CHAPTER VII.

1748-1751. Æt. 37-40.

Publication of the "Inquiry concerning Human Understanding"—Nature of that Work—Doctrine of Necessity—Observations on Miracles—New Edition of the "Essays, Moral and Political"—Reception of the new Publications—Return Home—His Mother's Death—Her Talents and Character—Correspondence with Dr. Clephane—Earthquakes—Correspondence with Montesquieu—Practical jokes in connexion with the Westminster Election—John Home—The Bellman's Petition.

Early in the year 1748, and while he was on his way to Turin, Hume's "Philosophical Essays concerning Human Understanding,"[272:1] which he afterwards styled "Inquiry concerning Human Understanding," were published anonymously in London. The preparation of this work had probably afforded him a much larger share of genuine pleasure, than either the excitement of travelling, or the observation of the natural scenery, the works of art, and the men and manners among which he moved. In the tone of a true philosophical enthusiast, he says in the first section of the work, "Were there no advantage to be reaped from these studies beyond the gratification of an innocent curiosity, yet ought not even this to be despised, as being an accession to those few safe and harmless pleasures which are bestowed on the human race. The sweetest and most inoffensive path of life leads through the avenues of science and learning; and whoever can either remove any obstructions in this way, or open up any new prospect, ought so far to be esteemed a benefactor to mankind. And though these researches may appear painful and fatiguing, it is with some minds as with some bodies, which being endowed with vigorous and florid health, require severe exercise, and reap a pleasure from what, to the generality of mankind, may seem burdensome and laborious."

On the publication of this work, he says in his "own life,"—"I had always entertained a notion, that my want of success in publishing the 'Treatise of Human Nature,' had proceeded more from the manner than the matter, and that I had been guilty of a very usual indiscretion, in going to the press too early. I, therefore, cast the first part of that work anew in the 'Inquiry concerning Human Understanding,' which was published while I was at Turin. But this piece was at first little more successful than the 'Treatise of Human Nature.' On my return from Italy, I had the mortification to find all England in a ferment, on account of Dr. Middleton's 'Free Inquiry,'[273:1] while my performance was entirely overlooked and neglected."

He now desired that the "Treatise of Human Nature" should be treated as a work blotted out of literature, and that the "Inquiry" should be substituted in its place. In the subsequent editions of the latter work, he complained that this had not been complied with; that the world still looked at those forbidden volumes of which he had dictated the suppression. "Henceforth," he says, "the author desires that the following pieces may alone be regarded as containing his philosophical principles and sentiments;" and he became eloquent on the uncandidness of bringing before the world as the sentiments of any author, a work written almost in boyhood, and printed at the threshold of manhood. But it was all in vain: he had to learn that the world takes possession of all that has passed through the gates of the printing press, and that neither the command of despotic authority, nor the solicitations of repentant authorship can reclaim it, if it be matter of sterling value. The bold and original speculations of the "Treatise" have been, and to all appearance ever will be, part of the intellectual property of man; great theories have been built upon them, which must be thrown down before we can raze the foundation. That he repented of having published the work, and desired to retract its extreme doctrines, is part of the mental biography of Hume; but it is impossible, at his command, to detach this book from general literature, or to read it without remembering who was its author.

But, indeed, there were pretty cogent reasons why the philosophical world, and Hume's opponents in particular, should not lose sight of his early work. In the Inquiry, he did not revoke the fundamental doctrines of his first work. The elements of all thought and knowledge he still found to be in impressions and ideas. But he did not on this occasion carry out his principles with the same reckless hardihood that had distinguished the Treatise; and thus he neither on the one side gave so distinct and striking a view of his system, nor on the other afforded so strong a hold to his adversaries. This hold they were resolved not to lose; and therefore they retained the original bond, and would not accept of the offered substitute.

Of those views which are more fully developed in the Inquiry than in the early work, one of the most important is the attempt to establish the doctrine of necessity, and to refute that of free will in relation to the springs of human action. To those who adopted the vulgar notion of Hume's theory of cause and effect, that it left the phenomena of nature without a ruling principle, the attempt to show that the human mind was bound by necessary laws appeared to be a startling inconsistency—a sort of reversal of the poet's idea,

And binding nature fast in fate,

Left free the human will.

It appeared to remove the chains of necessity from inanimate nature, and rivet them on the will.

But there is a decided principle of connexion between the two doctrines: whether or not it be a principle that will bear scrutiny, is another question. The two systems are identified with each other, simply by the annihilation of the notion of power both in the material and in the immaterial world. As we cannot find in physical causes any power to produce their effect, so when a man moves his arm to strike, or his tongue to reprimand, we have no notion of any power being exercised; but we have an impression that certain impulses are followed, and we can no more suppose that it was at the choice of the individual whether, when these impulses or motives existed, they should or should not be obeyed, than that when the phenomenon called in the material world the cause, made its appearance, there could be any doubt of its being followed by the effect. The inference from this was, that human actions are as much the objects of inductive philosophy as the operations of nature; that they are equally regular, effect following cause as much in the operations of the passions as in those of the elements. Of the application of the theory to his historical observation of events, the following passage is a vivid enunciation:—

"It is universally acknowledged, that there is a great uniformity among the actions of men, in all nations and ages, and that human nature remains still the same in its principles and operations. The same motives always produce the same actions; the same events follow from the same causes. Ambition, avarice, self-love, vanity, friendship, generosity, public spirit; these passions, mixed in various degrees, and distributed through society, have been, from the beginning of the world, and still are, the source of all the actions and enterprises which have ever been observed among mankind. Would you know the sentiments, inclinations, and course of life of the Greeks and Romans? study well the temper and actions of the French and English: you cannot be much mistaken in transferring to the former most of the observations which you have made with regard to the latter. Mankind are so much the same, in all times and places, that history informs us of nothing new or strange in this particular. Its chief use is only to discover the constant and universal principles of human nature, by showing men in all varieties of circumstances and situations, and furnishing us with materials from which we may form our observations, and become acquainted with the regular springs of human action and behaviour. These records of wars, intrigues, factions, and revolutions, are so many collections of experiments, by which the politician or moral philosopher fixes the principles of his science, in the same manner as the physician or natural philosopher becomes acquainted with the nature of plants, minerals, and other external objects, by the experiments which he forms concerning them. Nor are the earth, water, and other elements, examined by Aristotle and Hippocrates, more like to those which at present lie under our observation, than the men described by Polybius and Tacitus are to those who now govern the world.

"Should a traveller, returning from a far country, bring us an account of men wholly different from any with whom we were ever acquainted, men who were entirely divested of avarice, ambition, or revenge, who knew no pleasure but friendship, generosity, and public spirit, we should immediately, from these circumstances, detect the falsehood, and prove him a liar, with the same certainty as if he had stuffed his narration with stories of centaurs and dragons, miracles and prodigies. And if we would explode any forgery in history, we cannot make use of a more convincing argument than to prove, that the actions ascribed to any person are directly contrary to the course of nature, and that no human motives, in such circumstances, could ever induce him to such a conduct. The veracity of Quintus Curtius is as much to be suspected, when he describes the supernatural courage of Alexander, by which he was hurried on singly to attack multitudes, as when he describes his supernatural force and activity, by which he was able to resist them. So readily and universally do we acknowledge a uniformity in human motives and actions, as well as in the operations of body.

"Hence, likewise, the benefit of that experience, acquired by long life and a variety of business and company, in order to instruct us in the principles of human nature, and regulate our future conduct, as well as speculation. By means of this guide we mount up to the knowledge of men's inclinations and motives, from their actions, expressions, and even gestures; and again descend to the interpretation of their actions, from our knowledge of their motives and inclinations. The general observations, treasured up by a course of experience, give us the clue of human nature, and teach us to unravel all its intricacies. Pretexts and appearances no longer deceive us. Public declarations pass for the specious colouring of a cause. And though virtue and honour be allowed their proper weight and authority, that perfect disinterestedness, so often pretended to, is never expected in multitudes and parties, seldom in their leaders, and scarcely even in individuals of any rank or station. But were there no uniformity in human actions, and were every experiment, which we could form of this kind, irregular and anomalous, it were impossible to collect any general observations concerning mankind; and no experience, however accurately digested by reflection, would ever serve to any purpose. Why is the aged husbandman more skilful in his calling than the young beginner, but because there is a certain uniformity in the operation of the sun, rain, and earth, towards the production of vegetables; and experience teaches the old practitioner the rules by which this operation is governed and directed?"[278:1]

How very clearly we find these principles practically illustrated in his History! A disinclination to believe in the narratives of great and remarkable deeds proceeding from peculiar impulses: a propensity, when the evidence adduced in their favour cannot be rebutted, to treat these peculiarities rather as diseases of the mind, than as the operation of noble aspirations: a levelling disposition to find all men pretty much upon a par, and none in a marked manner better or worse than their neighbours: an inclination to doubt all authorities which tended to prove that the British people had any fundamental liberties not possessed by the French and other European nations. Such are the practical fruits of this necessitarian philosophy.

