The Project Gutenberg eBook of Life and Correspondence of David Hume, Volume II, by John Hill Burton.

[265:1] MS. R.S.E. In answer, Millar tells him that the prejudice is not against the Scots, but against Lord Bute; that matters have now, however, been all put right, for "it is generally believed that Mr. Greenville is a good manager of the finances, and in general means well: as a proof of it, our stocks have been creeping up daily, and it is now generally believed that 3 per cent will soon come to par if affairs continue peaceable!" One possessed of better opportunities of judging, and more capable of using them, joins in these anticipations of success with which Grenville's disastrous career as a financier opened. Elliot says, on 25th March, 1765: "To-morrow Mr. Grenville opens the budget, as it is usually called, and I believe our revenue will appear to be on a better footing than is usually believed. I hope we shall have discharged as much debt without breach of faith as you have done in a politer way. Not that I pretend to censure your method. You borrow at a high interest during time of war, and it is understood you are to take your own method in peace. Our mode of proceeding is the very reverse of this. . . . Your negotiation with regard to the French prisoners you must have heard, met with all the approbation it so well deserved." (MS. R.S.E.)

[275:1] On account of his taxation system having caused the American Revolution, Grenville is now generally ranked with statesmen of despotic principles. He was, however, an avowed admirer of the democratic portions of the constitution; and it was in truth his ill-directed advocacy of popular rights, not an intentional departure from his avowed principles, that made his administration so disastrous. His zeal for the independent authority of Parliament, and for the curtailment of the prerogatives of the Crown, induced him to struggle for the exercise by parliament, in the colonies, of a power with which the crown could not compete,—that of taxation.

[276:1] Evidently the Abbé Morellet, who afterwards corresponded with Hume on these subjects. He was born in 1727, and died in 1819. From his great age and the cheerful social habits of his latter years, he was one of the few members of the school of the Encyclopædiasts, whom men of the present generation have been accustomed to meet in general society. Morellet possessed two distinct titles to fame. He had written some grave and valuable books on political economy and statistics; while in lighter literature, and in Madame Geoffrin's circle, he enjoyed a high reputation for playful and pungent wit. His friends likened him to Swift; but as he sought to avoid malice in his sarcasms, and to make them subservient to good principles in morals and religion, he might, in this part of his character, be more aptly compared with Sydney Smith. He had a great partiality for Scottish music; but it may be doubted if this taste was either created or fostered by his intercourse with Hume. In his very amusing Memoires, he describes a dinner with a musical party near Plymouth, in the open air. Some young ladies, with their father and mother, approached near enough to hear the music. The Abbé gallantly carried them a basket of cherries. "Je les prie en même temps de vouloir bien chanter some Scotish song, dont, moi Français, j'étais very fond. Elles se regardent un moment: et dès que nous fûmes retournés à nos places, comme si notre plus grand éloignement les eût rassurées, elles se mettent à chanter toutes les trois à l'unisson, avec des voix d'une extrême douceur, The lass of Peatie's Mill. Le temps, le lieu, la singularité de la rencontre ajoutèrent quelques charmes à ce petit concert." Vol. i. p. 209.

[278:1] Mr. Elliot, in answer to the letter printed above, (p. 189,) says, "So, my dear sir, you have at last, with no small reluctance, and after many struggles, prevailed with yourself to acquaint some of your friends that Lord Hertford means to desire that government would be graciously pleased to bestow the character and emoluments of the secretaryship upon the person who actually performs the functions of it. At your time of life, with so much independency about you, and so unlike all your former conduct, indeed I am not at all surprised that it cost you near two pages of apology and explanation before you would even intrust me with the secret. Were you less deep in the study of human nature, and somewhat more an adept in the ways of men, I am apt to think you would rather have filled your letter with excuses for not having sooner made this application."

