Hume had taken his place in
the literature of his country and of the world. He himself, however, was
depressed with sense of failure, for he says, 'Never was literary
attempt more unfortunate than my Treatise of Human Nature.' He felt
disappointed that it did not even 'excite a murmur among the zealots.'
His power had been concentrated to the utmost, but renown did not come
to him, as he had anticipated. What he could do in philosophic thought
was accomplished, and he was convinced that the writing was not of
slight significance; but the reading public did not know what had been
done—his contribution was not of the character to attract readers. He
was dispirited, in consequence, but he was not turned aside from his
'plan of life.' He says, 'In the end of 1738, I published my treatise,
and immediately went down to my mother and my brother, who lived at his
country house.' Here the thinker is once more lost to view,
concentrating on fresh effort, of which the world was to learn
by-and-by. ' Being naturally of a cheerful and sanguine temper,' he
adds, ' I very soon recovered the blow, and prosecuted, with great
ardour, my studies in the country.'
Henceforth, this retired
student has his place among the literary men of Scotland. He is a man of
massive figure, stout in build, with rounded, ruddy countenance, not of
marked expression—this lack being often remarked upon when he becomes a
conspicuous figure in the society of Paris. The lack described was, in
part, the effect of the concentrated abstraction which engrossed his
life through long periods of work. In other moods, overflowing humour
shines through the placid countenance. Reminiscences and portraits
support these diverse representations. A portrait of him in early life,
in possession of the University of Edinburgh, shews him in a less
matured stage than portraits more familiar. In the National Gallery of
Scotland there is a good picture of him, in scarlet tunic, such as he
donned when Secretary of the Military Legation at Vienna and Turin—a red
coat which, report says, did not give him the approved military air.
Over against this picture in the Scottish Gallery is hung a portrait of
Rousseau, enabling visitors to compare the faces of these literary
celebrities, once fast friends, afterwards bitter foes. Of the two
portraits in Hill Burton's Life, that in the first volume is from the
medallion by Tassie—a thoughtful, rather heavy, face, with wig obscuring
the individuality of the subject. That in the second volume is from a
bust, and is somewhat startling at first. It must be at fault in its
proportions; but it presents a strong face, exhibiting much more of the
recognised ability of the philosopher than other portraits do. It
suggests the intellectual power and the commanding force which were
noted characteristics of the man.
In nature, in habits, and
in all mental associations, Hume was intensely Scotch. Indeed, the
strength of national bias, intensified by existing jealousies between
the united countries, tempted even a man of philosophic spirit to
cherish antagonism to the English people and to English ways, the
unrestrained expression of which surprises us at this distance of time
(Hill, Letters, p. 56-64). He found delight in the rural life of
Berwickshire, and took kindly to the vernacular heard all around, but
was specially attracted to the literary circles of the Scottish capital.
He was happy in the practice of economy—doing his work bravely as many
had done before him, ' A man of punctual habits, and of unwearied
industry.' He was proud of Scotland as 'a country where the avenues to
learning are easy.' To his friend, Michael Ramsay, the philosopher thus
describes his position at forty years of age:—' While interest remains
as at present, I have £50 a year, a hundred pounds' worth of books,
great store of linens and fine clothes, and near £100 in my pocket;
along with order, frugality, a strong spirit of independency, good
health, a contented humour, and an unabating love of study. In these
circumstances I must esteem myself one of the happy and fortunate; and
so far from being willing to draw my ticket over again in the lottery of
life, there are very few prizes with which I would make an exchange'
(Hill Burton, I., 342).
In conversation, his
native Doric was marked, so that 'the broadest Scotch accent' is
attributed to him. So attached was he to his native land that we find
him expressing his determination ' never more to set his foot out of
it.' When writing for the press, it continued matter of serious trouble
to him that his Scotticisms often were allowed to pass unchecked. In
this matter he owns his dependence on Strahan, his publisher. Thus he
says, 'If you have leisure to peruse the sheets, and to mark on the
margin any corrections that occur to you, it will be an addition to the
many obligations of the same kind I owe to you' (Letters to Strahan, p.
2T3). For the same reason, he seeks to have the help of Mallet (lb., p.