It was on this occasion that Hume promulgated those opinions upon miracles, which we have found him afraid to make public even in that work of which he afterwards regretted the bold and rash character. No part of his writings gave more offence to serious and devout thinkers; but the offence was in the manner of the promulgation, not the matter of the opinions. To understand how this occurred, let us cast a glance for a moment at two opposite classes of religious thinkers, into which a large portion of the Christian world is divided, and find with which, if with either, Hume's opinions coincide.

If we suppose a man, impressed with a feeling of devotion and reverence for a Superior Being, who, seeing in the order of the world and all its movements, the omnipotent, all-wise, and all-merciful guidance of a divine Providence, believes that the Great Being will give to his creatures no revelation that is not in accordance with the merciful harmony of all his ways; and thus devoutly and submissively receives the word of God as promulgated in the Bible; attempts to make it the rule of his actions and opinions; receives with deference the views of those whom the same power that authorized it, has permitted to be the human instruments of its promulgation and explanation; tries to understand what it is within the power of his limited faculties to comprehend; but, implicitly believing that in the shadows of those mysteries which he is unable to penetrate, there lie operations as completely part of one great regular plan, as merciful, as beneficent, and as wise as the outward and comprehensible acts of Providence; who thus never for one moment allows his mind to doubt, where it is unable to comprehend or explain—such a man finds none of his sentiments in the writings of Hume, for he is at once told there that reason and revelation are two disconnected things, that each must act alone, and that the one derives no aid from the other.

But take one who believes that religion is too sacred to be in any way allied with so poor and miserable a thing as erring human reason; who feels that it is not in himself to merit any of the boundless mercies of the atonement; and that to endeavour by his actions, or the direction of his thoughts, to be made a participator in them, is but setting blind reason to lead the blind appetites and desires; who feels that by no act of his own, the true light of the Christian religion has been lighted within him as by a miracle; who has been adopted by a sudden change in his spiritual nature into the family of the faithful—then there is nothing in all Hume's philosophy to militate against the religion of such a man, but rather many arguments in its favour, both implied and expressed.

Since this is the case, it may be asked, why, if one party in religion attacked the opinions of Hume, another did not defend them? why, if Beattie and Warburton couched the lance, Whitefield and John Erskine did not come forward as his champions? In the first place, it was only those who united reason and revelation as going hand in hand and aiding each other, that looked at books of philosophy with an eye to their influence on religion, and such works formed a department of literature in which the advocates of "eternal decrees" would not expect to find much to suit their purpose. But, in the second place, this class of religious thinkers are all, except the few who are hypocrites, devout and serious people, and Hume's method of treating these subjects was not such as they could feel a sympathy with. A want of proper deference for devotional feeling, is a defect that runs through all his works—a constitutional organic defect it might be termed. There is no ribaldry, but at the same time there are no expressions of decent reverence; while this religious party knew from the manner in which their predecessors in the same doctrines were historically treated by Hume, that if there were any coincidence in abstract opinions, there was very little in common between their sympathies and his.

In this same section on miracles, there are repeated protests against the reader assuming that the writer is arguing against the Christian faith. Against some Catholic miracles, which were asserted to be proved by testimony as strong as that which attested the miracles of our Saviour, he says, "As if the testimony of man could ever be put in the balance with that of God himself, who conducted the pen of the inspired writers!" and again, "Our most holy religion is founded on faith, not on reason; and it is a sure method of exposing it to put it to such a trial as it is by no means fitted to endure." These protests however were made briefly and coldly, and in such a manner as made people feel, that if Hume believed in the doctrines they announced, he certainly had not his heart in them. Hence, although, since the origin of rationalism, evangelical Christians have frequently had recourse to the arguments of Hume, there was long in that quarter a not unnatural reluctance to appeal to them.

It is perhaps one of the most remarkable warnings against hasty judgments on the effects of efforts of subtle reasoning, that, according to later scientific discoveries, no two things are in more perfect unison than Hume's theory of belief in miracles, and the belief that miracles, according to the common acceptation of the term, have actually taken place. The leading principle of this theory is, in conformity with its author's law of cause and effect, that where our experience has taught us that two things follow each other as cause and effect by an unvarying sequence, if we hear of an instance in which this has not been the case, we ought to doubt the truth of the narrative. In other words, if we are told of some circumstance having taken place out of the usual order of nature, we ought not to believe it; because the circumstance of the narrator having been deceived, or of his designedly telling a falsehood, is more probable than an event contradictory to all previous authenticated experience. It is a rule for marking the boundary and proper application of the inductive system, and one that is highly serviceable to science. But, in applying it to use, we must not be led away by the narrow application, in common conversation, of the word experience. There is the experience of the common workman, and there is the experience of the philosopher. There is that observation of phenomena which makes a ditcher know that the difficulty of pulling out a loosened stone with a mattock indicates it to be so many inches thick; and that observation, fully as sure, which shows the geologist that the stratum of the Pennsylvanian grauwacke is upwards of a hundred miles thick. The experience and observation of the husbandman teach him, that when the opposite hill is distinct to his view, the intervening atmosphere is not charged with vapour; but observation, not less satisfactory, shows the astronomer that Jupiter and the Moon have around them no atmosphere such as that by which our planet is enveloped. Now there is nothing more fully founded on experimental observation than the fact, that there was a time when the present order of the world was not in existence. That there have been convulsions, such as, did we now hear of their contemporary occurrence, instead of attesting their past existence through the sure course of observation and induction, we would at once maintain to be impossible. To this then, and this only, comes the theory of miracles, that at the present day, and for a great many years back, the accounts that are given of circumstances having taken place out of the general order of nature, are to be discredited, because between the two things to be believed, the falsehood of the narrative is more likely than the truth of the occurrence. But the very means by which we arrive at this conclusion bring us to another, that there was a time to which the rules taken from present observation of the course of nature did not apply.[283:1]

That in history, in science, in the conduct of every-day life, and particularly in the formation of the minds of the young, this rule of belief is of the highest practical utility, few will doubt. The parish clergyman, who assists in throwing discredit on all the superstitious stories of spectres, witchcrafts, and demoniacal possessions with which his neighbourhood may be afflicted, is but an active promulgator of the doctrine. It was a narrow view that Campbell adopted when he said, that if we heard of a ferry boat, which had long crossed the stream in safety, having sunk, we would give credit to the testimony concerning it.[284:1] Our experience teaches us that ferry boats are made of perishable materials, liable to be submerged; and thus, in this case, there is no balance of incredibility against the narrator. To have tried Campbell's practical faith in Hume's theory, he should have had before him a person professing to have become aware of the sinking of the boat, by some unprecedented means of perception, called a magnetic influence, in the absence of a more distinct name; while it is shown that the same person had an opportunity of being informed, through the organs of hearing, of the circumstance which had taken place. It would then be seen, whether that sagacious philosopher would have given the sanction of his belief to a phenomenon contrary to all previous experience—the ascertainment of an external event, without the aid of the senses; or would have acceded to the too commonly illustrated phenomenon, that human beings are capable of falsehood and folly.

It is much to be regretted that Hume employed the word miracles in the title of this inquiry. He thus employed a term which had been applied to sacred subjects, and raised a natural prejudice against reasonings, applicable to contemporary events, and to the rules of ordinary historical belief. He might have found some other title—such as, "The Principles of Belief in Human Testimony," which would have more satisfactorily explained the nature of the inquiry.

But it is not improbable that the odium thus occasioned first introduced Hume's philosophical works to controversial notoriety. Though disappointed by the silence of the public immediately on his arrival from abroad, he has soon to tell us in his "own life,"—"Meanwhile, my bookseller, A. Millar, informed me, that my former publications (all but the unfortunate Treatise) were beginning to be the subject of conversation; that the sale of them was gradually increasing, and that new editions were demanded. Answers by reverends and right reverends came out two and three in a year;[285:1] and I found, by Warburton's railing, that the books were beginning to be esteemed in good company."[285:2]

It was in the "Inquiry concerning the Human Understanding," that Hume promulgated the theory of association, which called forth so much admiration of its simplicity, beauty, and truth. "To me," he says, "there appear to be only three principles of connexion among ideas, namely, Resemblance, Contiguity in time or place, and Cause or Effect.

