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

Edinburgh, 26th Nov. 1763.

At present his journal, as he tells me, begins with getting up at eight, taking his breakfast and going to school, where he remains to eleven. Then to the High School Yard to play at Englishman and Scotsman, or the hare and the dogs; of which I take the merit, as I saved him from the writing-school at that hour. He returns to school at twelve, and continues till two: goes to writing between three and four; and spends his evenings, as he tells me, in getting his school tasks, or in reading amusing books,—such as his uncle's history. In short, he is a very amiable boy, with quick parts, in my opinion as well as yours; and there is no doubt but he will do well. I am very glad of every thing that gives you pleasure,—even of some things that give you pain. From all accounts, both before and since you went to Paris, it might be foreseen that your reception, even from sincere as well as affected admirers, would amount to a degree of teasing. But all for the best, as my fellow philosopher, Pangloss, says. I don't care if you are "chassé de France à coups de complimens, et accablé en Angleterre à coups de richesse," so as not to find any rest to the soles of your feet out of Scotland. I would fain consider every accession to your fortune as so many dishes added to the future dinners in James's Court; and your eclat in France, as the forerunner of much variety of chosen and excellent wines from every quarter of that great kingdom. Meantime, though I like to lounge at firesides in practice, I have not, in speculation, that opinion you mention. I know nothing that is necessary to happiness but cordiality and the talent of finding diversion in all places. I remember, somewhere, a man's being told that he was too nice, because he could not dine on a ragout, and must have cold mutton. But I should not, perhaps, contradict you so flatly, nor rub so hard, considering how tender your sensibility will be grown after so many lenient applications.[176:1]

Hume to Dr. Robertson.

Paris, Dec. 1, 1763.

Dear Robertson,—Among other agreeable circumstances which attend me at Paris, I must mention that of having a lady for a translator; a woman of merit, the widow of an advocate.[176:2] She was, before, very poor, and known but to few; but this work has got her reputation, and procured her a pension from the court, which sets her at ease. She tells me that she has got a habit of industry; and would continue, if I could point out to her any other English book she could undertake, without running the risk of being anticipated by any other translator. Your "History of Scotland" is translated, and is in the press; but I recommended to her your "History of Charles V.," and promised to write to you, in order to know when it would be printed, and to desire you to send over the sheets from London, as they come from the press; I should put them into her hands, and she would, by that means, have the start of every other translator.[177:1] My two volumes last published, are, at present, in the press. She has a very easy natural style: sometimes she mistakes the sense; but I now correct her manuscript, and should be happy to render you the same service, if my leisure permit me, as I hope it will.

Do you ask me about my course of life? I can only say, that I eat nothing but ambrosia, drink nothing but nectar, breathe nothing but incense, and tread on nothing but flowers! Every man I meet, and, still more, every lady, would think they were wanting in the most indispensable duty, if they did not make a long and elaborate harangue in my praise. What happened last week, when I had the honour of being presented to the D——n's children, at Versailles, is one of the most curious scenes I have yet passed through. The Duc de B., the eldest, a boy of ten years old, stepped forth, and told me how many friends and admirers I had in this country, and that he reckoned himself in the number, from the pleasure he had received from the reading of many passages in my works. When he had finished, his brother, the Count de P., who is two years younger, began his discourse, and informed me, that I had been long and impatiently expected in France; and that he himself expected soon to have great satisfaction from the reading of my fine History. But what is more curious; when I was carried thence to the Count D'A., who is but four years of age, I heard him mumble something which, though he had forgot in the way, I conjectured, from some scattered words, to have been also a panegyric dictated to him. Nothing could more surprise my friends, the Parisian philosophers, than this incident.

It is conjectured that this honour was paid me by express order from the D.[178:1], who, indeed, is not on any occasion sparing in my praise.