He goes on to state, that he has been exerting himself in the matter, but that on all occasions he had found himself anticipated by Lord Hertford. He continues:

"As to ingrata patria ne ossa quidem habebis, don't be at all uneasy. Here I can speak more peremptorily; and notwithstanding all your errors, mistakes, and heresies in religion, morals, and government, I undertake you shall have at least Christian burial, and perhaps we may find for you a niche in Westminster Abbey besides. Your Lockes, Newtons, and Bacons had no great matter to boast of during their lives; and yet they were the most orthodox of men; they required no godfather to answer for them; while, on the other hand, did not Lord Hertford spread his sevenfold shield over all your transgressions? Pray, what pretensions have you, either in church or state; for you well know you have offended both?"—MS. R.S.E.

[286:3] The Dauphin was then far advanced in the disease of which he died. According to the ordinary French historians, he was at the same time so completely subjected to the priestly influence of the Molinists, as to justify the supposition, that the decay of his mind kept pace with that of his body. Others give a totally different account of him, and Walpole says, "To please his family, the prince went through all the ceremonies of the church, but showed to his attendants after they were over, how vain and ridiculous he thought them. Many expressions he dropped in his last hours that spoke the freedom of his opinions; and to the Duc de Nivernois he said, he was glad to leave behind him such a book as 'Hume's Essays.'" Memoirs of George III. vol. ii. p. 242. The Dauphin died on 20th December, 1765.

[288:1] A general officer of reputation, making such an application, on behalf of a friend, says:—

"The divine in question has a very good living, but in a quarter of the world where he has not a creature to converse with. If his excellency would enrol him among that million of the tribe of Levi, that attend at the Castle of Dublin, who are called his chaplains, it would excuse his attendance at quarters: And his general,—I mean, his bishop, would be under the necessity of permitting him to be absent whilst he had the honour to be about the commander-in-chief at headquarters."—MS. R.S.E.

[289:1] Lord Hertford, writing to Hume, on 5th August, says:—

"Dear Sir,—You will see, in the papers, that Barré is to be my secretary; but it has no other foundation. If I had been at liberty, I should have desired to continue with him whose abilities and ease in business I have so long experienced; but the world will have it otherwise, and it must be my son. He is popular in Ireland; and I am invited, on all hands, to name him; at the same time that I am told the great danger of indulging my own inclinations, that if I named you, with the particular additional prejudice that prevails, at present, against the Scotch, that I should condemn my own administration. I have, therefore, made it the condition of my acceptance of the lieutenancy, that you are immediately provided for in a manner less likely to subject you to the inconvenience of party changes. I have explained, both to the King and the ministers, how essential I thought it to my honour and ease of mind; and it is resolved. I flatter myself I shall soon be able to acquaint you, that I have been a good solicitor; and, as my private friend, I beg leave to assure you that I shall always be most happy in receiving you in Dublin, and every other part of the world, let the prejudices and follies of mankind be what they will. I hope you will consider me as your friend; and I will desire no other return for all the services I may be able to do you, than such a portion of your time as you can bestow upon me, consistently with your inclination. The Duke of Richmond goes to France: I do not yet know upon what plan, having not seen him. He is a pretty figure; is easy in his behaviour; and does not want parts. I wish he may have temper, experience, and knowledge of men for that place. I have talked to my brother, as it became a wellwisher to peace, upon this occasion. You will receive, by the messenger which carries this letter to France, an official one from my brother, drawn by himself, by which you will be able to judge of his style. I need not add any thing to it. Every thing which passed, in a very long conference we had together with Guerchy, is fully stated in it; but, when you talk to the Duke of Praslin upon it, you will, if you please, take an opportunity of recommending from me, in a particular manner, the indulgence required for the holders of the Canada bills. This point may be essential to the good understanding between the two courts."—MS. R.S.E.

[291:1] Lord Hertford writes Hume, on 16th August;—

"The usher of the black rod, in Ireland, is in my disposal. It produces, in the course of a session, from £800 to £900, as I am informed. If you approve it, my intention is to give it to a gentleman who will be extremely satisfied to accept of £300 a-year for his trouble, at most, and the rest will be placed to your account, without interrupting the benefit of the pension."

And again, on September 5, after Hume's refusal:—

"The black rod you will give me leave to dispose of as I intended. You shall, at the end of the session, refuse the emoluments I propose to reserve out of it, if you see sufficient reason. £300 for doing the duty of it should satisfy the person to whom I will give it."—MS. R.S.E.