"That these principles serve to connect ideas, will not, I believe, be much doubted. A picture naturally leads our thoughts to the original [Resemblance.] The mention of one apartment in a building, naturally introduces an inquiry or discourse concerning the others [Contiguity:] and if we think on a wound, we can scarcely forbear reflecting on the pain which follows it [Cause and Effect.]"[286:1]

In connexion with this theory a curious charge has been brought forward by Coleridge, who says, "In consulting the excellent commentary of St. Thomas Aquinas, on the Parva Naturalia of Aristotle, I was struck at once with its close resemblance to Hume's essay on association. The main thoughts were the same in both. The order of the thoughts was the same, and even the illustrations differed only by Hume's occasional substitution of more modern examples. I mentioned the circumstance to several of my literary acquaintances, who admitted the closeness of the resemblance, and that it seemed too great to be explained by mere coincidence; but they thought it improbable that Hume should have held the pages of the angelic doctor worth turning over. But some time after, Mr. Payne of the King's Mews, showed Sir James Mackintosh some odd volumes of St. Thomas Aquinas, partly perhaps from having heard that Sir James, (then Mr. Mackintosh,) had in his lectures passed a high encomium on this canonized philosopher, but chiefly from the fact that the volumes had belonged to Mr. Hume, and had here and there marginal marks and notes of reference in his own handwriting. Among these volumes was that which contains the Parva Naturalia, in the old Latin version, swathed and swaddled in the commentary aforementioned."

On this, Sir James Macintosh says, that "the manuscript of a part of Aquinas, which I bought many years ago, (on the faith of a bookseller's catalogue,) as being written by Mr. Hume, was not a copy of the commentary on the Parva Naturalia, but of Aquinas's own Secunda Secundæ; and that, on examination, it proves not to be the handwriting of Mr. Hume, and to contain nothing written by him."[287:1] So much for the external evidence of plagiarism.

With regard to the internal evidence, the passage of Aquinas particularly referred to, which will be found below,[287:2] refers to memory not imagination; to the recall of images in the relation to each other in which they have once had a place in the mind, not to the formation of new associations, or aggregates of ideas there; nor will it bring the theories to an identity, that, according to Hume's doctrine, nothing can be recalled in the mind unless its elements have already been deposited there in the form of ideas, because the observations of Aquinas apply altogether to the reminiscence of aggregate objects. But the classification is different: for Hume's embodies cause and effect, but not contrariety; while that of Aquinas has contrariety, but not cause and effect. In a division into three elements, this discrepancy is material; and, without entering on any lengthened reasoning, it may simply be observed, that the merit of Hume's classification is, that it is exhaustive, and neither contains any superfluous element, nor omits any principle under which an act of association can be classed.

But it is remarkable that Coleridge should have failed to keep in view, in his zeal to discover some curious thing to reward him for his researches among the fathers, that the classification is not that of Aquinas, but of Aristotle, and is contained in the very work on which the passage in Aquinas is one of the many commentaries.[288:1]

The "Essays Moral and Political," had, though it is not mentioned by Hume in his "own life," been so well received, that a second edition appeared in 1742, the same year in which the second volume of the original edition was published. A third edition was published in London in 1748,[289:1] of which Hume, comparing them with his neglected contemporaneous publication of the Inquiry, says that they "met not with a much better reception."

Two essays, which had appeared in the previous editions, were omitted in the third. One of these, "Of Essay Writing," was evidently written at the time when the author had the design of publishing his work periodically,[289:2] and was meant as a prospectus or announcement to the readers, of the method in which he proposed to address them in his periodical papers. The other was a "Character of Sir Robert Walpole;" a curious attempt to take an impartial estimate of a man who, at the time of the first publication, had been longer in office, and was surrounded by a more numerous and powerful band of enemies, than any previous British statesman. But between the two publications the enemies had triumphed; and the statesman of forty years had been driven into retirement, where death speedily relieved him from a scene of inaction, which might have been repose to others, but was to him an insupportable solitude. Party rage had consequently changed its direction, and that air of solemn deliberation which, while the statesman was moving between the admiration of his friends and the hatred of his enemies, had an appearance of resolute stoical impartiality, might have appeared strained and affected, if the essay had been republished in 1748.

To this third edition three essays were added, "Of National Characters," "Of the Original Contract," and "Of Passive Obedience." The first of these contains some very curious incidental notices of ancient morals and habits, so adapted to modern colloquial language and habits, as to make the descriptions as clear to the unlearned as to the learned; as, for example, the following notices of the drinking practices of the ancients:—

"The ancient Greeks, though born in a warm climate, seem to have been much addicted to the bottle; nor were their parties of pleasure any thing but matches of drinking among men, who passed their time altogether apart from the fair. Yet when Alexander led the Greeks into Persia, a still more southern climate, they multiplied their debauches of this kind, in imitation of the Persian manners.[290:1] So honourable was the character of a drunkard among the Persians, that Cyrus the younger, soliciting the sober Lacedemonians for succour against his brother Artaxerxes, claims it chiefly on account of his superior endowments, as more valorous, more bountiful, and a better drinker.[290:2] Darius Hystaspes made it be inscribed on his tomb-stone, among his other virtues and princely qualities, that no one could bear a greater quantity of liquor."

The other two essays, though bearing on subjects which have now almost dropped out of political discussion, "The Original Contract," and "Passive Obedience," trod close on the heels of the long conflict in which Milton, Salmasius, Hobbes, Sidney, Locke, and Filmer, had been partakers; and while the din of arms was far from being exhausted, they professed to hold the balance equally between the combatants, or, more properly speaking, to examine philosophically the merits of the theory of each party, without taking up the angry arguments of either. They are, in truth, but a farther adaptation to politics of those utilitarian theories which Hume had previously applied both to private morals and to government. And the principle they promulgate is, that the citizen's allegiance to the laws and constitution of his country, has its proper foundation neither in an acknowledgment of the divine right of any governor, nor in a contract with him by which both parties are bound, but in the moral duty of respecting internal peace and order, and of avoiding outbreaks which may plunge the people into anarchy and misery, to gratify the pride or baser passions of turbulent individuals.

It must have been on his return on this occasion, that Hume rejoined the family circle at Ninewells, bereaved of the parent whose devotion to his training and education he has so affectionately commemorated. "I went down," he says, "in 1749, and lived two years with my brother at his country house, for my mother was now dead."[291:1] In a letter, which will have to be afterwards referred to, by Dr. Black, to Adam Smith, written when Hume was on his death-bed, and in relation to his final illness, there is the remark, "His mother," he says, "had precisely the same constitution with himself, and died of this very disorder."

On this subject, the American traveller, Silliman, gave currency to a foolish and improbable story, which he puts in the following shape:—

"It seems that Hume received a religious education from his mother, and early in life was the subject of strong and hopeful religious impressions; but, as he approached manhood, they were effaced, and confirmed infidelity succeeded. Maternal partiality, however alarmed at first, came at length to look with less and less pain upon this declension, and filial love and reverence seem to have been absorbed in the pride of philosophical scepticism; for Hume now applied himself with unwearied, and unhappily with successful efforts, to sap the foundation of his mother's faith. Having succeeded in this dreadful work, he went abroad into foreign countries; and as he was returning, an express met him in London, with a letter from his mother, informing him that she was in a deep decline, and could not long survive: she said, she found herself without any support in her distress; that he had taken away that source of comfort, upon which, in all cases of affliction, she used to rely, and that now she found her mind sinking into despair. She did not doubt but her son would afford her some substitute for her religion; and she conjured him to hasten to her, or at least to send her a letter, containing such consolations as philosophy can afford to a dying mortal. Hume was overwhelmed with anguish on receiving this letter, and hastened to Scotland, travelling day and night; but before he arrived his mother expired. No permanent impression seems, however, to have been made on his mind by this most trying event; and whatever remorse he might have felt at the moment, he soon relapsed into his wonted obduracy of heart."

This story, probably told after dinner, and invented on the spot,—the American narrator's unfortunate name perhaps rendering him peculiarly liable to the machinations of the mischievous,—is totally at variance with Hume's character. He was no propagandist; and, indeed, seems ever to have felt, that a firm faith in Christianity, unshaken by any doubts, was an invaluable privilege, of which it would be as much more cruel to deprive a fellow-creature than to rob him of his purse, as the one possession is more valuable than the other. Hence we shall find, that his conversation was acceptable to women and to clergymen, who never feared in his presence to encounter any sentiment that might shock their feelings; and what is more to the point, parents were never afraid of trusting their children to his care and social attentions, and indeed thought it a high privilege to obtain them.

