"Such is the force of natural temper, that these disappointments made little or no impreffion on me. I went down in 1749, and lived two years with my brother at his country-houfe, for my mother was now dead. I there compofed the fecond part of my Effays, which I called Political Difcourfes, and alfo my Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, which is another part of my treatife that I caft anew. Meanwhile, my bookfeller, A. Millar, informed me, that my former publications (all but the unfortunate Treatife) were beginning to be the fubject of converfation; that the fale of them was gradually increafing, and that new editions were demanded. Anfwers by Reverends, and Right Reverends, came out two or three in a year; and I found, by Dr. Warburton's railing, that the books were beginning to be esteemed in good company. However, I had fixed a refolution, which I inflexibly maintained, never to reply to any body; and not being very irafcible in my temper, I have easily kept myfelf clear of all literary fquabbles. Thefe fymptoms of a rifing reputation gave me encou ragement, as I was ever more difpofed to fee the favourable than unfavourable fide of things; a turn of mind which it is more happy to poffefs, than to be born to an estate of ten thousand a year †.

"In 1751, I removed from the country to the town, the true scene for a man of letters. In 1752, were published at Edinburgh, where I then lived, my Political Difcourfes, the only work of mine that was fuccefsful on the first publication. It was well received abroad and at home. In the fame year was published at London, my Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals; which, in my own opinion (who ought not to judge on that fubject), is of all my writings, historical, philofophical, or literary, incomparably the beft. It came unnoticed and unobferved into the world.

"In 1752, the Faculty of Advocates chofe me their Librarian, an office from which I received little or no emolument, but which gave me the command of a large library . I then formed the plan of writing the Hiftory of England; but being frightened with the notion of continuing a narrative through a period of 1700 years, I commenced with the acceffion of the Houfe of Stuart, an epoch when, I thought, the mifreprefentations of faction began chiefly to take place. I was, I own, fanguine in my expectations of the fuccefs of this work. I thought that I was the only hiftorian, that had at once neglected prefent power, intereft, and authority, and the cry of popular preju

Perhaps this was owing to Mr. Hume's turn of study as well as temper of mind. He ran a race in which he had few competitors. Hiftory and Philofophy are above the pursuits of literary-fquabbles. Had he been a poet, the genus irritabile vatum, the verfifyers, would have tried his philofophy of temper to the utmoft. Fortunately for him, he was too wife to be a wit, and thus escaped. Rev.

+ Perhaps this difpofition of mind was not a little confirmed by the ridiculous figure he must be confcious he made in the before-mentioned adventure with Jacob; before he grew "callous against the impreffions of public folly." Rev.

In this inftance Mr. Hume fhews himself to be a more impartial judge of his own writings than authors themfelves ufually are. Rev.

About this time Mr. Hume was chofen fecretary to a learned and ingenious fociety at Edinburgh, which published two volumes of Literary and Philofophical Effays. Rev.

VOL. V.

D d

dices;

dices; and as the fubject was fuited to every capacity, I expected pro portional applaufe. But miferable was my disappointment: I was affailed by one cry of reproach, difapprobation, and even detestation; English, Scotch, and Irish, Whig and Tory, churchman and fectary, free-thinker and religionist, patriot and courtier, united in their rage against the man, who had prefumed to shed a generous tear for the fate of Charles I. and the Earl of Strafford; and after the first ebullitions of their fury were over, what was ftill more mortifying, the book feemed to fink into oblivion. Mr. Millar told me, that in a twelvemonth he fold only forty-five copies of it. I fcarcely, indeed, heard of one man in the three kingdoms, confiderable for rank or letters, that could endure the book. I muft only except the primate of England, Dr. Herring, and the primate of Ireland, Dr. Stone, which feem two odd exceptions. Thefe dignified prelates separately sent me mes fages not to be difcouraged.

"I was, however, I confefs, difcouraged; and had not the war been at that time breaking out between France and England, I had certainly retired to fome provincial town of the former kingdom, have 'changed my name, and never more have returned to my native country. But as this fcheme was not now practicable, and the fubfequent volume was confiderably advanced, I refolved to pick up courage and to perfevere.

