in the calmer hours of later years value the
friendship of so faithful yet sympathetic a counsellor, that
correspondence was maintained by her after Hume had finally returned to
his own land. She even became in turn a truly sympathetic friend of the
Scottish philosopher when disaster fell on his relations with Rousseau
(Private Correspondence, cf. p. 171, p. r86).
To Voltaire and Rousseau,
the literary rivals dividing the honours of the day, Hume was naturally
attracted on account of their conspicuous ability. His interest in them
was further quickened by his own intellectual bias in favour of a
sceptical tendency. He felt besides, notwithstanding the reckless
extravagance of their writings, that a service was being done in a very
rude manner, and too often in a blasphemous spirit in breaking up the
dominion of evil traditions, and preparing the way for the freedom and
breadth of thought which must be the conditions of progress.
Hume never came into
close friendship with Voltaire. From his private correspondence it is
clear that he had a great admiration of ' the many fine things' in
Voltaire's writings. But circumstances did not favour close intimacy.
Hume was, indeed, in thorough agreement with Voltaire in his antagonism
to the Church of Rome, because of its fostering of superstition among
the people, licentiousness among the priests, and intolerance towards
all who valued freedom of thought. To this extent the two were in full
sympathy. But Hume had learned at an early stage in his experience as a
servant of the British Crown, that Voltaire was reckless and virulent in
assault, and relentless in spirit. Hume's judgment was this :—' He never
forgives, and never thinks any enemy below his notice' (Burton, II.,
195). Yet, when Hume found himself rising into general popularity in
France, he felt it desirable to seek somewhat friendly relations with
Voltaire. In a letter to Colonel Edmonstoune, written from Paris on 9th
January 1764, he says, ' when I arrived in Paris all M. Voltaire's
friends told me of the regard he always expressed for me; that some
advances on my part were due to his age, and would be well taken. I
accordingly wrote him a letter in which I expressed the esteem undoubted
due to his talents ; and among other things I said that if I were not
confined to Paris by public business, I should have a great ambition to
pay him a visit at Geneva' (Burton, II., 184). But no great intimacy
sprung up between them. Geneva was too far distant from Paris; Hume was
too closely held by the demands of his secretarial duties; and they do
not seem to have met. There was, however, mutual interest and regard
which found occasional expression. When the outburst of Rousseau's wrath
brought Hume into serious trouble, Voltaire wrote a letter, dated Ferney,
24th October 1766, to express his sympathy, mingled with ready sarcasm
directed against Rousseau (Voltaire's CEuvres, ed. 1789, lxiv., 49s ;
Burton, II., 358).
With Rousseau, Hume came
into close and most friendly relations, attracted not only by his
brilliant gifts, but also by compassion for his many sorrows, and
specially by sympathy of most direct and active form when persecution
threatened him with loss of liberty. Rousseau had enjoyed at an earlier
stage a period of quiet peaceful experience when he found satisfaction
in literary work. This was the Montmorency period, when he enjoyed the
friendly and generous interest of the Duke and Duchess of Luxembourg,
and had the satisfaction of meeting many of the highest rank in France.
But when Hume came to know him, Rousseau had fallen on evil times. A
trying combination of circumstances made his life miserable. He was as
much as ever the brilliant writer, the flashes of whose wit and genius
delighted his countrymen; but the author was wretched, as one driven to
bay and tormented. This bitter experience was largely due to his own
lack of self-control. He had the sad inheritance of an excitable nervous
temperament inducing miserable recklessness; his domestic life did
nothing to soothe or elevate daily experience; his own self-indulgent
irresolute spirit constantly aggravated his troubles. Many in high rank
did much to abate his sorrows; but the rulers of the nation suspected
his evil influence, and threatened him with condign restraint; while
popular applause brought occasional relief and brightness, it could not
bring deliverance from the growing burden of life. He grew increasingly
irritable, suspicious, and miserable; this evil spirit of unrest was
aggravated by sarcasm levelled against his vanity, and by practical
jokes, the worst of which was perpetrated by Horace Walpole who wrote
him a letter of large promise assuming the semblance and signature of
the Great Frederick of Prussia. Rousseau was maddened by these things,
and was gradually moving on a dangerous incline towards insanity.