All this attention and panegyric was at first oppressive to me; but now it sits more easy. I have recovered, in some measure, the use of the language, and am falling into friendships which are very agreeable; much more so than silly, distant admiration. They now begin to banter me, and tell droll stories of me, which they have either observed themselves, or have heard from others; so that you see I am beginning to be at home. It is probable that this place will be long my home. I feel little inclination to the factious barbarians of London; and have ever desired to remain in the place where I am planted. How much more so, when it is the best place in the world? I could here live in great abundance on the half of my income; for there is no place where money is so little requisite to a man who is distinguished, either by his birth or by personal qualities. I could run out, you see, in a panegyric on the people; but you would suspect that this was a mutual convention between us. However, I cannot forbear observing on what a different footing learning and the learned are here, from what they are among the factious barbarians abovementioned.

I have here met with a prodigious historical curiosity, the "Memoirs of King James II." in fourteen volumes, all wrote with his own hand, and kept in the Scots College. I have looked into it; and have made great discoveries.[179:1] It will be all communicated to me: and I have had an offer of access to the Secretary of State's office, if I want to know the despatches of any French minister that resided in London. But these matters are much out of my head. I beg of you to visit Lord Marischal, who will be pleased with your company. I have little paper remaining, and less time; and therefore conclude abruptly by assuring you that I am, dear Doctor, yours sincerely, &c.[179:2]

Hume to Dr. Blair.[180:1]

Dear Doctor,—I write every thing in haste, except on public affairs, which are the only serious matters I have leisure to mind: so, excuse this letter, if it prove a scrawl. I approve very much of your plan for ascertaining the authenticity of Ossian's Poems; and I doubt not of your success. I do not think you can publish all the letters you receive, which nobody would read: a summary of them will do better; but endeavour to be as particular as you can with regard to names of persons and passages: for the force of your argument will be there. I have met here with enthusiasts for Ossian's poetry; but there are also several critics who are of my opinion, that, though great beauties, they are also great curiosities, and that they are a little tedious by reason of their uniformity.

You desire to know the particulars of my reception here, and my course of life. I own I write little upon this subject, and always with some degree of secrecy, both because I wish to have such intelligence conveyed by others rather than myself, and because I am somewhat indifferent whether it be conveyed or not. However, I wrote some circumstances to Robertson, which I allow him to communicate to you. I suppose this, like all other violent modes, will pass; and, in the meanwhile, the hurry and dissipation attending it, gives me more pain than pleasure. Never was there a stronger instance of the vanity of human wishes. But this embarrassment proceeds chiefly from my own fault, and from a vain anxiety to give no offence nor displeasure to any body.

The men of letters here are really very agreeable: all of them men of the world, living in entire, or almost entire harmony among themselves, and quite irreproachable in their morals. It would give you, and Jardine, and Robertson, great satisfaction to find that there is not a single deist among them. Those whose persons and conversation I like best, are D'Alembert, Buffon, Marmontel, Diderot, Duclos, Helvetius, and old President Henault, who, though now decaying, retains that amiable character which made him once the delight of all France. He had always the best cook and the best company in Paris. But though I know you will laugh at me, as they do, I must confess that I am more carried away from their society than I should be, by the great ladies, with whom I became acquainted at my first introduction to court, and whom my connexions with the English ambassador will not allow me entirely to drop.

Nothing can be more easy and agreeable than my situation with Lord Hertford, who is a man of strict honour, an amiable temper, a good understanding, and an elegant person and behaviour. He takes very much in this place. He has got an opinion very well founded, that the more acquaintance I make, and the greater intimacies I form with the French, the more I am enabled to be of service to him: so he exacts no attendance from me; and is well pleased to find me carried into all kinds of company. He tells me, that if he did not meet me by chance in third places, we should go out of acquaintance. Thus you see my present plan of life sketched out; but it is unsuitable to my age and temper; and I am determined to retrench and to abandon the fine folks, before they abandon me.[181:1]

During his absence, Hume's house was let to Blair. In this letter he gives pretty minute instructions as to the most advantageous distribution of the occupation of the apartments, which incidentally illustrate his own domestic habits. Thus—

Hume to Colonel Edmondstoune.

