* After returning to Scotland, Hume eventually settled in Edinburgh with his sister. Although his two ENQUIRYs had not done well for him, his essays and other writings were finally bringing him public acclaim. He then went on to a much more ambitious project -- a history of England that not only would prove enduring, but also lucrative.
* Hume's ENQUIRY INTO HUMAN UNDERSTANDING was a landmark, not only in Hume's career, but in the history of human thought. It generally follows the philosophy established in the TREATISE, but does it with far more conciseness and eloquence.
The TREATISE still has its admirers in the philosophical community, who are inclined to see the first ENQUIRY as merely a watered-down derivative, pandering to a wider audience. The problem is that the TREATISE is a murky, in places completely unreadable book, and its complications tend more towards the burdensome than useful. For a significant example, the TREATISE constructs a much more elaborate theory of perception than does the first ENQUIRY, but it's difficult to see that it's anything more than awkward excess baggage. Hume's notions are fundamentally simple, sometimes startlingly so, and burying them in complications was counterproductive. Hume had ideas he wanted to tell the world, or at least the educated world, and clarity was always going to trump complexity.
The first ENQUIRY also went into new ground, including a matched set of essays critical of religion that he had reluctantly dropped from the TREATISE: "Of Miracles" and "Of A Particular Providence & A Future State". Given their conciseness, it seems likely these two essays were rewritten from their original text.
"Of Miracles" became the best-known, or most notorious, of all Hume's writings, drawing fire from critics from the outset. Hume's critics still indignantly reject his "claim" that he had proven miracles were impossible, saying he couldn't prove any such thing. Actually, given his concepts of causality, Hume would have been the last person to make such a claim.
Hume never said that miracles provably can't happen; he simply pointed out that miracles were things that supposedly happened that by all common experience don't happen, for example the dead returning to life. After all, if we thought the dead rising from the grave was unremarkable, then why would anyone call it a miracle? If anyone said their dog had died and come back to life, only a fool would believe it; anyone with sense would judge such a statement empty-headed comedy, or evidence of lunacy.
By definition, then, a miracle implies a contradiction, that something that is commonly seen as impossible actually happened. Given that contradiction, then how can we sensibly believe in a miracle? Hume actually answered that we could, we could believe it on faith; after all, we can believe anything on faith. Even a skeptic would rightly believe, given a major qualification: that the evidence offered for the miracle outweighs all our experience that says such things don't happen.
The issue is not whether some inexplicable event happened, maybe it did; it is that the advocates insist a miracle really did happen, but dodge their severe burden of proof, attempting to shift it onto the skeptics. The advocates, having no credible argument, can do no more than assert the miracle happened, hoping to provoke skeptics into taking on the futile task of convincing the advocates of their error.
Given the long and consistent history of religions playing the dodgy miracle card, not to mention the fact that advocates of one religion dismiss miracles reported by rival religions, then, as Hume concluded, a skeptic has no cause to give miracles any consideration. It's not a question of refusing to discuss the matter; there's no discussion there in the first place, it's just an empty assertion that goes nowhere. Exactly the same thing can be said of modern secular claims of the extraordinary -- far-reaching conspiracies or alien visitors or Bigfoot -- delivered not as speculations, but with the same insistent assertion and attempt to shift the burden of proof on a matter not credible enough to be interesting.
It is ironic that "Of Miracles" remains the focus of attacks on Hume, since it is a brief work, only a few pages out of his philosophical writings. All such attacks carry on the long tradition of willful misrepresentation of Hume, followed by his execution in effigy. No matter how many times the deed is done, however, his work continues into the future as if nothing had happened to it, since nothing actually did. It's not like the mass of humanity either knows or cares about Hume in the first place, he never thought they would or should, so attacks on him are irrelevant. The repeated mock demolition of Hume amounts to no more than an ongoing entertainment for those who think themselves his superior. Being long dead, it's no inconvenience to Hume; he can humor being executed as many times over as anyone likes.
"Of A Particular Providence & A Future State" then examined religion from another angle, zeroing in on alleged evidence of the Deity in creation ("particular providence"); and the evidence for another world after death ("future state").
The argument for a particular providence was the organized complexity of the Universe, which suggested an intelligence had designed it. Hume replied that the only basis for inferring such "Intelligent Design", in the modern phrase, was by a strained analogy with human constructions. We know nothing significant about the creation of Universes; we cannot compare the features of a Universe that was designed from those of one that wasn't. We can only compare the Universe with puny human constructions; but even if human constructions deliberately or inadvertently imitate nature, that gives us no persuasive reason to believe nature imitates humans. We have no material evidence to support the belief that intelligence plays a role in the operation of the Universe beyond human activities.