The appearance of the above passage in a notice of "Silliman's Travels" in The Quarterly Review, called forth a remonstrance from Baron Hume, which elicited the following statement from the editor:—[293:1]

"That anecdote he has shown to be false by unquestionable dates, and by a circumstance related in the manuscript memoirs of the late Dr. Carlyle, an eminent clergyman of the Scottish Church, and friend of the historian. The circumstance, interesting in itself, and decisive on the subject, we transcribe, in the words of the manuscript, from the letter before us:—

"David and he (the Hon. Mr. Boyle, brother of the Earl of Glasgow) were both in London at the period when David's mother died. Mr. Boyle, hearing of it, soon after went into his apartment, for they lodged in the same house, where he found him in the deepest affliction, and in a flood of tears. After the usual topics of condolence, Mr. Boyle said to him, 'My friend, you owe this uncommon grief to having thrown off the principles of religion; for if you had not, you would have been consoled with the firm belief that the good lady, who was not only the best of mothers but the most pious of Christians, was completely happy in the realms of the just.' To which David replied, 'Though I throw out my speculations to entertain the learned and metaphysical world, yet, in other things, I do not think so differently from the rest of the world as you imagine.'"[294:1]

One of Hume's most intimate friends was Dr. Clephane, a physician in considerable practice in London. They appear to have become acquainted with each other during the expedition to Port L'Orient, in which Clephane was probably a medical officer, as Hume, in his letters about his own half-pay, speaks of him as in the same position with himself. The correspondence is characterized by the thorough ease and polite familiarity of the camp, and none of Hume's letters are fuller of his playful spirit than those addressed to his brother officer.

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"Ιητρὸς γὰρ ἀνηρ πολλῶν ἀντάξιος ἄλλων.[296:1]

"Dear Doctor,—I have here received a great many thanks from an honest man, who tells me that he and all his family have been extremely obliged to me. This is my brother's gardener, who showed me a letter from his son, wherein he acknowledges that he owes his life to your care; that you placed him in an hospital, and attended him with as much assiduity as if he had been the best nobleman in the land; that all he shall ever be worth will never be able to repay you: and that therefore he must content himself with being grateful: at the same time desiring his father to give me thanks, by whose means he was recommended to you.

"These thanks I received with great gravity, and replied, that one must always endeavour to do good when it is in one's power. In short, I took upon me your part, and gave myself as many airs as if I had really shown the same beneficent dispositions. I considered that you have good deeds to spare, and are possessed of greater store of merits and works of supererogation, than any church, Pagan, Mahometan, or Catholic, ever was entitled to, and that, therefore, to rob you a little was no great crime:—

——cui plura supersunt,

Et fallunt dominum, et prosunt furibus.[297:1]

"I hope, dear Doctor, you find virtue its own reward—that, methinks, is but just—considering it is the only reward it is ever likely to meet with—in this world I mean; at least you may take your own reward yourself for me. I shall never trouble my head about the matter, and you need not expect that I shall even like or esteem you the better for this instance of your charity and humanity. You fancy, I suppose, that I already liked and esteemed you so much, that this makes no sensible addition. You may fancy what you please: I shall not so much as speak another word upon this subject, but proceed to a better. You shall see.

"You would perhaps ask, how I employ my time in this leisure and solitude, and what are my occupations? Pray, do you expect I should convey to you an encyclopedia, in the compass of a letter? The last thing I took my hand from was a very learned, elaborate discourse, concerning the populousness of antiquity; not altogether in opposition to Vossius and Montesquieu, who exaggerate that affair infinitely; but, starting some doubts, and scruples, and difficulties, sufficient to make us suspend our judgment on that head. Amongst other topics, it fell in my way to consider the greatness of ancient Rome; and in looking over the discourse, I find the following period. 'If we may judge by the younger Pliny's account of his house, and by the plans of ancient buildings in Dr. Mead's collection, the men of quality had very spacious palaces, and their buildings were like the Chinese houses, where each apartment is separate from the rest, and rises no higher than a single story.'[298:1] Pray, on what authority are those plans founded? If I remember right, I was told they were discovered on the walls of the baths, and other subterraneous buildings. Is this the proper method of citing them? If you have occasion to communicate this to Dr. Mead, I beg that my sincere respects may be joined.

"I think the parsons have lately used the physicians very ill, for, in all the common terrors of mankind, you used commonly both to come in for a share of the profit: but in this new fear of earthquakes, they have left you out entirely, and have pretended alone to give prescriptions to the multitude.[298:2] I remember, indeed, Mr. Addison talks of a quack that advertised pills for an earthquake, at a time when people lay under such terrors as they do at present. But I know not if any of the faculty have imitated him at this time. I see only a Pastoral Letter of the Bishop of London, where, indeed, he recommends certain pills, such as fasting, prayer, repentance, mortification, and other drugs, which are entirely to come from his own shop. And I think this is very unfair in him, and you have great reason to be offended; for why might he not have added, that medicinal powders and potions would also have done service? The worst is, that you dare not revenge yourself in kind, by advising your patients to have nothing to do with the parson; for you are sure he has a faster hold of them than you, and you may yourself be discharged on such an advice.[299:1]

"You'll scarcely believe what I am going to tell you; but it is literally true. Millar had printed off, some months ago, a new edition of certain philosophical essays, but he tells me very gravely that he has delayed publishing because of the earthquakes.[300:1] I wish you may not also be a loser by the same common calamity; for I am told the ladies were so frightened, they took the rattling of every coach for an earthquake; and therefore would employ no physicians but from amongst the infantry: insomuch that some of you charioteers had not gained enough to pay the expenses of your vehicle. But this may only be waggery and banter, which I abhor. Please remember to give my respects to the General, and Sir Harry, and Captain Grant, who I hope are all in good health: indeed, as to the Captain, I do not know what to hope, or wish; for if he recover his health, he loses his shape, and must always remain in that perplexing dilemma.—Remember me also to Suncey Glassaugh,[300:2] and remember me yourself.

"Ninewells, near Berwick, April 18, 1750.

"P.S.—Pray, did Guidelianus[300:3] get his money, allowed him by the Pay-office? I suppose he is in Ireland, poor devil! so I give you no commission with regard to him.

"Pray, tell Glassaugh that I hope he has not suppressed the paper I sent him about the new year.[301:1] If he has, pray ask for a sight of it, for it is very witty. I contrived it one night that I could not sleep for the tortures of rheumatism; and you have heard of a great lady, who always put on blisters, when she wanted to be witty. 'Tis a receipt I recommend to you."[301:2]

The following letter to Oswald shows us that Hume was, at the time it was written, earnestly engaged in the preparation of the "Essays on Political Economy," which he published in 1752.

Hume to James Oswald of Dunnikier.

"Dear Sir,—I confess I was a little displeased with you for neglecting me so long; but you have made ample compensation. This commerce, I find, is of advantage to both of us; to me, by the new lights you communicate, and to you, by giving you occasion to examine these subjects more accurately. I shall here deliver my opinion of your reasonings with the freedom which you desire.

"I never meant to say that money, in all countries which communicate, must necessarily be on a level, but on a level proportioned to their people, industry, and commodities. That is, where there is double people, &c. there will be double money, and so on; and that the only way of keeping or increasing money is, by keeping and increasing the people and industry; not by prohibitions of exporting money, or by taxes on commodities, the methods commonly thought of. I believe we differ little on this head. You allow, that if all the money in England were increased fourfold in one night, there would be a sudden rise of prices; but then, say you, the importation of foreign commodities would soon lower the prices. Here, then, is the flowing out of the money already begun. But, say you, a small part of this stock of money would suffice to buy foreign commodities, and lower the prices. I grant it would for one year, till the imported commodities be consumed. But must not the same thing be renewed next year? No, say you; the additional stock of money may, in this interval, so increase the people and industry, as to enable them to retain their money. Here I am extremely pleased with your reasoning. I agree with you, that the increase of money, if not too sudden, naturally increases people and industry, and by that means may retain itself; but if it do not produce such an increase, nothing will retain it except hoarding. Suppose twenty millions brought into Scotland; suppose that, by some fatality, we take no advantage of this to augment our industry or people, how much would remain in the quarter of a century? not a shilling more than we have at present. My expression in the Essay needs correction, which has occasioned you to mistake it.

"Your enumeration of the advantages of rich countries above poor, in point of trade, is very just and curious; but I cannot agree with you that, barring ill policy or accidents, the former might proceed gaining upon the latter for ever. The growth of every thing, both in art and nature, at last checks itself. The rich country would acquire and retain all the manufactures that require great stock or great skill; but the poor country would gain from it all the simpler and more laborious. The manufactures of London, you know, are steel, lace, silk, books, coaches, watches, furniture, fashions; but the outlying provinces have the linen and woollen trade.