Hume proved a
warm-hearted generous friend who stood by Rousseau in these days of
trouble. Hume's sympathy soothed the fevered brain, irritated by
miseries, real and imaginary, and it animated the disturbed life by
inspiring fresh hope. The Scotchman who had thought of forsaking his own
country in order to settle in France, became the adviser of the French
litterateur counselling withdrawal from his country, and promising a
safe retreat in England. He, who gave the counsel, was ready to
undertake guidance and responsibility. So it happened that when Hume's
time for leaving France had come, at the close of 1765, Rousseau had
arrived in Paris to act in accordance with his friend's suggestion, and,
as it happened, to travel with him to England. He had in Hume a true
friend whose feelings were thus expressed, ' I must own I felt on this
occasion an emotion of pity, mixed with indignation, to think a man of
letters of such eminent merit should be reduced in spite of the
simplicity of his manner of living to such extreme indigence; and that
this unhappy state should be rendered more intolerable by sickness, by
the approach of old age, and the implacable rage of persecution'
(Burton, II., 296). To his burdened life the prospect of an English home
seemed an escape from a load of woe. He arrived in Paris a marked man,
outlawed by Parliament, yet sheltered by the Prince of Conti, strange in
appearance, wearing an American dress, dreaded by the ruling
authorities, idolised by the people who were moving towards their own
paroxysm of madness. When the popular enthusiasm was roused it began to
overflow in tumultuous fashion, involving the retiring secretary of the
British Embassy in a situation not the most comfortable. Escape from it
was agreeable to Rousseau himself as well as to Hume, and early in
January 1766, the now miserable object of popular admiration, passes
away from the view of the excited Parisians, under the friendly guidance
of ' the Great David.' Hume's judgment of his unfortunate protdgd is
very favourable, and his compassion for him deep. ' I find him mild and
gentle, and modest and good humoured '; ' his judgment and affections
are as strongly biassed in my favour as mine are in his.' Those who knew
well the characteristics of the author of Emile warned Hume that he '
could not conduct him to Calais without a quarrel.' But the warm-hearted
friend discredited such evil prognostications, and writes—' I think I
could live with him all my life in mutual friendship and esteem. I am
very sorry that the matter is not likely to be put to trial!' (Burton,
II., 310).
These two fast friends
arrived in London in safety. Rousseau became the object of popular
interest, and was welcomed by many of high rank. By the intervention of
Hume, he received a pension from the King, and besides this, Hume
succeeded in awakening a lively interest in the French genius in the
heart of his friend, Mr Davenport of Davenport, who generously placed at
Rousseau's command as a dwelling, ' the mansion of Wooton, in
Derbyshire, surrounded by scenery not unlike that which he had left
behind him in the Jura.' All was accomplished that Hume had
foreshadowed, and in a manner as exact as if the whole had been arranged
in the routine of ordinary business, with resources ample. If
surroundings can make the future, all is in proper course. But Rousseau
is only a silent volcano; woe betide all concerned when the lava bursts
forth! A favourable retreat has been found for the great genius, before
whom 'Voltaire and everybody else are quite eclipsed.' Hume had reason
to be proud of his success, as the friend who had cleared the way out of
a forest of troubles. But what of the restless, tumultuous nature in
'the mansion of Wooton,' accustomed to outbursts of popular applause,
and also to deep and troubled brooding over his miseries? He is an utter
stranger in the land, comparatively unfamiliar with the language of the
people around, who did not at all understand him. He begins to feel
himself as one banished from his own land, a dead ocean all around him,
and not even a ripple of applause breaking at his feet, not a sound of
sympathy falling on his ear. He is a man withal who ' writes and speaks,
and acts from the impulse of genius, and who forgets its force when it
is laid asleep,' weaker then than common mortals, quickly roused to
jealousy and suspicion, the victim of distorted fancies; feeling now as
one chilled by heartless neglect, and again wincing under acute pain as
one who has been scourged with scorpions. What is a quiet dwelling? what
is a peaceful neighbourhood to him? Who is Hume that he should shape his
cause, and arrange for him in all things, as if he were incapable? What
is the pension of the King of Britain to an illustrious Frenchman? Hume,
his professed friend, is a traitor, in secret collusion with all his
foes who mock at his calamities. As for himself, he has been deluded,
caught like a fox in a trap, and appointed to death. If he has as much
strength in him as to make an effort, he will effect his escape, and
pass away from the gaze of the English eye, and the control of English
hands. Suddenly he takes to flight, as if all were reality, his wrath
blazing specially against Hume. He flees from place to place; writes
from a halting place to the general commanding the forces to warn him
that if he be secretly assassinated, the deed will be found out; but if
he is allowed to escape, and lands once more on French soil, he will be
forgiving, and will not publish an account of the wrongs perfidious
Albion has done to one of France's most notable sons.