[295:1] We are told (vie de Rousseau par Musset Pathay, i. 102,) that a certain M. Augar, having been here presented to the apostle of education, said he was bringing up his son after the model of "Emile." "So much the worse both for you and your son;" tant pis pour vous et pour votre fils, said Rousseau. This must have been highly satisfactory. Of all the theories to reconcile Rousseau's contradictions,—to discover on what principle he preached up parental care, and sent his own children to the foundling hospital, the best is supplied by himself in a single sentence in the Heloise: "L'on sait bien que tout homme qui pose des maximes générales, entend qu'elles obligent tout le monde, excepté lui." This is certainly more intelligible than the mystical theory of his eulogist, D'Escherny: "Il n'y a que les sots qui ne se contredisent point, parce que leur esprit borné ne voit jamais qu'un côté de l'objet."

[301:1] Hume, though habitually sceptical, was far from being suspicious; and in his kindness to his new companion, he took every thing in sincerity. "C'est un des malheurs de ma vie," says Rousseau, "qu'avec un si grand désir d'être oublié, je sois contraint de parler de moi sans cesse;" but those who knew him better than Hume did at so early a period of their intercourse, do not give him credit for desiring to be either neglected or forgotten. Madame de Genlis professes to have been much vexed and perplexed by having acted on a reliance similar to Hume's. Rousseau had promised to accompany her to the Comédie Françoise, on the condition that they were to occupy a loge grillée. When they entered, madame flew to shut the grating; Rousseau opposed her; he was sure she would not like it to be closed, and he would be sufficiently hidden, by sitting behind her. In the scuffle he was recognised; madame, vexed and terrified, insisted that the grating should be closed; but he was inexorable. The commencement of a popular piece soon relieved them from notice, and when the eyes of the audience were averted from him, Rousseau grew gloomy and rude. He afterwards professed himself deeply offended at having been exhibited as a wild beast! Mémoires , ii. 12.

The same lady gives a more pleasing instance of his characteristics at that time, in describing her first introduction to him. A friend told her, that her husband intended to play a trick on her: to employ the celebrated mimic Preville, the Foote of the French stage, to personate Rousseau at his table. The expected guest appeared. His dress and appearance were so unlike other people's, yet so like what would have been expected in Rousseau—his conversation was so brilliant—that it certainly must be a piece of wonderful acting. Thoroughly at her ease, she laughed, and talked, and sang the airs of the Devin du village. It was Rousseau himself! and not accustomed, in this the full blaze of his reputation, to be received with so much freedom, by a young and accomplished woman, he pronounced her to be the most lively and unaffected of her sex.

[305:2] Rousseau writes to Hume:—

Le Lundi Soir.

Je vous supplie, mon très cher patron, de vouloir bien m'excuser auprès de Myladi Ailesbury et de Mr. Le Général Conway. Je suis malade, et hors d'état de me présenter, et Mademoiselle Le Vasseur, très bonne, et très estimable personne, n'est point faite pour paroître dans les grandes compagnies. Trouvez bon, mon très cher patron, que nous nous en tenions au premier arrangement et que j'attende dans l'après midi le carrosse que M. Davenport veut bien envoyer. J'arrive suant et fatigué d'une longue promenade: c'est pourquoi je ne prolonge pas ma lettre: vous m'avez si bien acquis et je suis à vous de tant de manières que cela même ne doit plus être dit. Je vous embrasse de toute la tendresse de mon cœur.

J. J. Rousseau.

Had Lady Aylesbury requested the honour of Mademoiselle le Vasseur's company along with that of her keeper? Rousseau tells us what pleasure it gave him to see Madame la Marechale de Luxembourg embrace her in public. But if any English lady of rank and character offered to extend her hospitality to such a person, there could be no stronger evidence of the general consent to suspend all social laws in favour of Rousseau.