7), and in writing to Wilkes, he says—'Notwithstanding all the pains I
have taken in the study of the English language, I am still jealous of
my pen' {lb., p. 8).
In some of his familiar
letters written to intimate friends, Hume's humour is singularly
unrestrained. Dr Birkbeck Hill, in editing the letters to Strahan, for
the publication of which the nation is certainly indebted to the
generous liberality of Lord Rosebery, quite misunderstands the
significance of a letter. Misled in this way, Hill misinterprets the
author so seriously as to charge Hume ' with a levity which is only
found in a man who is indifferent to strict truthfulness' {Preface, p.
8). This surprising judgment is passed, oddly enough, because Hume
resents having been deceived. Strahan replied with indignation to Hume's
complaint; and Hume was not the man to be surprised, when one remembers
his own indignation at Rousseau's charges against him. How Hume
afterwards felt because of this temporary estrangement from Strahan, is
stated in a manner which indicates anything but levity. (Letter 7r, p.
270), 'I do not remember any incident of my life, that has given me more
real concern, than your misapprehension.' Nothing could be further from
accuracy of representation than to speak of Hume as ' indifferent to
truthfulness.' This is only one of several hasty judgments passed by Dr
G. B.
Hill, from
misapprehension of the passionate and the humorous in Hume's nature. Dr
Hill has fulfilled his part as an editor with a wealth of scholarship
which calls forth admiration; but once or twice he has singularly failed
to catch the author's meaning.
The characteristics of
the times in which Hume lived should have full weight on our judgments
of him, but they need not have more than a brief sketch. The union of
Scotland with England was an event of recent occurrence. Considerable
jealousy still existed between the two countries, the Scotch thinking
themselves neglected or unfairly treated; the English feeling irritated
by any civil appointments given to Scotchmen. There was, however,
growing up in Scotland, a desire to acquire an accurate English style in
written composition, and also to become familiar with the best English
authors. A large measure of literary ability was appearing in Scotland;
a jovial spirit characterised even literary gatherings. Hume felt
attracted to Edinburgh, where he had free intercourse with the noted
literati, besides maintaining correspondence and occasional intercourse
with the leading men of Glasgow. The more prominent of his literary
friends were Adam Smith, author of The Wealth of Nations; John Home,
author of Douglas; D: William Robertson, author of History of Scotland;
Henry Home, 'Lord Kames,' author of Elements of Criticism, in which
Hume's scepticism is controverted; and Adam Ferguson, Professor of Moral
Philosophy, and author of an Essay on the History of Civil Society.
Several of the prominent clergymen of the city, more naturally those of
the moderate school, who were less offended by the freedom of his
writing on theological and religious questions, were on terms of
intimacy with Hume. Most marked amongst these were Rev. Dr Hugh Blair,
minister of the High Church, and afterwards Professor of Rhetoric and
Belles Lettres in the University; and Rev. Dr Carlyle, of Inveresk,
known as the 'Jupiter' of his set. Beyond the Edinburgh circle, the more
conspicuous of his correspondents were Hutcheson, Professor of Moral
Philosophy in Glasgow University, and his successor, Dr Thomas Reid,
known as the father of the Scotch School of Philosophy.
Amongst Evangelical men,
Hume came to be suspected, and in a degree even feared and unreservedly
denounced as an evil influence in the country. His avowed scepticism he
seemed to delight in expounding with ceaseless iteration. Though it was
primarily philosophic in its origin and range, it was resented with
intensity of feeling, as tending to foster Moderatism, and to undermine
religious earnestness, which had highly distinguished Scotchmen from the
Reformation period. In the view of this party, Hume stood out as the '
arch-infidel'; in his view, they were the 'zealots,' whose attack he
discounted in publishing his Treatise, the absence of which at the
outset added to his vexation.