In this interval, I published at London my Natural History of Religion, along with fome other small pieces: its public entry was rather obfcure, except only that Dr. Hurd wrote a pamphlet against it, with all the illiberal petulance, arrogance, and fcurrility, which diftinguish the Warburtonian School*. This pamphlet gave me fome confolation for the otherwife indifferent reception of my performance. "In 1756, two years after the fall of the first volume, was published the fecond volume of my Hiftory, containing the period from the death of Charles I. till the Revolution. This performance happened to give lefs difpleafure to the Whigs, and was better received. It not only rofe itfelf, but helped to buoy up its unfortunate brother.

"But though I had been taught by experience, that the Whig party were in poffeffion of bettowing all places, both in the ftate and in literature, I was fo little inclined to yield to their fenfelefs clamour, that in above a hundred alterations, which farther ftudy, reading, or reflection, engaged me to make in the reigns of the two firft Stuarts, I have made all of them invariably to the Tory fide. It is ridiculous to confider the English conftitution before that period as a regular plan liberty.

of

"In 1759, I publifhed my Hiftory of the Houfe of Tudor. The clamour againit this performance was almoft equal to that against the History of the two first Stuarts. The reign of Elizabeth was larly obnoxious. But I was now callous against the impreffions of public folly, and continued very peaceably and contentedly

particu

in my re

*It is a little remarkable that the gentleman, to whofe care this manu fcript was entrusted, thould have ever carried his hand fo even between religion and infidelity, as to have been made the inftrument of ushering into the world, with equal approbation, the doctrines of divine grace, and the dogmas of human nature. Rev.

24

treat

H

treat at Edinburgh, to finish, in two volumes, the more early part of the English History, which I gave to the public in 1761, with tolerable, and but tolerable fuccefs.

"But, notwithstanding this variety of winds and feafons, to which my writings had been expofed, they had ftill been making fuch advances, that the copy-money given me by the bookfellers, much exceeded any thing formerly known in England; I was become not only independent, but opulent. I retired to my native country of Scotland, determined never more to fet my foot out of it; and retaining the fatisfaction of never having preferred a request to one great man, or even making advances of friendship to any of them. As I was now turned of fifty, I thought of paffing all the rest of my life in this philofophical manner, when I received, in 1763, an invitation from the Earl of Hertford, with whom I was not in the leaft acquainted, to attend him on his embaffy to Paris, with a near profpect of being appointed fecretary to the embaffy; and, in the meanwhile, of performing the functions of that office. This offer, however inviting, I at firit declined, both because I was reluctant to begin connexions with the great, and because I was afraid that the civilities and gay company of Paris, would prove difagreeable to a perfon of my age and humour: but on his lordThip's repeating the invitation, I accepted of it. I have every reason, both of pleasure and interest, to think myself happy in my connexions with that nobleman, as well as afterwards with his brother, General Conway.

Those who have not seen the strange effects of modes, will never imagine the reception I met with at Paris, from men and women of all ranks and stations. The more I refiled from their exceffive civilities, the more I was loaded with them. There is, however, a real fatisfaction in living at Paris, from the great number of fenfible, knowing, and polite company with which that city abounds above all places in the universe. I thought once of fettling there for life.

"I was appointed fecretary to the embaffy; and, in fummer 1765, Lord Hertford left me, being appointed Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. I was chargé d'affaires till the arrival of the Duke of Richmond, towards the end of the year. In the beginning of 1766, I left Paris, and next fummer went to Edinburgh, with the fame view as formerly, of burying myfelf in a philofophical retreat. I returned to that place, not richer, but with much more money, and a much larger income, by means of Lord Hertford's friendship, than I left it; and I was defirous of trying what fuperfluity could produce, as I had formerly made án experiment of a competency. But, in 1767, I received from Mr. Conway an invitation to be Under-fecretary; and this invitation, both the character of the perfon, and my connexions with Lord Hertford, prevented me from declining. I returned to Edinburgh in 1769,

very

* How few writers can say this!—The fact reflects great honour on our author's fpirit of independency. Not but that his general turn of ftudy was toward fuch subjects as great men so little understand that it could hardly recommend him to many patrons. Rev.

+ It was during our author's connection with adminiftration, that he interefted himfelf in favour of that ftrange and inconfiftent mortal, Rouffeau;

Dd 2

whofe

very opulent (for I poffeffed a revenue of 1000 l. a year), healthy, and though fomewhat ftricken in years, with the profpect of enjoying long my cafe, and of feeing the increase of my reputation.