[306:2] Madame de Boufflers seems to have early apprehended mischief from Walpole's letter. In the letter referred to, she says, "Je voudrois savoir si une lettre du Roy de Prusse qui court Paris est vraie ou fausse. On dit qu'elle est pleine d'ironie." She then proceeds to describe the letter. Hume in answer says, "I suppose, that by this time you have learned it was Horace Walpole who wrote the Prussian letter you mentioned to me. It is a strange inclination we have to be wits, preferably to every thing else. He is a very worthy man; he esteems and even admires Rousseau; yet he could not forbear, for the sake of a very indifferent joke, the turning him into ridicule, and saying harsh things against him. I am a little angry with him; and I hear you are a great deal: but the matter ought to be treated only as a piece of levity."—Private Correspondence , p. 130.

[309:2] Writing to the Marquise de Barbantane, he makes the following addition to this anecdote:—

"When the hour came, he told me, that he had changed his resolution, and would not go: 'for—what shall I do with Sultan?' That is the name of his dog. 'You must leave him behind,' said I. 'But the first person,' replied he, 'who opens the door, Sultan will run into the streets in search of me, and will be lost.' 'You must then,' said I, 'lock him up in your room, and put the key in your pocket.' This was accordingly done: but as we went down stairs, the dog howled and made a noise; his master turned back, and said he had not resolution to leave him in that condition; but I caught him in my arms and told him, that Mrs. Garrick had dismissed another company in order to make room for him; that the King and Queen were expecting to see him; and without a better reason than Sultan's impatience, it would be ridiculous to disappoint them. Partly by these reasons, and partly by force, I engaged him to proceed."—Private Correspondence , p. 144.

[311:1] In his narrative of the controversy, Hume says, "I wrote immediately to my friend Mr. John Stewart of Buckingham Street, that I had an affair to communicate to him, of so secret and delicate a nature, that I should not venture even to commit it to paper, but that he might learn the particulars of Mr. Elliot. . . . . Mr. Stewart was to look out for some honest and discreet farmer in his neighbourhood, who might be willing to lodge and board M. Rousseau and his gouvernante. . . . . It was not long before Mr. Stewart wrote me word he had found a situation, which he conceived might be agreeable," &c.

In confirmation of this narrative, there is the following letter in the MSS. R.S.E. Mr. Stewart is probably the "Jack Stewart," frequently alluded to in Hume's letters.

"My Dear Sir,—Mr. Elliot told me the affair you recommended to him. Since his arrival I have tried every farmer in our side of the country, and can find no proper place. Some have not room, some hate foreigners, some don't chuse boarders, and the major part of all are such beings as he could not live with in any comfortable manner. There is an old Frenchman who has been here since a child, and has a sort of a garden farm at Fulham. To him I proposed the thing without mentioning names, and to oblige me he will take such a boarder: but still I could wish to find a place where he would be more agreeably situated, for this man keeps only a single maid, eats very plain, and his house is as dirty as a Frenchman's in France. The farmer himself is about sixty years old, unmarried, a cheerful honest creature, of a very obliging disposition. Consider whether this will suit your purpose, or if I should try in other counties. Adieu, my worthy good sir. Believe me eternally, your devoted servant,

"J. Stewart."

[312:1] Blair had written on 24th February,—

"I received both your letters; and am exceedingly indebted to you for the many curious and entertaining anecdotes you gave me concerning Rousseau. They bestowed upon me somewhat of the same importance which you say your connexion with Rousseau himself bestowed upon you in Paris, by having so much information to give my friends from you concerning so extraordinary a personage. Your accounts pleased me the more, that they coincided very much with the idea I had always formed of the man—amiable but whimsical. Strong sensibilities joined with an oddly arranged understanding. He is a proof of what I always thought to be a possible mixture in human nature, one being a sceptic from the turn of their mind, and yet an enthusiast from the turn of their heart; for this I take to be his real character—a man floating betwixt doubts and feelings—betwixt scepticism and enthusiasm: leaning more to the latter than the former; his understanding strangely tinctured by both." He desires Hume to ask Rousseau, whether the principal scenes in his "Héloise" were not founded on real events.—MS. R.S.E.

CHAPTER XV.