"The distance of China is a physical impediment to the communication, by reducing our commerce to a few commodities; and by heightening the price of these commodities, on account of the long voyage, the monopolies, and the taxes. A Chinese works for three-halfpence a-day, and is very industrious; were he as near us as France or Spain, every thing we used would be Chinese, till money and prices came to a level; that is, to such a level as is proportioned to the numbers of people, industry, and commodities of both countries.

"A part of our public funds serve in place of money; for our merchants, but still more our bankers, keep less cash by them when they have stock, because they can dispose of that upon any sudden demand. This is not the case with the French funds. The rentes of the Hotel de Ville are not transferable, but are most of them entailed in the families. At least, I know there is a great difference in this respect betwixt them and the actions of the Indian Company.

"That the industry and people of Spain, after the discovery of the West Indies, at first increased more than is commonly imagined, is a very curious fact; and I doubt not but you say so upon good authority, though I have not met with that observation in any author.

"Beside the bad effects of the paper credit in our colonies, as it was a cheat, it must also be allowed that it banished gold and silver, by supplying their place. On the whole, my intention in the Essay was to remove people's terrors, who are apt, from chimerical calculations, to imagine they are losing their specie, though they can show in no instance that either their people or industry diminish; and also to expose the absurdity of guarding money otherwise than by watching over the people and their industry, and preserving or increasing them. To prohibit the exportation of money, or the importation of commodities, is mistaken policy; and I have the pleasure of seeing you agree with me.

"I have no more to say, but compliments; and therefore shall conclude. I am," &c.[304:1]

"Ninewells, 1st November, 1750."

In 1750 there was published in Edinburgh, an edition of Montesquieu's "Esprit des Loix; avec les dernieres corrections et illustrations de l'Auteur."[304:2] That Hume was instrumental to this publication, is shown by the letters addressed to him by Montesquieu between the years 1749 and 1753, printed in the appendix. It appears, that, as he there intimates, the author sent over a copy of his corrections and illustrations; but the work must have been partly printed before their arrival, for, in the advertisement to the reader, it is stated that a few of the earliest sheets, where the more important amendments occurred, had to be reprinted, while some minor alterations are supplied by a list of corrections.

Montesquieu's appreciation of some of Hume's ethical works will be read with interest. Hume appears to have made the first advances towards an intimacy; and the great Frenchman, then in his sixtieth year, seems to have hailed with satisfaction the appearance of a kindred spirit, and to have received his proffers with warm cordiality. This is the commencement of that intercourse with his eminent contemporaries in France, which we shall hereafter find to occupy a prominent feature in Hume's literary and social history.

At this period we find Hume taking much interest in the conduct of a certain James Fraser, in connexion with the Westminster election of 1749—one of the marked epochs in the parliamentary history of that renowned constituency. The candidates were Lord Trentham the eldest son of Earl Gower, and Sir George Vandeput, of whom the former was returned by the high bailiff. Sir George Vandeput was the "independent" candidate, representing the "English interest." Lord Trentham was a placeman, and was accused of a partiality for French interests. Though the Jacobites were ranged on the Vandeput side, Lord Trentham was by implication accused of having favoured the exiled family; as by one of the election placards issued on the occasion, the voters are desired to "ask Lord Trentham, who had his foot in the stirrup in the year 1715?" He was charged with having sacrificed his country or Jacobite principles for a place, and with being that most abhorred of all political characters, an ex-patriot, who has ratted to obtain office. Shortly before the election, a riotous attack had been made on a small French theatre, which had become peculiarly unpopular by obtaining a licence, when some English establishments had been suppressed under Walpole's act. It appears that Lord Trentham had, with some others, endeavoured to preserve the friendless foreigners from the fury of the mob. So un-English an act, as this harbouring and protecting of foreign vagabonds, against the just indignation of true born Britons, was very successfully displayed as an overt act in favour of Popery, Jacobitism, and French ascendency; and the skilful manner in which it was improved, in the hand-bills, and pasquinades of the Vandeput party, shows that this department of the electioneering art was not then far from its present state of maturity.[306:1]

A pretty minute investigation has not enabled me to discover what precise conduct in connexion with this affair was important enough to elicit from Hume the elaborate joke against Fraser embodied in the following papers. He was evidently a medical man, but he does not appear in the list of those who attested Mr. Murray's health, or were appointed to visit him. He certainly acted on the Vandeput side, yet his name is nowhere mentioned, in connexion with it, in a pretty large collection of documents relating to this election, which I have had an opportunity of consulting.[307:1]

Fraser was evidently, like Clephane, one of the medical officers in General St. Clair's expedition, for, in a previous letter to Colonel Abercromby, Hume mentions him as an officer in the royal regiment.[307:2] He appears to have been a thorough Jacobite, for, in another letter, Hume speaks of him as one of the extreme persons whom his history will displease by its too great partiality to the Whigs. A very pleasing and natural description of his character is given by Hume, in a letter to Clephane, a little farther on.[308:1]

The following document was sent to Colonel Abercromby, along with the explanatory letters which immediately follow it.

To the Right Honourable the Lord Chief Justice Reason, and the Honourable the Judges Discretion, Prudence, Reserve, and Deliberation, the Petition of the Patients of Westminster, against James Fraser, Apothecary.

Most humbly showeth,

That your petitioners had put themselves and families under the direction and care of the said James Fraser, and had so continued for several years, to their great mutual benefit and emolument.

That many of your petitioners had, under his management, recovered from the most desperate and deplorable maladies, such as megrims, toothaches, cramps, stitches, vapours, crosses in love, &c. which wonderful success, after the blessing of God, they can ascribe to nothing but his consummate skill and capacity, since many of their neighbours, labouring under the same distresses, died every day, by the mistakes of less learned apothecaries.

That there are many disconsolate widows among your petitioners, who believed themselves, and were believed by all their neighbours, to be dying of grief; but as soon as the said James Fraser applied lenitives, and proper topical medicines, they were observed to recover wonderfully.

That in all hypochondriacal cases he was sovereign, in so much that his very presence dispelled the malady, cheering the sight, exciting a gentle agitation of the muscles of the lungs and thorax, and thereby promoting expectoration, exhilaration, circulation, and digestion.

That your petitioners verily believe, that not many more have died from amongst them, under the administration of the said James Fraser, than actually die by the course of nature in places where physic is not at all known or practised; which will scarcely be credited in this sceptical and unbelieving age.

That all this harmony and good agreement betwixt your petitioners and the said James Fraser had lately been disturbed, to the great detriment of your petitioners and their once numerous families.

That the said James Fraser, associating himself with —— Carey, surgeon, and William Guthrey, Esq. and other evil intentioned persons, not having the fear of God before their eyes, had given himself entirely up to the care of Dame Public, and had utterly neglected your petitioners.

That the lady above mentioned was of a most admirable CONSTITUTION, envied by all who had ever seen her or heard of her; and was only afflicted sometimes with vapours, and sometimes with a looseness or flux, which not being of the bloody kind, those about her were rather pleased with it.

That notwithstanding this, the said James Fraser uses all diligence and art to persuade the said lady that she is in the most desperate case imaginable, and that nothing will recover her but a medicine he has prepared, being a composition of pulvis pyrius,[310:1] along with a decoction of northern steel, and an infusion of southern aqua sacra or holy water.

That the medicine, or rather poison, was at first wrapt up under a wafer marked Patriotism, but had since been attempted to be administrated without any cover or disguise.

That a dose of it had secretly been poured down the throat of the said Dame Public, while she was asleep, and had been attended with the most dismal symptoms, visibly heightening her vapours, and increasing her flux, and even producing some symptoms of the bloody kind; and had she not thrown it up with great violence, it had certainly proved fatal to her.

That the said James Fraser and his associates, now finding that the Catholicon does not agree with the constitution of the said Dame, prescribed to her large doses of Phillipiacum, Cottontium,[310:2] and Vandeputiana,[310:3] in order to alter her constitution, and prepare her body for the reception of the said Catholicon.

That he had even been pleased to see Lovitium[310:4] applied to her, though known to be a virulent caustic, and really no better than a lapis infernalis.

That while the medicines Goveriacum and Trentuntium[311:1] were very violent, resembling sublimate of high flown mercury, he also much approved of them, but since they were mollified by late operations, and made as innocent as mercurius dulcis, they were become his utter aversion.

That the said James Fraser, through his whole practice on the said Dame Public, entirely rejected all lenitives, soporifics, palliatives, &c. though approved of by the regular and graduate physicians, as Dr. Pelham, Dr. Fox, Dr. Pitt; and that he prescribed nothing but chemical salts and stimulating medicines, in which regimen none but quacks and empirics who had never taken their degrees will agree with him.