"In fpring 1775, I was struck with a diforder in my bowels, which at first gave me no alarm, but has fince, as I apprehend it, become mortal and incurable. I now reckon upon a speedy diffolution. I have fuffered very little pain from my diforder; and what is more strange, have, notwithstanding the great decline of my perfon, never suffered a moment's abatement of my fpirits; infomuch, that were I to name the period of my life, which I fhould most choose to pass over again, I might be tempted to point to this later period. I poffefs the fame ardour as ever in study, and the fame gaiety in company. I confider, befides, that a man of fixty-five, by dying, cuts off only a few years of infirmities; and though I fee many fymptoms of my literary reputation's breaking out at last with additional luftre, I knew that I could have but few years to enjoy it. It is difficult to be more detached from life than I am at prefent.

"To conclude hiftorically with my own character. I am, or rather was (for that is the style I must now use in speaking of myself, which emboldens me the more to fpeak my fentiments); I was, I fay, a man of mild difpofitions, of command of temper, of an open, focial, and cheerful humour, capable of attachment, but little fufceptible of enmity, and of great moderation in all my paffions. Even my love of literary fame, my ruling paffion, never foured my temper, notwithftanding my frequent difappointments. My company was not unacceptable to the young and carelefs, as well as to the ftudious and literary; and as I took a particular pleasure in the company of modest women, I had no reafon to be displeased with the reception I met with from them. In a word, though most men any wife eminent, have found reafon to complain of calumny, I never was touched, or even attacked by her baleful tooth: and though I wantonly expofed myself to the rage of both civil and religious factions, they feemed to be dif armed in my behalf of their wonted fury. My friends never had occafion to vindicate any one circumftance of my character and conduct: not but that the zealots, we may well fuppofe, would have been glad to invent and propagate any story to my disadvantage, but they could never find any which they thought would wear the face of probability. I cannot fay there is no vanity in making this funeral oration of myfelf, but I hope it is not a misplaced one; and this is a matter of fact which is eafily cleared and afcertained.

April 18, 1776."

It is remarkable that, in this hiftory of our author's literary career, he is totally filent on the fubject of that formidable attack, on his philofophical principles, by Dr. Beattie, in the latter's Effay on the Immutability of Truth. Formidable we whofe journey to England made fo much noife in the world, and whofe ingratitude to his benefactor forms one among the many blemishes in that fingular character. Mr. Hume, however, appears, by not deigning to mention him, to have borne no refentment against him for his extraordinary behaviour. Rev.

call

call it, on account merely of its popularity, and the very favourable reception it met with in the world; a reception very different from that of our author's Effay on Human Nature. It were difficult to fpeak of this work with more contempt than, we are well affured, Mr. Hume entertained of it. "Truth!" fays he, " there is no truth in it; it is a horrible large lie in Octavo." What would he have faid, had he lived to fee the late fplendid edition of it in Quarto ?-Be the merit, however, of Dr. Beattie's work what it may, we cannot help thinking that Candour required of him to have attacked Mr. Hume's later writings, and not a work, which the author himfelf had abandoned, and in fome measure reprobated.

To Mr. Hume's own narrative of his life, is added a letter from Dr. Adam Smith to Mr. Strahan, giving an account of the manner of his death; by which he appears to have been as much a practical as he was a theoretical philofopher. Religiorifts, as Mr. Hume affected to call Chriftians, make a mighty ftir about the laft moments of life, as if it were of more confequence how a man dies than how he lives: and, though they may not agree that our philofopher died the death of the righteous, it is to be wished that the latter end of all believers were like his.-We do not indeed much approve of an apparent levity here related, of his difcourfing on fo important a fubject as his death. This is, his talking about Charon, and an imaginary converfation that might happen on their rencounter on the banks of the Styx. Granting for a moment that the Chriftian mythology be imaginary, furely that of the Heathen is equally fabulous! The allufion to it, therefore, on fo ferious an occafion feems unbecoming and frivolous. There have been men so inveterately addicted to pleafantry, as even to die jefting; but though this may be thought characteristical in a witty man, it is by no means becoming a wife man and we should be glad to fubfcribe to Dr. Smith's eulogium on his friend, when he declares that" upon the whole he confiders him both in his life and death, as approaching as nearly to the idea of a perfectly wife and virtuous man, as the nature of human frailty will permit."

W.

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