The place where Rousseau found a retreat, was the mansion of Wooton in Derbyshire, surrounded by scenery, not unlike that which he had left behind him in the Jura. It was a late addition to the extensive ancestral estates of its proprietor, Mr. Davenport of Davenport. How successful Hume had been, in finding a man of generous, warm, kindly nature, to be the protector of his exiled friend, some letters from Mr. Davenport, printed in the course of this narrative will attest.[319:1]

That Rousseau might be induced to live in his house, it was necessary that Mr. Davenport should agree to accept of a sum of money in the shape of board, and he good-humouredly conceded to Hume, that the amount should be fixed at £30 a-year. "If it be possible," says Hume, "for a man to live without occupation, without books, without society, and without sleep, he will not quit this wild and solitary place; where all the circumstances which he ever required, seem to concur for the purpose of making him happy. But I dread the weakness and inquietude natural to every man, and, above all, to a man of his character. I should not be surprised that he had soon quitted this retreat."[320:1] It appears that Mr. Davenport intended, if Rousseau became attached to Wooton, to leave him a life lease of the house.[320:2]

Rousseau reached Wooton about the middle of March. On the 22d he wrote to his cher Patron Hume, informing him that his new place of residence was in every way delightful; and that its charms were enhanced by the reflection, that he owed all the happiness of his new position to his dear friend.[320:3] Doubtless Hume, who must now have been a little tired of the caprices which had so constantly baffled his friendly exertions, felt this acknowledgment to be very gratifying. On the 29th he received a letter, still friendly and grateful, but not quite so warm, in which Rousseau, while he complains of the inconvenience of not being understood by the servants, congratulates himself on his ignorance of the English language, as saving him from the annoyance of communication with his neighbours.[320:4]

While all seemed thus serene, dark thoughts were gathering in the exile's mind: and if Hume, relieved of his troublesome duties, and probably satisfied with his own conduct, had known the nicer tests of the state of that variable and tempestuous temper, he might have calculated, by some indications, that the storm was about to burst. The letter of Horace Walpole had, for some time, been lying at the bottom of Rousseau's mind, not forgotten, though hidden from view; and it seems to have formed the nucleus round which his diseased imaginations gathered, and put themselves into shape.[321:1] On the 7th of April, Rousseau sent a letter to the editor of the St. James's Chronicle , in which it had appeared, denouncing it as a forgery concocted in Paris, and saying that it rent and afflicted his heart to say, that the impostor had his accomplices in England. That it was not then, or for many weeks before, that he first became acquainted with this jeu d'esprit, is clear from a letter to Madame de Boufflers, of 18th January, in which he states, that Hume had just informed him of its existence.[323:1] He appears to have then attributed it to Voltaire. He afterwards imputed it, with great confidence, to D'Alembert; and the ultimate discovery, that it was not written by any literary rival and conspirator, but by an English gentleman partial to such wicked amusements, appears to have been the most galling circumstance connected with it.

It seems to have been believed, by some of those who knew Rousseau's character, that his brooding over Walpole's letter would have been insufficient to cause the commotions that followed, without the malicious assistance of Mademoiselle Le Vasseur.[323:2] This woman, who seems to have possessed all the vices to which her sex is liable, without one of its virtues,—who had just enough of intellect to assist the cunning of her depraved heart,—is said to have had an influence over the philosopher of education, of which it is certainly difficult to credit the extent. It will be seen, in the letters of Mr. Davenport, that she had a dispute with his venerable housekeeper, concerning a kettle and cinders! What was the exact nature of the dispute, is now, it may be feared, buried in eternal oblivion; and we are left to conjecture whither an influential cause in a literary quarrel, which interested all Europe, may possibly have been a kettle and cinders. On the 12th of May, Rousseau wrote to General Conway, acknowledging the king's goodness in bestowing on him a pension; saying he thought himself armed against all disasters, but that a new and unimagined one had arisen, which so troubled his spirit, that he had not the necessary presence of mind to decide on the conduct he ought to adopt as to the pension. He expressed, at the same time, sorrow that he could not publicly acknowledge his obligations. This appeared to Hume and Conway to be an intimation, that the pension would not be accepted if it were to be secret.[324:1]