Hume did concede the possibility that the Universe had been created by an intelligence, but then pointed out the obvious implication: that we could know nothing specific about that intelligence other than that it had created the Universe; that we could only know about its creations from what we observe of the Universe, with the assumption of its intelligent creation telling us nothing more about it than what we could see in any case; and beyond what we observe of the Universe, we could only have speculations not supported by any material evidence.
As far as the next world went, since all we could know about the Deity is the creations we have observed, we have no basis for believing in any constructions different from, superior to in whatever sense, the reality we observe. We could, again, believe in faith on the existence of a next world, but no material evidence -- much less abstract logic, which cannot prove anything about what exists or does not in the first place -- could show that it existed. Hume would elaborate on these ideas in his later DIALOGUES CONCERNING NATURAL RELIGION, which was published posthumously. It is somewhat puzzling as to why Hume deferred the publication of that work until after his death; it covered roughly the same ground as "Of a Particular Providence", if more broadly, which he had gone ahead and published. It appears that he just wanted to record his casual thoughts on matters he didn't feel were worth arguing over.
"Of A Particular Providence & A Future State" didn't draw the same level of fire as "On Miracles" -- indeed, nothing else he wrote did, Hume commenting in his autobiography that counterattacks "by Reverends, and Right Reverends, came out two or three in a year." One suspects that the critics remain touchy about miracles because they feel so exposed to derision on that score.
* While the ENQUIRY INTO HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, except for the two added essays, clearly reflects the TREATISE, the ENQUIRY INTO THE PRINCIPLES OF MORALS is more of a departure. The TREATISE took a strongly psychological view of morals; the second ENQUIRY de-emphasized the psychological approach, though it did not abandon it, instead taking a more anthropological view. Rejecting both theistic and rational approaches to morality, Hume focused on the sentiments underlying morality, listing the personal qualities that people regarded as good or bad, and from there constructed a theory of political society, of how laws and governance emerge to allow large numbers of people who do not know each other personally still cooperate.
Hume's evaluation of moral systems in both the TREATISE and second ENQUIRY appears commonsense on consideration, and yet in hindsight he really was radical. Hume denied not only a theistic basis for morality -- in his writings on moral systems, Hume less rejected the argument for the religious option than simply disregarded it -- but, more significantly, at least from the point of view of philosophy, denied the argument for a rational basis of morality, as well as the notion, popular in modern times, of the moral primacy of selfishness.
Hume did not speak of morality as it should be, he simply described it as it was, rooted in custom and psychology -- and ultimately in biology, his thinking being ancestral to modern notions of the evolution of moral systems. Hume thought the second ENQUIRY "incomparably the best" of his writings, even though it was not very popular, no doubt due to its challenges to conventional wisdom.
BACK_TO_TOP* Hume spent two years at Ninewells. When his brother John married in 1751, David and his sister Katherine decided that they were too much of a crowd there in the altered family circumstances; it also appears David didn't get along well with his new sister-in-law, saying unkindly things about her in his letters.
After casting about for a time, David moved that summer into a flat in Edinburgh, with Katherine soon moving in with him -- Hume writing in a letter that she should "join 30 pounds a year to my stock, & brings an equal love of order and frugality, we doubt not to make our revenues answer [to our needs]." The household, as Hume related, had "two inferior members, a maid and a cat." The maid's name was Peggy Irvine; although Hume's writings reflect, as was the common mindset of the time, a condescending notion of the inherent intellectual inferiority of women, he nonetheless buckled under to Irvine, described as a "domestic tyrant" who maintained the household with strict rules. Indeed, he was very loyal to her.
David Hume would remain a citizen of Edinburgh, with interruptions, until the end of his life, with his sister Katherine his companion there. She remains a mysterious figure, with little known about her interests or activities, hidden in the historical shadow of her brother.
His shadow was finally beginning to grow at the time. POLITICAL DISCOURSES, as noted, had done well internationally, with some of his earlier works selling better in consequence as well. The noted French philosophe Montesquieu was an early admirer, making note of Hume's ESSAYS MORAL & POLITICAL, the two men establishing a mutually admiring correspondence that lasted until Montesquieu's death in 1755. Hume was of course both praised and criticized, Hume having the satisfaction in the criticisms of at least knowing he wasn't being ignored any longer. Some, though of course not all, of the critics thought Hume very sharp, even if they differed with his conclusions.