Paris, 9th January, 1764.

Dear Edmondstoune,—I was fully settled, and, as I thought, for life at Edinburgh; had bought a very pretty little house, which I had repaired and furnished to my fancy; had purchased a chaise, and fixed every thing about my family on such a footing as to continue there the rest of my days. But while I was in this situation, which was far from disagreeable, I received a letter from my friend Mr. Wood, wrote by directions from Lord Hertford, by which I was invited to attend his lordship in his embassy to Paris, and to perform the functions of secretary to the embassy. I had never seen Lord Hertford, though I had heard an excellent character of him; but as I thought myself too old to enter on a new scene of life, and found myself settled to my mind, I at first refused the invitation; but on its being urged more home to me, I came up to London, where I found that Mr. Bunbury, a gentleman of considerable fortune, and married to the Duke of Richmond's sister, had already been appointed secretary; but was so disagreeable to the ambassador, that he was resolved never to see, or do business with his secretary, and therefore desired I should attend him, in order to perform the functions. He also thought himself certain that Bunbury could not possibly continue in the situation; but in order to make me more secure, he procured me a pension of £200 a-year for life, from the king. As I became every day better acquainted with my lord, I liked him every day better; and I do not believe there is in the world a man of more probity or humanity, endowed with a very good understanding, and adorned with very elegant manners and behaviour. My lady is also a person of great merit; and nothing can be more amiable than my Lord Beauchamp: so that you see I have every domestic means of happiness; and the good reception I have met with at Paris, particularly, as you observe, by the ladies, renders my present course of life, though somewhat too hurried and dissipated, as amusing as I could wish. My lord appears zealously my friend, and has urged the matter so home, in my favour, to the king and the ministers, that he has obtained a promise, that I shall soon have the appointments and commission of secretary to the embassy, which is about £1000 a-year, added to what I already possess: so that you see, dear Edmondstoune, I am in the high road to riches; and as there is no instance of a secretary to the embassy at Paris, that has not been advanced to the most considerable employments, I am at the same time in the high road to dignities. You must know, that Lord Hertford has so high a character for piety, that his taking me by the hand is a kind of regeneration to me, and all past offences are now wiped off. But all these views are trifling to one of my age and temper. The material point is (if any thing can be material,) that I keep my health and humour as entire as I possessed them at five and-twenty. I am sorry to hear, dear Edmondstoune, that the case is not the same with you, at least with regard to the former; and perhaps somewhat with regard to the latter. Your situation is no doubt tiresome, and somewhat disagreeable. What is the fancy of sending one of the first noblemen in the kingdom to pass years in a country town?[184:1] why do you not go forward to Italy, or back to Paris? When I arrived here, 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 which are [184:2] undoubtedly 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. This is the foundation of the report you mention; but I am absolutely confined to Paris and the court, and cannot on any account leave them so much as for three days.

Some advice, given at this time by Hume to a young man who, though in holy orders, had a tendency to scepticism, has already been before the public, and has been severely criticised. His view, that there are certain secrets which may be circulated among the learned in published books, without any risk that the vulgar, to whom a knowledge of them would be dangerous, should ever become acquainted with them, is one of the most incomprehensible features of his character.[184:3] The application of his own ethical system to the circumstances, might have taught him that no good thing can connect itself with a lie; and that, independently of all more sacred considerations, nothing can be more desolating to human morality, than the discovery, that those who are professing to teach solemn truths, do not themselves believe in the opinions they promulgate. If, on the other hand, his counsel be a legitimate deduction from his ethical principles, it is right that the world should possess this test of their nature.

The following is the correspondence on both sides. For obvious reasons the name of the young clergyman is suppressed. It may be observed, that Hume's letter has been made a ground for attributing infidel opinions to the ministers of the Presbyterian Church of Scotland. But justice requires it to be kept in view, that it appears from the immediately ensuing letter, that this individual belonged to the Church of England.