That your petitioners remember the story of an Irish servant to a physician, which seems fitted to the present purpose. The doctor bid Teague carry a potion to a patient, and tell him it was the most innocent in the world, and if it did him no good, could do him no harm. The footman obeys, but unluckily transposing a word, said, that if it did him no harm it could do him no good. And your petitioners are much afraid that the catholicon above mentioned is much of the same nature.

May it therefore please your worships to discharge the said James Fraser from any farther attendance on the said Dame Public, and to order him to return to the care and inspection of your petitioners and their families.

The following is entitled, "True letter to Colonel Abercromby, to be first read."

"Dear Colonel,—Endeavour to make Fraser believe I am in earnest. If the thing takes, you may easily find somebody to personate Mr. Cockburn; and you may swear to the truth of the whole. To make it more probable, you may say that you suspect too much study has made me crazy; otherwise I had never thought of so foolish a thing.

"If there be any probability of succeeding, an advertisement, like that which is on the following page, may be put into any of the public papers—that is, if you think que le jeu vaut la chandelle.

"My compliments to Mrs. Abercromby. I hope some day to regain her good opinion. It shall be the great object of my ambition.

"Tell the Doctor I shall answer him sooner than he did me. He will assist you very well in any cheat or roguery: but do not attempt it, unless you think you can all be masters of your countenance. This is a note, not a letter. Yours sincerely.

"P.S. Read Fraser the letter, but do not put it into his hands; he will tear it. Show him first my other letter to you."

"Advertisement.—Speedily will be published, price 1s. A letter to a certain turbulent Patriot in Westminster, from a friend in the country.

——Et spargere voces

In vulgum ambiguas, et quærere conscius arma.—Virgil."

The following is the letter which, in pursuance of the arrangements for completing this complicated joke, Colonel Abercromby was to read to Fraser. Its tone of mock heroic will at once be detected, and indeed, when the spilling of the last drop of blood, "or of ink," is with so much simplicity made an alternative, it may be presumed that James Fraser was a very obtuse being, if he believed these protestations to be serious.

"Dear Sir,—This will be delivered you by Mr. William Cockburn, a friend of mine, who travels to London for the first time. I have taken the opportunity to send up by him a manuscript, which I intend to have printed. I have ordered him first to read it to you; but not to trust it out of his hands. You can scarce be surprised that I treat Mr. Fraser so roughly in it. No man, who loves his country, can be a friend to that gentleman, considering his late as well as former behaviour. For if I be rightly informed, his conduct shows no more the spirit of submission and tranquillity than that of prudence and discretion; and if he goes on at this rate, you yourself will be obliged to renounce all connexion and friendship with him.

"I have been ill of late; and am very low at present from the loss of blood which they have drawn from me. My friends would hinder me from reading; but my books and my pen are my only comfort and occupation; and while I am master of a drop of blood or of ink, I will joyfully spill it in the cause of my country. I am, Dear Sir,

"Your most obedient humble servant."

"Ninewells, Feb. 16th, 1751."

In the following letter to Dr. Clephane, we find that the practical joke on James Fraser, which seems to have given a good deal of employment to the wits of a great philosopher, a learned physician, and a gallant colonel, is still a matter which Hume has very much at heart; while at the same time he seems to have been amusing himself with some other jocular effusions. The letter presents us with his first commemoration of the poetical genius of his friend, John Home, though it gives no forecast of the zeal with which he subsequently advocated his countryman's claims to originality and high genius. The dramatic critic will probably feel an interest in the light thrown on Hume's appreciation of Shakspere by the manner in which his name is connected with that of Racine.

Hume to Dr. Clephane.

"Ninewells, near Berwick,
18th February, 1751.

"Dear Doctor,—I will not pay you so bad a compliment as to say I was not angry with you for neglecting me so long; that would be to suppose I was indifferent whether I had any share in your memory or friendship. However, since there is nothing in it but the old vice of indolence,

Non ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco.

Ed io anche sóno Pittore, as Correggio said; I am therefore resolved to forgive you, and to keep myself in a proper disposition for saying the Lord's prayer, whenever I shall find space enough for it.

"I must own I could not but think you excusable, even before you disarmed me by your submission and penitence; 'tis so common an artifice for provincials to hook on a correspondence with a Londoner, under pretext of friendship and regard, that a jealousy on that head is very pardonable in the latter. But I ought not to lie under that general suspicion; for the fashionable songs I cannot sing; the present or the expectant ministers I have no interest in; the old good books I have not yet all read or pondered sufficiently; and the current stories and bon mots, I would not repeat if I knew them. You see, therefore, that if I were not concerned about Dr. Clephane, I never should desire to hear from him, and consequently that a line of his would be equally acceptable whether it comes from London or Crookhaven.

"I have executed your desire and the Colonel's as well as I could, but have not, I believe, succeeded so well as last year: the subject, indeed, was exhausted, and the patient may justly, I fear, be esteemed incurable. I leave you to manage the matter as you best can: but I beg of you to conduct it, so as not to make a quarrel betwixt Fraser and me; he is an honest, good-humoured, friendly, pleasant fellow, (though, it must be confessed, a little turbulent and impetuous,) and I should be sorry to disoblige him. The Colonel would be heartily bit, if by this or any other means Fraser should be cured of his politics and patriotism; all his friends would lose a great deal of diversion, and certainly would not like him near so well, if he were more cool and reasonable, and moderate, and prudent. But these are vices he is in no manner of danger of. Is it likely that reason will prevail against nature, habit, company, education, and prejudice? I leave you to judge.

"But since I am in the humour of displaying my wit, I must tell you that lately, at an idle hour, I wrote a sheet called the Bellman's Petition: wherein (if I be not partial, which I certainly am,) there was some good pleasantry and satire. The Printers in Edinburgh refused to print it, (a good sign, you'll say, of my prudence and discretion.) Mr. Mure, the member, has a copy of it; ask it of him if you meet with him, or bid the Colonel, who sees him every day at the house, ask it, and if you like it read it to the General, and then return it. I will not boast, for I have no manner of vanity; but when I think of the present dulness of London, I cannot forbear exclaiming,

Rome n'est pas dans Rome,

C'est par tout où je suis.

A namesake of mine has wrote a Tragedy, which he expects to come on this winter.[316:1] I have not seen it, but some people commend it much. 'Tis very likely to meet with success, and not to deserve it, for the author tells me, he is a great admirer of Shakspere, and never read Racine.

"When I take a second perusal of your letter, I find you resemble the Papists, who deal much in penitence, but neglect extremely les bonnes œuvres. I asked you a question with regard to the plans of ancient buildings in Dr. Mead's collection.[316:2] Pray, are they authentic enough to be cited in a discourse of erudition and reasoning? have they never been published in any collection? and what are the proper terms in which I ought to cite them? I know you are a great proficient in the virtu, and consequently can resolve my doubts. This word I suppose you pretend to speak with an (e), which I own is an improvement: but admitting your orthography, you must naturally have a desire of doing a good-natured action, and instructing the ignorant.

"It appears to me that apothecaries bear the same relation to physicians, that priests do to philosophers; the ignorance of the former makes them positive, and dogmatical, and assuming, and enterprising, and pretending, and consequently much more taking with the people. Follow my example—let us not trouble ourselves about the matter; let the one stuff the beasts' guts with antimony, and the other their heads with divinity, what is that to us? according to the Greek proverb, they are no more, but as ες την αμιδα ενουρουντες.

"You may tell me, indeed, that I mistake the matter quite; that it is not your kindness for the people, which makes you concerned, but something else. In short, that if self-interest were not in the case, they might take clysters, and physic, and ipecacuanha, till they were tired of them. Now, dear Doctor, this mercenary way of thinking I never could have suspected you of, and am heartily ashamed to find you of such a temper.

"If you answer this any time within the twelve months 'tis sufficient, and I promise not to answer you next at less than six months' interval; and so, as the Germans say, je me recomante a fos ponnes craces. Yours, &c."

The "Bellman's Petition," more than once alluded to in Hume's letters, is a little jeu d'esprit, to which he seems to have attributed far more than its due importance. The clergy and schoolmasters of Scotland were then appealing to the legislature for an increase of their incomes; and in this production, Hume, in a sort of parody on the representation of these reverend and learned bodies, shows that bell-ringers have the same, or even greater claims on the liberality of the public. It is perhaps a little too like the original, of which it professes to be a parody; and though it has some wit, is deficient in the bitter ridicule, which Swift would have thrown into such an effort. The following are some passages:—

"That as your petitioners serve in the quality of grave-diggers, the great use and necessity of their order, in every well regulated commonwealth, has never yet been called in question by any reasoner; an advantage they possess above their brethren the reverend clergy.