While his mind was thus blackening within, he preserved a cheerful exterior; and Mr. Davenport wrote to Hume, on 14th May, from Wooton: "I came on Friday, and had the satisfaction of finding M. Rousseau in perfect health. He seems to like the place; amuses himself with walking when the weather is fair; if raining, he plays upon the harpsichord and writes: is very sociable, and an excellent companion."[325:1] There is evidence, however, that he had entertained all his evil thoughts of Hume at a much earlier period. His second letter to him, in the capacity of Cher Patron, is dated, as we have mentioned, 29th March. On the 31st he wrote to M. D'Ivernois, saying that he found Hume allied with his most dangerous enemies, and if he were not a rascal, he himself would owe him many reparations for unjust suspicions entertained of him.[325:2]

Resolved to bring the matter of the pension to a conclusion, Hume wrote to Rousseau thus:—

"Lisle Street, Leicester Fields,
June 16, 1766.

"As I have not received any answer from you, sir, I conclude that you persevere in the resolution of refusing all marks of his majesty's goodness, as long as they must remain a secret. I have, therefore, applied to General Conway to have this condition removed; and I have been so fortunate as to obtain his promise, that he would speak to the king for that purpose. It will only be requisite, said he, that we know previously from M. Rousseau, whether he would accept of a pension publicly granted him, that his majesty may not be exposed to a second refusal. He gave me authority to write to you on the subject; and I beg to hear your resolution as soon as possible. If you give your consent, which I earnestly entreat you to do, I know that I can depend on the good offices of the Duke of Richmond to second General Conway's application; so that I have no doubt of success. I am, my dear sir, yours, with great sincerity."[326:1]

This brought on the first gust of the storm. On 23d June, Rousseau wrote his celebrated letter, beginning with the observation, that his silence, interpreted by Hume's conscience, must have convinced the latter that the whole of his horrible designs were discovered. In this letter nothing is more remarkable than the contrast between the frantic bitterness of the language, and the elaborate neatness of the penmanship, which, if handwriting conveyed a notion of character, would represent a calm, contented mind, gratifying itself by the exercise of the petty art of caligraphy. A fac-simile of the concluding paragraph is given, that the reader may have an opportunity of marking this singular contrast.

Hume to Rousseau.

"June 26, 1766.

"As I am conscious of having ever acted towards you the most friendly part, of having always given you the most tender and the most active proofs of sincere affection, you may judge of my extreme surprise on perusing your epistle. Such violent accusations, confined altogether to generalities, it is as impossible to answer, as it is impossible to comprehend them. But affairs cannot, must not, remain on that footing. I shall charitably suppose that some infamous calumniator has belied me to you. But, in that case, it is your duty, and, I am persuaded, it will be your inclination, to give me an opportunity of detecting him, and of justifying myself; which can only be done by your mentioning the particulars of which I am accused. You say, that I myself know that I have been false to you; but I say it loudly, and will say it to the whole world, that I know the contrary; that I know my friendship towards you has been unbounded and uninterrupted; and that though I have given you instances of it, which have been universally remarked both in France and England, the public as yet are acquainted only with the smallest part of it. I demand, that you name to me the man who dares assert the contrary; and, above all, I demand, that he shall mention any one particular in which I have been wanting to you. You owe this to me; you owe it to yourself; you owe it to truth, and honour, and justice, and to every thing deemed sacred among men. As an innocent man—for I will not say, as your friend; I will not say, as your benefactor; but I repeat it, as an innocent man, I claim the privilege of proving my innocence, and of refuting any scandalous falsehood which may have been invented against me. Mr. Davenport, to whom I have sent a copy of your letter, and who will read this before he delivers it, will, I am confident, second my demand, and tell you that nothing can be more equitable. Happily I have preserved the letter you wrote me after your arrival at Wooton; and you there express, in the strongest terms, in terms indeed too strong, your satisfaction in my poor endeavours to serve you. The little epistolary intercourse, which afterwards passed between us, has been all employed on my side to the most friendly purposes. Tell me, then, what has since given you offence. Tell me, of what I am accused. Tell me the man who accuses me. Even after you have fulfilled all these conditions to my satisfaction, and to that of Mr. Davenport, you will still have great difficulty to justify your employing such outrageous terms towards a man, with whom you have been so intimately connected, and who was entitled, on many accounts, to have been treated by you with more regard and decency.