One of the heaviest
disappointments of Hume's life was his failure to carry the appointment
to a Chair of Philosophy in a Scottish University. His first effort was
for the Edinburgh Chair of Moral Philosophyj his second for the Logic
Chair in Glasgow. Both efforts were fruitless, so hopeless, indeed, as
to discourage further attempts. In rearing, with unwavering resolution
and conspicuous ability, his sceptical philosophy, he had built a wall
which barred his progress to University distinction. This is the sole
explanation of the result. It was no lack of ability on his part, or of
attainment, or of teaching power, which led to his rejection. The force
of public opinion adverse to scepticism was the barrier. The interests
of philosophy itself, and also the interests of religion, are sacrificed
when it is proclaimed that scepticism is the outcome of a truly
penetrating speculative thought. The conviction of this swayed the
University authorities. In both cases he was a candidate for a Chair he
knew himself to be fitted for. The electors well knew it, though in less
degree, but they could not trust him. This is the penalty for the
philosopher when his bias is for sceptical thought, and when besides he
delights in it, and in the disturbance which is occasioned by its free
and even fierce expression. When, after his death, his Dialogues on
Religion was published, it became apparent that in his inmost soul he
appreciated the grounds for antagonism to a sceptical philosophy. There
he makes Cleanthes, the spokesman who most nearly expresses his own
thoughts, say to Philo, his representative sceptic :—' Your spirit of
controversy, joined to your abhorrence of vulgar superstition, carries
you strange lengths, when engaged in an argument; and there is nothing
so sacred and venerable, even in your own eyes, which you spare on that
occasion.' To this adverse criticism Philo replies :—' I must confess
that I am less cautious on the subject of Natural Religion than on any
other; both because I know that I can never, on that head, corrupt the
principles of common sense, and because no one, I am confident, in whose
eyes I appear a man of common sense, will ever mistake my intentions.
You in particular, Cleanthes, with whom I live in unreserved intimacy,
you are sensible, that, notwithstanding the freedom of my conversation,
and my love of singular arguments, no one has a deeper sense of religion
impressed on his mind, or pays more profound adoration to the Divine
Being, as he discovers himself to reason, in the inexplicable
contrivance and artifice of Nature.' [Dialogues concerning Natural
Religion, published 1879, p. 130.]
The judgment of the
Curators of Patronage adverse to Hume has been well interpreted by his
biographer, Hill Burton, 'The revolutionist, who is endeavouring to pull
to pieces what has been taught for ages within the same walls, and to
erect a new system in its stead, can scarcely ever be a satisfactory
instructor of any considerable number of young men.' [Life of
David Hume, I., p. 352] The characteristics which he had clearly
recognised in himself were adverse to his election as an Academic
teacher. 1A certain boldness of temper ' which made him adverse 'to any
authority in philosophy'; a tendency to make light of reason, as if it
were insufficient to lead us through the mazes of perplexity; and an
undisguised delight in sceptical conclusions, resolving, ' if we must
for ever be a prey to errors and delusions, that they shall, at least,
be natural and entertaining' (Treatise, vol i., p. 3). He did himself
injustice by those seemingly unguarded utterances, meant only to lighten
abstruse discussion. The man was greatly better than he seemed, when
tested by passages of this cast; but he was avowedly swayed by a
sceptical bias, and this the electors regarded as a disqualification for
office.
Hume was first and
chiefly a speculative thinker; intensely interested in the difficulties
besetting all research, he consecrated the best efforts of his life to
penetrate into the conditions of certainty in knowledge. He prosecuted
his task without misgiving, and was willing to bear all the
consequences, however trying to reputation and ambition. Amongst these
the loss of an Academic chair was by far the bitterest experience. He
had shown in many ways his conviction that philosophic research can be
successfully conducted only in silent retreat, with attention
concentrated undisturbed on all complexities of thought. He even refused
to discuss philosophic themes in general company, and hardly relaxed
this rule in the select gatherings of thinkers fully competent for the
discussion required. As a thinker, he really lived apart, feeling that
his speculations could be known only through the printed page, read
deliberately and silently as it had been written. When, however, he
closed his studies for the time, he abandoned all concern with them; he
returned into society with the alacrity of one who seeks relaxation, and
with the overflowing humour of one ready for amusement under any
conditions. In the same spirit his familiar correspondence was
conducted, allowing himself often freedom for the utmost playfulness —
not infrequently for unrestrained exaggeration, liable to
misunderstanding by those who were not familiar with the licence he
allowed himself in the familiarity of friendship. |