"That their usefulness is as extensive as it is great, for even those who neglect religion or despise learning, must yet, some time or other, stand in need of the good offices of this grave and venerable order.

"That it seems impossible the landed gentry can oppose the interest of your petitioners; since, by securing so perfectly as they have hitherto done, the persons of the fathers and elder brothers of the foresaid gentry, your petitioners, next after the physicians, are the persons in the world, to whom the present proprietors of land are the most beholden.

"That, as your petitioners are but half ecclesiastics, it may be expected they will not be altogether unreasonable nor exorbitant in their demands.

"That the present poverty of your petitioners in this kingdom is a scandal to all religion; it being easy to prove, that a modern bellman is not more richly endowed than a primitive apostle, and consequently possesseth not the twentieth part of the revenues belonging to a presbyterian clergyman.

"That whatever freedom the profane scoffers, and free thinkers of the age, may use with our reverend brethren the clergy, the boldest of them tremble when they think of us; and that a simple reflection on us has reformed more lives than all the sermons in the world.

"That the instrumental music allotted to your petitioners, being the only music of that kind left in our truly reformed churches, is a necessary prelude to the vocal music of the schoolmaster and minister, and is by many esteemed equally significant and melodious.

"That your petitioners trust the honourable house will not despise them on account of the present meanness of their condition; for, having heard a learned man say that the cardinals, who are now princes, were once nothing but the parish curates of Rome, your petitioners, observing the same laudable measures to be now prosecuted, despair not of being, one day, on a level with the nobility and gentry of these realms."

The petition of which this is a specimen, is accompanied by a letter, signed "Zerubabel Macgilchrist, Bellman of Buckhaven;" who kindly says to the members of parliament he addresses, that the brother to whom is allotted "the comfortable task of doing you the last service in our power, shall do it so carefully, that you never shall find reason to complain of him."[319:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[272:1] "By the author of The Essays Moral and Political," 8vo. Printed for Andrew Millar. Hume's complaints about the obscurity of all his books anterior to the "Political Discourses" and the History, seem to be confirmed by the absence of this Edition in places where such books are expected to be found. It is not in The Advocates' or The Signet libraries in Edinburgh, nor is it to be found in the catalogues of the British Museum or Bodleyan. Did I not possess the book, I might have found it difficult to obtain an authenticated copy of the title-page. It is not mentioned in Watt's Bibliotheca; but it will be found correctly set forth in a German bibliographical work, infinitely superior to any we possess in this country, but unfortunately not completed. Adelung's Supplement to Jöchers Allgemeines Gelehrten Lexicon. It appears in the Gentleman's Magazine, list of books for April.

[273:1] "A Free Inquiry into the miraculous powers, which are supposed to have subsisted in the Christian Church, from the earliest ages through several successive centuries," by Conyers Middleton, D.D. London, 1748-1749, 4to.

It was encountered by a perfect hurricane of controversial tracts, which fill all the book lists of the time.

[278:1] Inquiry concerning Human Understanding, sect. viii.

[283:1] This matter seems on another occasion to have passed under his own view. In the "Dialogues concerning Natural Religion" he makes Philo say, "Strong and almost incontestable proofs may be traced over the whole earth, that every part of this globe has continued for many ages entirely covered with water. And though order were supposed inseparable from matter, and inherent in it, yet may matter be susceptible of many and great revolutions through the endless periods of eternal duration." That even Hume's argument makes allowance for miracles having some time or other existed, and that it can only be urged against this or that individual statement of an unnatural occurrence, is the weapon which Campbell wields with chief effect in his admirable dissertation.

[284:1] "Let us try how his manner of argument on this point can be applied to a particular instance. For this purpose I make the following supposition. I have lived for some years near a ferry. It consists with my knowledge that the passage boat has a thousand times crossed the river, and as many times returned safe. An unknown man, whom I have just now met, tells me in a serious manner that it is lost; and affirms, that he himself, standing on the bank, was a spectator of the scene; that he saw the passengers carried down the stream and the boat overwhelmed. No person, who is influenced in his judgment of things, not by philosophical subtleties, but by common sense, a much surer guide, will hesitate to declare, that in such a testimony I have probable evidence of the fact asserted."—Dissertation on Miracles, 46-47.

[285:1] Perhaps the earliest in date of these is, "An Essay on Mr. Hume's Essay on Miracles," by William Adams, M.A. chaplain to the Bishop of Llandaff, 1751.

[285:2] Warburton says to Hurd, on 28th September, 1749,—"I am strongly tempted to have a stroke at Hume in passing. He is the author of a little book called 'Philosophical Essays;' in one part of which he argues against the being of a God, and in another (very needlessly you will say,) against the possibility of miracles. He has crowned the liberty of the press: and yet he has a considerable post under the government. I have a great mind to do justice on his arguments against miracles, which I think might be done in a few words. But does he deserve notice? Is he known among you? Pray answer these questions. For if his own weight keeps him down, I should be sorry to contribute to his advancement to any place but the pillory." Letters from a late Rev. prelate to one of his friends, 1808, p. 11.

[286:1] Sect. iii.

[287:1] Preliminary Dissertation, Note T.

[287:2] "Quandoque remeniscitur aliquis incipiens ab aliqua re, cujus memoratur, a quâ procedit ad alium triplici ratione. Quandoque quidem ratione similitudinis, sicut quando aliquis memoratur de Socrate, et per hoc, occurrit ei Plato, qui est similis ei in sapientia; quandoque vero ratione contrarietatis, sicut si aliquis memoretur Hectoris, et per hoc occurrit ei Achilles. Quandoque vero ratione propinquitatis cujuscunque, sicut cum aliquis memor est patris, et per hoc occurrit ei filius. Et eadem ratio est de quacunque alia propinquitate, vel societatis, vel loci, vel temporis, et propter hoc fit reminiscentia quia motus horum se invicem consequuntur."—Aquinatis Comment. in Aristot. de Memoria et Remeniscentia; edit. Paris, 1660, p. 64. The scope of Aquinas' remarks have more reference to mnemonics or artificial memory than to association. They explain how a man, remembering what he did yesterday, may pass to the remembrance of what he did the day before, &c.

[288:1] See Dr. Brown's commentary on the history of theories of association, in his thirty-fourth Lecture. Sir William Hamilton, the highest living authority on these subjects, while he thinks that Aristotle has not got justice for the extent to which he has anticipated Hume and others in relation to this matter, does not think there is the slightest ground for the charge of plagiarism, and observes to me that Coleridge's own remarks on association are merely an adaptation from the German of Maas.

[289:1] 8vo, printed for A. Millar. It is in the Gentleman's Magazine list for November.

[289:2] See p. 136.

[290:1] Babylonii maxime in vinum, et quæ ebrietatem sequuntur, effusi sunt. Quint. Cur. lib. v. cap. 1.

[290:2] Plut. Symp. lib. i. quæst. 4.

[291:1] From the circumstances to be immediately stated regarding this event, it seems to have taken place while Hume was on his way back from Turin. In a search in The Scots Magazine, and other quarters where one might expect to find mention of the decease of a person in the rank of the lady of Ninewells, I have not been able to ascertain the precise date.

[293:1] Quarterly Review, xvi. 279.

[294:1] There is a traditional anecdote, to the effect that Mrs. Hume, expressing her opinion of her son David and his accomplishments, said, "Our Davie's a fine good-natured crater, but uncommon wake-minded." I have heard this adduced as a proof of the philosopher's gentle, passive nature, and the effect it had in stamping an impression of his character on one not capable of appreciating his genius. But the anecdote is not characteristic of either party, and arises out of the common mistake that Hume was all his life tame, phlegmatic, and unimpassioned. However much he had tutored himself to stoicism, and had succeeded in conquering the outward demonstrations of strong feelings, it will be seen in various documents quoted in these volumes, and in the incidents narrated, that he was a man of strong impulses, full of blood and nerve, and that, as in a high-mettled horse, his energies were regulated, not extinguished. No one who had the training of his youth could have escaped observing in him the workings of strong aspirations, and of a hardy resolute temper.

But Mrs. Hume was evidently an accomplished woman, worthy of the sympathy and respect of her distinguished son, and could not have failed to see and to appreciate from its earliest dawnings the originality and power of his intellect. Her portrait, which I have seen, represents a thin but pleasing countenance, expressive of great intellectual acuteness. Some verses, which a lady, who is her direct descendant, authenticates as being in her handwriting, are in the curious collection of autographs and illustrated portraits, in the possession of Mr. W. F. Watson, Prince's Street, Edinburgh. It has been supposed that they are the composition of David Hume himself; but the use of the Scottish language almost amounts to evidence against that supposition: he would as readily have walked the streets of Edinburgh in a kilt. The lines are called "Song.—Air, Mary's Dream," and begin—

What now avails the flowery dream,

That animates my youthful mind,

My Mary's vows are all a whim,

Her plighted troth as light as wind.