To Hume the occurrence
was matter of overwhelming concern; when Rousseau's angry denunciations
came to him, he was stung to the quick, and resented them with fiery
indignation as if they were the words of a sane man. Even after the
flight had been traced stage by stage, after the extravagant fears of
the wanderer were known, Hume could not be calm—could not take the
advice of Adam Smith, to write nothing. He retorts with unrestrained
indignation to Rousseau. He is so disturbed that he writes in all
directions to friends at home, and to friends in France, to vindicate
himself from the charge of false-heartedness. The large mass of
correspondence in possession of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, shews
how deeply and sorely he was troubled, as if all that he held dear had
been suddenly wrenched from his grasp, leaving him a suspected, if not a
discredited man. One needs to remember how deeply, and very tenderly,
Hume had felt in his sympathy for Rousseau; and, on the other hand, how
much the occurrence had become the theme of continued remark in society,
British and French; in order to understand the tumult of disturbed
feeling rushing through the heart of Hume. The quiet, strong words of a
true and sagacious friend were lost upon him. He felt as one feels who
thinks and feels and repeats that he ' does well to be angry.'
The worst storm stills at
length. The friends irritated and alienated, if they could not be
reconciled, grew calm, and took in the situation. The enmity between
them was a bitter experience for both, leaving pitiful wreckage along
the shore. This is the expression of quieter reflection which Rousseau
penned:—' My soul, wearied with so many shocks, was in a condition of
such profound melancholy, that in all that passed I believe I committed
many faults.' Hume proves equally ready to acknowledge his regret to
Adam Smith, on 17th October 1767, saying, after a review of the
occurrence :—' I may apologise for a step, which you, and even myself,
have been inclined sometimes to blame, and always to regret' (M.S.,
R.S.E.—Burton, II., 380).
Hume once more, though
only for a brief period, passed into the service of Government. In
February 1767, Mt Conway nominated him as Under-Secretary, in which
office he continued until the change of Government in July 1768. Hume
was assigned to the Northern Province, under which were included our
relations with Prussia, Russia, Austria, Hamburg and Brussels. At this
time he must besides have had much to say as to
Scotch affairs. Of this
time he says :—' My way of life here is very uniform, and by no means
disagreeable. I pass all the forenoon in the Secretary's house from ten
till three, where there arrive from time to time messengers that bring
me all the secrets of the Kingdom, and indeed of Europe, Asia, Africa
and America.' ' My Chief is the most reasonable, equal tempered, and
gentleman-like man imaginable.' With change of Government he passed from
his agreeable post, and prepared to return to Edinburgh, there to spend
the remainder of his days. He says in My Own Life 'I returned to
Edinburgh in 1769, very opulent (for I possessed a revenue of 1000
a-year), healthy, and though somewhat stricken in years, with the
prospect of enjoying long my ease, and of seeing the increase of my
reputation.' He was now nearly sixty years of age. He entered again on
occupancy of his familiar home in St James's Court, in the Lawnmarket;
and from his lofty perch, looking across the Firth of Forth to the Fife
Coast, he writes to Adam Smith :— 'I am glad to have come within sight
of you, and to have a view of Kirkcaldy from my windows.' He forthwith
settled quietly into his familiar ways; shortly afterwards, writing to
Sir Gilbert Elliot, he says:—' I have been settled here two months, and
am here body and soul, without casting the least thought of regret to
London, or even to Paris.' He continued in the old house for about a
year, while the building of his new house was being carried forward,
after which he removed to his home, at the head of St David Street,
where he spent his few remaining years—where, when inroads of disease
had brought him low, he had his last dinnerparty of friends on the day
after his return from Bath, and where he died only a few weeks
thereafter. These closing years were spent very pleasantly in the midst
of the circle of familiar friends. He did not continue to write letters
so freely as he had been wont to do; but his interest in the whole
circle of philosophical, historical, and political questions continued
lively and keen as in the earlier years; and he enjoyed, with all the
well-known zest, unrestrained talk and discussion among familiar
friends.