"Mr. Davenport knows the whole transaction about your pension, because I thought it necessary that the person who had undertaken your settlement should be fully acquainted with your circumstances; lest he should be tempted to perform towards you concealed acts of generosity, which, if they accidentally came to your knowledge, might give you some grounds of offence. I am, sir," &c.[328:1]

In here exhibiting a few of the prominent features of the quarrel between Hume and Rousseau, there is no intention of entering on a defence of Hume, or a full examination of the conduct of the parties. Viewing it as a picturesque incident in literary history, the reader will probably feel an interest in such new light as may be thrown upon it on the present occasion; but, it is presumed that few who have made themselves acquainted with the material circumstances of the dispute, as they have been already made known, will expect any thing to be said that can alter their appreciation of the conduct of the parties. Where there are personal disputes, there is no cause so hopelessly bad as to be without partisans; and when no other motive comes into action, a feeling of generosity towards one who seems to have forfeited the good opinion of his kind, calls forth a few vindicators and supporters. It was natural that Rousseau, a man of great genius, whose writings had produced a prodigious influence on his age,—one who had shown, in many instances, the outward manifestations of a kind unselfish disposition, and who had discarded, with an air of magnanimous scorn, all the grovelling ties that bind the human creature to the earth on which he crawls,—should have champions and supporters in any dispute in which he might be involved, be his conduct what it might. Thus he had a few vindicators, chiefly of the female sex, while he lived: but gradually, when feelings of personal sympathy had died away, the conduct of the disputants ceased to be weighed against each other in the same scales. People did not inquire which of them had acted more fairly and justly than the other; but, putting Rousseau's conduct out of the question as a criterion, they asked, whether that of Hume was kind and magnanimous towards the unfortunate monomaniac?[329:1] Although this view is plainly to be traced in the sentiments of those who have fugitively touched on the dispute, it is to be gathered more from the general tone of their remarks, than from any direct avowal of belief, that Rousseau was a monomaniac.[331:1] There is a majesty in genius, that makes us reluctant thus to ally it with the debasement of the human intellect. Yet, too often, some portion of the most brilliant mind is thus eclipsed, though the brightness of what is clear prevents our seeing easily the blackened spot. In Rousseau's case, there has been, perhaps, a disinclination to admit the "plea of insanity," on account of the wonderful practical sagacity that accompanied his aberrations. Though apparently surveying the world with a sick and careless eye, he occasionally penetrated into the depths of the human heart, and marked its secrets, with an accuracy that made the practised and systematic observer's survey seem but a superficial glance. He had a mind at times eminently practical,[332:1] and suited to estimate men's conduct and character: and thus appearing before the world, there has been much hesitation to pronounce, that the sincerity of insanity accompanied all his vile charges against a man whose heart could not have been for one moment visited by the atrocities of which he is accused.

It is clear, that whatever had been Hume's conduct in the affair, Rousseau's rage was a storm predestined to burst upon him. Its elements were in the mind of "the self-torturing sophist," not in the conduct of any other person; and whoever was the object nearest to his thoughts at the moment, as being most associated with the circumstances in which he was placed, had to stand the shock. In this view, Hume's conduct is no more to be tested by that of Rousseau, than the keeper's by that of his patient. We are thus rid of the unpleasant employment of comparing things which cannot bear comparison; and of the sickening task of enumerating instances of kindness, attachment, persevering good offices, and charitable interpretations of conduct on the one side, met by black ingratitude, contempt, and deadly injury on the other.

If we look for that over-excited propensity which may have caused this mental disease, it appears, beyond doubt, that it was vanity.[333:1] All Rousseau's avowed misfortunes are the calamities of celebrity. At one time he is the victim of princes and prime ministers; at another, of an assembled clergy; at another, of half the learned men of Europe. That he is neglected and forgotten is never among his ostensible complaints; though there is good reason to believe that it was at the bottom of his most conspicuous fits of fury. The English people, though they were at first somewhat curious about the remarkable stranger, did not incommode themselves about him, and obstinately abstained from following him into the wilderness. In his long letter of charges, he cannot help bitterly remarking the apathy of the public; but he states it as an accusation against Hume,[333:2] whom he supposes to have said, like Flavius,