Colonel Edmondstoune to Hume.

Geneva, 26th March.

My Dear Secretary,—I have delayed for some time answering your letter, in expectation of being able to tell you what is to become of me; whether I am to return home, or remain abroad some years longer. Though I believe the latter will happen, I cannot speak of it with certainty, as I left it to Lord B. to determine for me; and he has not, as yet, given me any answer. I write to you at present to consult you about an acquaintance of yours, Mr. V——, who is here with Lord Abingdon, and who thinks of returning to England, May next. You'll be so good as to determine for him what character he is to assume on his arrival, whether that of a clergyman or a layman. I suppose you know he is in orders, but he is very very low church. To speak plain language, I believe him to be a sort of disciple of your own; and, though he does not carry matters quite so far as you, yet you have given him notions not very consistent with his priestly character; so that you see you are somewhat bound to give him your best advice. V—— is a very good-natured, sensible, honest follow, without any fortune. My young man has a great liking for him, and has all the inclination in the world to serve him; but he neither knows what to ask for him, and is not sure if his father would ask any thing at present. We are as much in the dark as to what passes in England, as if we lived in Siberia. As you know probably something of the matter, without entering into politics, you may give us some hints to direct us in what manner to act, and whether we may not be of more use to our friend in acting as auxiliaries than principals. You'll determine whether a man of probity can accept of a living, a bishoprick, that does not believe all the Thirty-nine Articles; for you only can fix him: he has been hitherto irresolute. If [I am not] mistaken, he seems rather inclined not to be a clergyman; but you know as well, and better than I do, how difficult it is to get any tolerable civil employment. I mean any patent place; while as soon as you can conveniently, and if you should determine for his being a clergyman, throw in something consolatory on his being obliged to renounce white stockings the rest of his life. I wait with impatience to hear of your being made secretary to the embassy. Shall a descendant of Gospatrick, Earl of Northumberland, remain in the character of under-secretary? I hope not; though I am afraid our cursed politics at home will occasion some delay. Lord Mount Stuart offers his compliments to you, and thanks you for the pleasure your History gave him. You scrub, do you think we have so little taste or curiosity as not to have your History complete? We have two copies, one to lend, and another for our own use; they were sent us immediately on the publication; it is almost the only book he takes pleasure in reading. He has read it once, and has got through four volumes the second time. By the bye, what is this M^cCaulay history? I saw in the newspapers an extract of a preface that seemed to me to be the rhapsody of a crazy head. I hear it is in opposition to your History. We have her sister here, who seems to be a good sort of woman, a Mrs. Buckingham. I wish your time would allow you to come here: you have a great many friends; among the rest a Madame Tronchin, wife to the procureur-general, a virtuous, generous, charitable, good woman. She has learned English since I have been here, and can read your History with as much ease as her own language. Her husband is a man of merit, a man of genius; but knows you only by the translations of your works. Mallet, Professor Bertrand, and many others, even ministers, are your friends; even the Christians acknowledge your merit as an historian. The Christians here are the friends of Rousseau: those that are not, have been his persecutors; but it was not for his religious principles. They were afraid of his breeding disturbance in their state. I wish you could do something for Rousseau without his knowing it. Print his works in England for his benefit. You did not, I suppose, receive my letter on that subject. I never received that from you, which you say you enclosed to Sir Harry Erskine. Adieu, yours,

J. E.[187:1]

Hume to Colonel Edmondstoune.

"Dear Edmondstoune,—I was just projecting to write a long letter to you, and another to Mr. V——, when your last obliging epistle came to hand. I immediately put pen to paper, to assure you that the report is entirely groundless, and that I have not lost, nor ever could have lost, a shilling by Fairholm's bankruptcy. Poor John Adams is very deeply engaged with him; but I had a letter last post from Dr. Blair, which informs me that he will yet be able to save fifteen or sixteen thousand pounds. I am glad to give you also this piece of intelligence.