In the early part of
1775, Hume began to own that some sense of failing health had crept over
him, and had been growing for several years previously. Disease had not
yet assumed definite form, but constitutional predisposition was
preparing the way. He noted this as a warning of the coming end, and now
began to include in his plans arrangements preparatory. He placed
himself under the care of his medical adviser, Dr Black, who took a
serious view of his complaint; he prepared instructions as to disposal
of his papers, specially expressing solicitude as to the publication of
the Dialogues Concerning Religion, and carried through a considerable
correspondence on this matter, when his friend Adam Smith indicated
reluctance to pledge himself to carry out his purpose.
Between the spring of
1775 and that of the following year the disease had made considerable
progress. Hume writes thus in My Own Life as to this period, considering
his disorder had ' become mortal and incurable.' ' I now reckon on a
speedy dissolution. I have suffered very little pain from my disorder;
and, what is more strange, have, notwithstanding the great decline of my
person, never suffered a moment's abatement of my spirits; insomuch that
were I to name the period of my life which I should most choose to pass
over again, I might be tempted to point to this latter period. I possess
the same ardour as ever in study, and the same gaiety in company. I
consider, besides, that a man of sixty-five, by dying cuts off only a
few years of infirmities; and though I see many symptoms of my literary
reputation's breaking out at last with additional lustre, I know that I
could have but few years to enjoy it. It is difficult to be more
detached from life than I am at present.'
When in April 1776
symptoms of rapidly declining strength had appeared, Dr Black wrote to
Adam Smith, who was then in London, where also John Home was, urging him
to come to Edinburgh. ' I wish, if possible, to hasten your coming, that
he may have the comfort of your company so much the sooner.' Adam
Ferguson wrote to the same effect, saying,—' David, I am afraid, loses
ground.' Smith and Home set off together about the middle of April,
hoping to meet the doctor's wishes, and give some comfort in the closing
days. At the same time, a reverse course was planned by Hume, on account
of the suggestion that a visit to Bath might prove beneficial. His
Autobiography had been finished just two days, when he wrote to Strahan,
20th April 1776,—'My body sets out to-morrow by post for London; but
whether it will arrive there is somewhat uncertain. I shall travel by
slow journeys. Last Monday I sent off by the waggon, directed to Mr
Cadel, the four last volumes of my History. I bring up my philosophical
Pieces corrected, which will be safe, whether I die by the road or not'
(Letters to Strahan, G. B. Hill, p. 319).
Very fortunately for the
invalid traveller, his two friends, Adam Smith and John Home, met him at
Morpeth, where they saw ' his servant, Colin, at the gate of the inn.'
They had reached their friend sooner than they had expected, and spent
the night with him. Adam Smith there received tidings of the serious
illness of his mother, and had to hasten forward to Kirkcaldy. John Home
went with Hume, going by Durham, Darlington, Boroughbridge,
Northallerton, and Ferrybridge. After resting at London, he proceeded to
Bath, where during the first four days he seemed to improve, but he soon
relapsed to the former condition, when he resolved on the return
journey, arriving in Edinburgh in the beginning of July.
In August, Adam Smith
writes, ' 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.'
Hume himself, five days
before his death, writing to the Comtesse de Boufflers, says:—' I see
death approach gradually, without any anxiety or regret.'
On the 23rd August he
writes to Smith, who had gone to Kirkcaldy :—' 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.'
The letter from the
doctor is dated ' Edinburgh, 26th August 1776' (Burton, II., p. 515),
and runs as follows :—
'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 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. . . .
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.' |