O Mary, dearer than the day

That cheers the nighted wanderer's ee,

Through ance-loved scenes I lonely stray,

But lovely Mary's far frae me.

What now avails the beachen grove,

Or willow in its cloak o' gray,

Those scenes 'twas sacred ance to love,

Now fills my heart in grief and wae.

O Mary, &c.

Perhaps this may be as good an opportunity as any other for the insertion of some lines, carefully preserved in the MSS. R.S.E., which are at least so far to the present purpose, that they give a pleasing idea of the social circle at Ninewells. They are addressed to a lady who had lived to see her grandchildren; which does not appear to have been the case with the mother of the historian, as her eldest son was not married till 1751. A dowager of an elder generation may have lived for some time at Ninewells during David Hume's youth, though he does not mention her: or there may have been some collateral member of the family, to whom the lines may have been addressed; for, in a series of extracts which I have obtained from the Kirk Session Records of Chirnside, I find that a David Home in Ninewells, who cannot have been a lineal ancestor of the philosopher, had a numerous family baptized between 1691 and 1701. The lines are entitled "Miss A. B. to Mrs. H. by her Black Boy;" and however the genealogical questions, we have just been considering, may stand, their intrinsic merit, as embodying a beautiful and humane sentiment, entitle them to notice.—Query, is it to this alone, or to some extrinsic interest attached to Miss A. B. that we are to attribute the careful preservation of the lines by Hume?

Condemn'd in infancy a slave to roam,

Far far from India's shore, my native home,

To serve a Caledonian maid I come—

In me no father does his darling mourn—

No mother weeps me from her bosom torn—

Both grew to dust, they say to earth below;

But who those were, alas, I ne'er shall know.

Lady, to thee her love my mistress sends,

And bids thy grandsons be Ferdnando's friends.

Bids thee suppose, on Afric's distant coast,

One of those lily-coloured favourites lost;

Doom'd in the train of some proud dame to wait,

A slave, as she should will, for use or state.

If to the boy you'd wish her to be kind,

Such grace from you let Ferdinando find.

[296:1] Hom. Il. λ. 515. A medical man is equal in value to many other men. Or, as Pope has it,

A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal,

Is more than armies to the public weal.

[297:1]

——ubi non et multa supersunt,

Et dominum fallunt, et prosunt furibus.

Hor. epist. i. 6, 45.

[298:1] See this passage nearly verbatim in the "Essay on the Populousness of Ancient Nations," (Works, edit. 1826, p. 483.) Much light has of course been subsequently thrown on this matter by the investigations in Pompeii, and other places.

[298:2] London was kept in much excitement, during the year 1750, by repeated shocks of earthquake. Horace Walpole says, on 11th March, "In the night between Wednesday and Thursday last, (exactly a month since the first shock,) the earth had a shivering fit between one and two; but so slight that, if no more had followed, I don't believe it would have been noticed. I had been awake, and had scarce dosed again. On a sudden I felt my bolster lift up my head: I thought somebody was getting from under my bed, but soon found it was a strong earthquake, that lasted near half a minute, with a violent vibration and great roaring. I rang my bell; my servant came in, frightened out of his senses. In an instant we heard all the windows in the neighbourhood flung up. I got up, and found people running into the streets; but saw no mischief done. There has been some: two old houses flung down, several chimneys, and much china ware."—Letters to Sir H. Man, ii. 349.

"Dick Leveson and Mr. Rigby, who had supped and staid late at Bedford House, the other night, knocked at several doors, and in a watchman's voice cried, 'Past four o'clock, and a dreadful earthquake.'"—Ib. 354.

[299:1] "There has been a shower of sermons and exhortations. Secker, the jesuitical Bishop of Oxford, begun the mode. He heard the women were all going out of town to avoid the next shock: and so, for fear of losing his Easter offerings, he set himself to advise them to wait God's good pleasure, in fear and trembling. But, what is more astonishing, Sherlock, [Bishop of London,] who has much better sense, and much less of the popish confessor, has been running a race with him for the old ladies, and has written a Pastoral Letter, of which ten thousand were sold in two days, and fifty thousand have been subscribed for since the two first editions."—Ib. 353.

[300:1] A second edition of the "Essays concerning Human Understanding," was published by Millar in 1751, with the author's name. One of these essays, which, in the first edition, had the title, "Of the Practical Consequences of Natural Religion," but, in the second, received a much less appropriate title, and one likely to make its tenor, as applicable to the reasonings of philosophers anterior to Christianity, be misunderstood. It was called, "Of a Particular Providence, and Future State."

[300:2] Colonel Abercromby. See above, p. 222.

[300:3] Colonel Edmonstoune.

[301:1] Probably "The Bellman's Petition," mentioned p. 317.

[301:2] From the original at Kilravock.

[304:1] Memorials of Oswald, p. 65.

[304:2] Two vols. 8vo, Hamilton and Balfour. The productions of the Scottish press, in the middle period of last century, deserve to be looked back upon with respect; and the excellence of its matter at that time, will go far to balance its present fertility. It was not only as a vehicle of native genius, that it was respectable. Besides the eminent editions of the classics by the Ruddimans and the Foulises, it supplied handsome editions of celebrated foreign works; a sure indication that it was surrounded by a large class of well educated readers.

[306:1] The following placard is, in the circumstances, a master-stroke in its simplicity and ingenuity.

"AUX ELECTEURS TRÈS DIGNES DE WESTMINSTER.

"Messieurs,—Vos suffrages et interêts sont desirés pour Le Très Hon. mi Lord TRENTHAM, un VÉRITABLE Anglois.

"N. B.—L'on prie ses Amis de ses rendre a l'hôtel François dans le Marché au Foin."

The following acrostic is a specimen of the poetic lucubrations of the Vandeput party:—

"T ruant to thy promis'd trust;

R ebel daring where thou durst,

E ager to promote French strollers,

N one but poltroons are thy pollers.

T ribes of nose-led clerks and placemen,

H ackney voters, (bribes disgrace men,)

A ll forswear, through thick and thin,

M eanness theirs, but thine the sin."

This election gave birth to some incidents apparently trifling, which yet make a material figure in British history, from their connexion with the vindication of the privileges of the House of Commons. The Honourable Alexander Murray, brother of Lord Elibank, a gentleman who will probably be again called up in a future part of these pages, was charged along with Mr. Crowle, an attorney, and another person, with the use of "threatening and affronting expressions," by the high bailiff. They were brought before the bar of the House, and after some discussion and inquiry, Crowle confessed, was submissive, received the usual reprimand on his knees, and wiped them when he rose, saying, it was "the dirtiest house he had ever been in." Murray denied the charge, and resisted the House, "smiled," as Walpole says, "when he was taxed with having called Lord Trentham and the high bailiff, rascals," and, finally, refused to kneel, saying, "Sir, I beg to be excused, I never kneel but to God." Then followed imprisonment, and embarrassing questions about the prisoner's health, which, sinking under his self-inflicted imprisonment, reproached those who could not turn back on the course they had taken; the whole being rendered more complex by the difficulty of finding a guiding rule in the precedents of the House, until parliament was adjourned; and he left Newgate in a triumphant procession, proclaiming the device of "Murray and Liberty."

[307:1] Viz. in a volume of broadsides and other documents, in the possession of James Maidment, Esq. of which the pieces in the preceding note are specimens. To show how such inquiries are beset by tantalizing coincidences, there are two James Frasers mentioned on the Trentham side, one of them having after his name on a printed list of voters, the significant MS. notandum, "Don't pay."

[307:2] P. 223.

[308:1] A gentleman of the same name connected with the Lovat family, was for some time an apothecary in London, where he lived "the life of a genuine London bachelor;" he was a keen Jacobite, and died about 1760. Note communicated by Captain Fraser, Knockie, who also mentions another James Fraser, who was commissioner of the navy during the revolutionary war, and settled in London in 1781; but this appears to have been a person of a later generation than Hume's friend.

[310:1] Gunpowder.

[310:2] In allusion, probably, to Sir John Hynd Cotton.

[310:3] In allusion to Sir George Vandeput.

[310:4] In allusion, probably, to Fraser's own family.

[311:1] Earl Gower, and his son Lord Trentham.

[316:1] Probably "Agis," which appears to have been written before "Douglas."

[316:2] See above, p. 298.

[319:1] Printed sheet in the possession of James Maidment, Esq. "The Bellman's Petition," has been reprinted in a curious collection of scraps, called "A Scots Haggis," the editor of which does not however appear to have known that Hume was the author of this piece.