"What! do you know that Lord Bute is again all-powerful, or rather that he was always so, but is now acknowledged for such by all the world? Let this be a new motive for Mr. V—— to adhere to the ecclesiastical profession, in which he may have so good a patron; for civil employments for men of letters can scarcely be found: all is occupied by men of business, or by parliamentary interest.[187:2]

"It is putting too great a respect on the vulgar, and on their superstitions, to pique one's self on sincerity with regard to them. Did ever one make it a point of honour to speak truth to children or madmen. If the thing were worthy being treated gravely, I should tell him, that the Pythian oracle, with the approbation of Xenophon, advised every one to worship the gods—νομω πολεως. I wish it were still in my power to be a hypocrite in this particular. The common duties of society usually require it; and the ecclesiastical profession only adds a little more to an innocent dissimulation, or rather simulation, without which it is impossible to pass through the world. Am I a liar, because I order my servant to say, I am not at home, when I do not desire to see company?

"How could you imagine that I was under-secretary to Lord Hertford, or that I could ever be prevailed on to accept of such a character? I am not secretary at all, but do the business of secretary to the embassy without any character. Bunbury has the commission and appointments: a young man of three or four and twenty, somewhat vain and ignorant, whom Lord Hertford refused to accept of, as thinking he would be of no use to him. The king gave me a pension of £200 a-year for life, to engage me to attend his lordship. My lord is very impatient to have me secretary to the embassy; and writes very earnest letters to that purpose to the ministers, and, among the rest, to Lord Bute. He engaged me, somewhat against my will, to write also to such of my friends as had credit with that favourite, Oswald, Elliot, Sir Harry, and John Hume. The king has promised that my Lord Hertford shall soon be satisfied in this particular; and yet, I know not how, I suspect that some obstacle will yet interpose; though nothing can be more scandalous, than for a man to enjoy the revenue of an office, which is exercised by another. Mr. Bunbury has great interest, being married to a sister of the Duke of Richmond, and sister-in-law to Lord Holland. The appointments of this office are above £1000 a-year, and the expense attending it nothing; and it leads to all the great employments. I wait the issue with patience, and even with indifference. At my years, and with my fortune, a man with a little common sense, without philosophy, may be indifferent about what happens. I am, dear Edmondstoune, yours sincerely."[189:1]

Hume to Gilbert Elliot of Minto.

"Paris, 27th March, 1764.

"My Dear Sir,—I believe I need not inform you how little I have been inclined to solicit the great, or even my own friends, for any thing that regards my own fortune. I may venture to say, that, hitherto, I have never once made any application of this nature: and you may wonder that now, at my years, when the greatest part of life is past, and I may esteem myself, in other respects, pretty much at my ease, I should submit to prefer requests which I declined at an age when ambition ought naturally to be stronger, and when my circumstances much more powerfully called for assistance. But the step I take at present is at Lord Hertford's desire; who, being determined to make it a point that I should have the credentials and appointments of secretary to the embassy, expressed his wish that I should apply to all my own friends on the same subject. My obligations to him are so great, that, even were I more reluctant, I could not have declined compliance; and surely I can have but small reluctance to apply to you, one of my best friends, with whom I have long lived in a course of intimacy and good correspondence.

"I remember that the last time I had the pleasure of seeing you, you said, that I no doubt wondered how it happened, that while the prime minister and favourite, who inclined to be a Mæcenas, and who bore me no ill will, was surrounded by all my most particular friends, I should never have experienced any good effects from their credit. I own that I never was surprised; not from any diffidence in them, but from some obvious objections. Now all these objections are removed by Lord Hertford's friendship. Nobody, henceforth, need be afraid to patronize me, either as a Scotchman or a Deist. This circumstance encourages me in my present application to my friends.

"Surely it is impossible to give them a juster and more plausible cause to support than mine. I do the functions here of secretary to the embassy: Is it not scandalous that another should live in London and draw the salary?

"Is it for the credit of government, that such abuses should appear to foreign nations? Is it good policy to send an ambassador to the most important of all foreign employments, and yet declare that he has so little credit at home, as not to have the choice of his own secretary.

"I shall not say that the partiality I meet with here will make these abuses more remarked, than if another person, less known, were concerned. But surely the government puts me in a situation which ought to render me entirely useless to my Lord Hertford, by refusing me a character which should have appeared necessary, in order to gain me admittance into company.

"Allow me to inform you of another circumstance, which renders my prevailing on this point the most material step to my future fortune. When I came to London, and found, contrary to Lord Hertford's opinion, that Mr. Bunbury was likely to keep his appointments, I declined going abroad, unless something certain was fixed in my favour. My lord said, that he would obtain me, from the public, a settlement of £200 a-year for life, or would give me as much from his private fortune. He applied to the king, who agreed; to Mr. Grenville, who also consented, two days before we came off. My pension was fixed on the most precarious footing of all pensions, by a simple order from the treasury to their secretary. Yet Mr. Grenville told my lord, that this was equivalent to a settlement for life. My lord believes so still; though I said nothing, perhaps from a foolish delicacy, as the time of our departure so near approached, and it was difficult then to correct the blunder. Were I to return to England, on my present footing, I should regard this pension as absolutely insignificant—not worth two years' purchase; and never could form any plan on the supposition of its duration. But had I obtained the rank and character of secretary to the embassy, there are certain pensions annexed, by custom, to certain employments; and I believe I might more depend upon it.

"You see how materially my interests are concerned. I have wrote to others of my friends, Sir Harry, Oswald, and John Hume, in the same style, that an effort may be made, all at once, in my favour. I own that, notwithstanding all the plausible appearances, my hopes of success are but moderate. I have been accustomed to meet with nothing but insults and indignities from my native country; but if it continue so, 'ingrata patria, ne ossa quidem habebis.' I am, my dear sir, yours sincerely."[192:1]

When the fame of Hume's reception in Paris had reached Scotland, some of his countrymen, who had not previously been very solicitous to court his notice, discovered that an introduction to him would be a valuable acquisition. The correspondence shows that the expectations of such persons were very large, and that if their names connected them with the aristocracy of Scotland, it could not fail that they should be at once put at their ease in the midst of the brilliant circle in which Hume was moving. The following may be taken as an instance of these attempts. On the 6th April, 1764, Blair writes:

"This letter will be presented to you by Colonel L——, brother to the Earl of L——; who, going on a trip to Paris, is very ambitious of being introduced to your acquaintance. You will find him a very honourable, good-natured, well-behaved young man, of an amiable disposition and character. As I have been much connected with the L—— family, who were my first patrons in the ecclesiastical way, I was very glad to have it in my power to do them this favour at their desire; and will reckon myself much obliged to you for any civilities you show the Colonel."[192:2]

Blair was not the sole medium through whom this gentleman was recommended. Wallace writes, on 3d April, with all due ceremony: "The occasion of my writing at present this short letter, is a desire from the friends of the family of L—— here, asking me to write you by this night's post, and acquaint you that the Honourable Alexander L——, Esquire, son to the late Earl of L——, lieutenant-colonel of Colonel Carey's regiment of foot, is going to Paris, and will probably be in it before this reaches you, and wishes you may be acquainted, before he comes, who he is." Taking the effect of these imposing denominations for granted, Mr. Wallace continues:—"I dare say you will introduce him to the good company where you are, and will be ready to put him on the best methods of enjoying and improving himself at Paris."

In Hume's answer to this application, we may trace some desire to reprove any notion that he was a person so insignificant as to feel highly honoured by an acquaintance with an Honourable, and bound as a matter of simple etiquette to receive his proffers with grateful eagerness.

Hume to Dr. Blair.

"Paris, 26th April, 1764.

"My Dear Sir,—Before I was favoured with yours, I had seen Colonel L——, who waited on me, as is usual with the British who come to Paris. I returned his visit, and introduced him to the ambassador, who asked him to dinner among seven or eight of his countrymen. You will be surprised, perhaps, when I tell you that this is the utmost of the civilities which it will ever be possible for me to show Mr. L——. For as to the ridiculous idea of foreigners, that I might introduce him to the good company of Paris, nothing can be more impracticable. I know not one family to which I could present such a man, silent, grave, awkward, speaking ill the language, not distinguished by any exploit, or science, or art. Were the French houses open to such people as these, they would be very little agreeable, considering the immense concourse of strangers to this place. But it is quite otherwise. The people are more scrupulous of receiving persons unknown, and I should soon lose all credit with them, were I to prostitute my recommendations of this nature. Your recommendations have great weight with me; but if I am not mistaken, I have often seen Colonel L——'s face in Edinburgh. It is a little late he has bethought himself of being ambitious, as you say, of being introduced to my acquaintance. The only favour I can do him, is to advise him, as soon as he has seen Paris, to go to a provincial town where people are less shy of admitting new acquaintance, and are less delicate judges of behaviour. It is almost out of the memory of man, that any British has been here on a footing of familiarity with the good company except my Lord Holderness, who had a good stock of acquaintance to begin with, speaks the language like a native, has very insinuating manners, was presented under the character of an old secretary of state, and spent, as is said, £10,000 this winter, to obtain that object of vanity. Him, indeed, I met every where in the best company: but as to others—lords, earls, marquises, and dukes—they went about to plays, operas, and ——. Nobody minded them; they kept company with one another; and it would have been ridiculous to think of bringing them into French company. I may add General Clarke, who was liked and esteemed by several people of merit, which he owed to his great cleverness and ingenuity, and to his surprising courage in introducing himself. I enter into this detail with you, that people with whom I am much more connected than with the L. family, may not, at any time, be surprised that I am able to do so little for them in this way, and may not form false ideas of the hospitality of the French nation. But I fancy there will not arrive at Paris many people who will have great claims of past civilities to plead with me.

"What you tell me of John Adams gives me great consolation. I had heard of the alarming news of his connexions with Fairholm, and things were put in the worst light. I was just ready to write to Ferguson to get from him a just state of the case; but if he has £15,000, or £18,000 remaining, his industry will recover him, and he may go on in his usual way of beneficence and generosity. That family is one of the few to whose civilities I have been much beholden, and I retain a lively sense of them.

"Our friend, I mean your friend, Lord Kames, had much provoked Voltaire, who never forgives, and never thinks any enemy below his notice. He has accordingly sent to the Gazette Literaire , an article with regard to the 'Elements of Criticism,' which turns that book extremely into ridicule, with a good deal of wit.[195:1] I tried to have it suppressed before it was printed; but the authors of that Gazette told me, that they durst neither suppress nor alter any thing that came from Voltaire. I suppose his lordship holds that satiric wit as cheap, as he does all the rest of the human race; and will not be in the least mortified by his censure.

"The taste for literature is neither decayed nor depraved here, as with the barbarians who inhabit the banks of the Thames. Some people, who had read your dissertation, affirmed to me, that it was the finest piece of criticism, incomparably, to be found in the English tongue. I know not if you have read the 'Poetique de Marmontel:' it is worth your perusal. Voltaire has published an edition of Corneille, and his notes and dissertations contain many fine things. There is a book published in Holland, in two volumes octavo, called 'De la Nature.' It is prolix, and in many parts whimsical; but contains some of the boldest reasonings to be found in print. There is a miscellany in three volumes duodecimo published here, where there are many good pieces. It is perhaps more amusing to me, than it will be to you; as there is scarce a poem in it whose author I do not know, or the person to whom it is addressed.

"It is very silly to form distant schemes: but I am fixed at Paris for some time, and, to judge by probabilities, for life. My income would suffice me to live at ease, and a younger brother of the best family would not think himself ill provided for, if he had such a revenue. Lodgings, a coach, and clothes, are all I need; and though I have entered late into this scene of life, I am almost as much at my ease, as if I had been educated in it from my infancy. However, sickness, or the infirmities of age, which I may soon expect, may probably make me think of a retreat: But whether that will be better found in Paris or elsewhere, time must determine. I forbid myself all resolution on that head.

"I shall indulge myself in a folly, which I hope you will make a discreet use of: it is the telling you of an incident which may appear silly, but which gave more pleasure than perhaps any other I had ever met with. I was carried, about six weeks ago, to a masquerade, by Lord Hertford. We went both unmasked; and we had scarce entered the room when a lady, in mask, came up to me and exclaimed:—'Ha! Monsr. Hume, vous faites bien de venir ici a visage découvert. Que vous serez bien comblé ce soir d'honnêtetés et de politesses! Vous verrez, par des preuves peu équivoques, jusqu'à quel point vous êtes chéri en France.' This prologue was not a little encouraging; but, as we advanced through the hall, it is difficult to imagine the caresses, civilities, and panegyrics which poured on me from all sides. You would have thought that every one had taken advantage of his mask to speak his mind with impunity. I could observe that the ladies were rather the most liberal on this occasion. But what gave me chief pleasure was to find that most of the eulogiums bestowed on me, turned on my personal character, my naïvéte, and simplicity of manners, the candour and mildness of my disposition, &c.—Non sunt mihi cornea fibra. I shall not deny that my heart felt a sensible satisfaction from this general effusion of good will; and Lord Hertford was much pleased, and even surprised, though he said, he thought that he had known before upon what footing I stood with the good company of Paris.

"I allow you to communicate this story to Dr. Jardine. I hope it will refute all his idle notions that I have no turn for gallantry and gaiety,[197:1]—that I am on a bad footing with the ladies,—that my turn of conversation can never be agreeable to them,—that I never can have any pretensions to their favours, &c. &c. &c. A man in vogue will always have something to pretend to with the fair sex.

"Do you not think it happy for me to retain such a taste for idleness and follies at my years; especially since I have come into a country where the follies are so much more agreeable than elsewhere? I could only wish that some of my old friends were to participate with me of these amusements; though I know none of them that can, on occasion, be so thoroughly idle as myself.

"I am persuaded you will find great comfort in my house, which, in every respect, is agreeable. I beg of you and Mrs. Blair, (to whom I desire my compliments,) that you would sometimes pay some attention to my sister, who is the person that suffers most by my absence. I am, dear sir, yours very sincerely."[198:1]

Blair writes, on the 15th November, assuring Hume that he is fully conscious of the unreasonableness of expecting him to introduce those who are accredited to him, to the good company of Paris. He says, that his own friend expressed himself as "very well satisfied" with Hume's behaviour towards him; and perhaps he had a better reception than the letter to Blair might seem to indicate. At all events, Blair seems not to have been discouraged, for he immediately introduced the son of the provost of Glasgow, travelling for his health, and Arthur Masson, a teacher of languages, recommending them to such good offices as Hume finds himself at liberty to bestow on them. It is clear, in short, that he had not been successful in frightening his friends from requesting him to perform offices of kindness and courtesy, or from trusting that he would perform them. The following passage, in Blair's letter, is evidence of the popularity of the Literary classes of the university of Edinburgh, during the middle of last century.

In a letter to Millar, chiefly in reference to some English law books, which Hume had engaged to obtain for a French lawyer, he recurs to the Memoirs of King James. He seems to have indolently adopted the notion that there were few chances of his having an opportunity of making additions to his History of the Stuarts. He did live, however, to see more than one new edition of it: but the references in them to the treasure he had discovered at Paris, are extremely meagre. Another letter immediately follows, in which we find that his anticipations of new editions are already outrun by the demands: and we find in his, as in many other cases, where permanent fame has been reached, that the excitement of expectant authorship has declined long before its visions are realized; and that their fulfilment comes at last on minds sobered down to indifference.