Edinburgh in the 1750s was an unattractive city, known as "Reekie Town" because of its haze of coal smoke -- and particularly because of its appalling sanitation, bad even by the standards of the era, lacking any sewage system worthy of the name, travelers commenting on the nastiness of the place. However, Edinburgh did have a lively intellectual community, of which Hume was a prominent and highly appreciated member. He became the joint secretary of the Philosophical Society of Edinburgh in 1751, which was generally focused on the sciences; a member of the Select Society, essentially a club for upper-class intellectuals; and a member of the Poker Club, which was focused on politics, the name suggesting not games of cards, but a willingness to stir up the fire. He also became a contributing, though rarely if ever attending, member of the Literary Society of Glasgow -- thanks to pioneering economist Adam Smith, a member of that body, who had taken note of Hume's POLITICAL DISCOURSES and other, related essays. Smith and Hume would become very close friends.
Surprisingly, although Hume had little taste for religion, he also maintained cordial relationships with a circle of Moderate Presbyterian clergy, most notably one Reverend Hugh Blair -- Hume affectionately referring "my Protestant Pastors" of Edinburgh, sometimes writing letters to them as a group, using Blair as the distribution point. In an essay published in 1748, Hume had denounced the clergy as vindictive hypocrites; a Reverend Robert Wallace of the Philosophical Society gently took him to task, and the two engaged in polite controversies from that time on, often collaborating on matters of relevance to the Society. Hume also had close contacts with other clergymen, an observer writing:
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He took much to the company of the younger clergy, not from a wish to bring them over to his own opinions, for he never undertook to overturn any man's principles, but they best understood his notions, and could furnish him with literary conversation ... This intimacy of the young clergy with David Hume enraged the zealots on the opposite side, who little knew how impossible it was for him, had he been willing, to shake their principles.
END QUOTE
Hume was a popular dinner guest, which was welcome to him because of his limited means, his friends understanding his circumstances and enjoying his company in any case. Even those put off by his reputation for impiety found him hardly the vile monster that rumor established him to be. The architect Robert Adam, a friend of Hume's, was informed by his mother that she would be glad to have any of her son's companions to dinner, but made a sharp exception for "the Atheist".
Adam, judging his mother would think differently if she actually met the cheerful Hume, brought him to dinner in her house anyway, misleading her as to his identify. After the company parted, she told her son: "I must confess that you bring very agreeable companions with you, but the large jolly man who sat next me is the most agreeable of them all."
Adam replied: "This was the very Atheist, Mother, that you was so much afraid of."
She accepted that with little difficulty: "Well, you may bring him here as much as you please, for he's the most innocent, agreeable, facetious man I ever met with."
Hume tried to reciprocate the hospitality, hosting suppers in his flat for small groups of friends, laying his table with what he judged tasty, but necessarily inexpensive. Those who met him for the first time, however, wondered if this David Hume was the same man as the increasingly famed philosopher. Although he tried to look the part of a gentleman scholar, wearing as fine clothes as he could afford on his budget, he didn't seem to play the part so well. It wasn't just his awkward bulk, it was his bubbling humor, his stream of hamfisted jokes, the impression made being that of a cheerful, fat, over-aged kid. Hume may have been a deep thinker, but he wasn't a particularly quick one. He tried his hand at satires for a time, hoping to emulate Jonathan Swift, only to give them up when he realized he had no aptitude in that direction.
In addition, for whatever reasons Hume didn't adopt the refined diction preferred by Scottish intellectuals, instead retaining his strong Lowlands Scot accent, by which he could hardly be distinguished from a Scots peasant. A relative commented that once while walking with Hume, Hume started talking to himself; on being asked what was about, Hume irritably replied: "Laird, canna ye let a body amuse themselves without always clatterin'? I did nae ken ye was there, and nae matter, ye had nae bus'ness to meddle wi' me!"
Another of Hume's idiosyncrasies was an inclination to fix people with a vacant stare when they spoke to him, which some found unnerving; he said he wasn't aware of the habit. However, it was likely fortunate for Hume that he did not appear so extraordinary as he actually was. His formal thinking was at a level that few could match, let alone exceed; he could not have so enjoyed the company of others had he lived at that remote plane, and he would have been painfully isolated. Such a life was impractical anyway, it wasn't as if he spent all or even that much of his time at such heights -- as Hume pointed on in an essay contrasting the intelligence of humans and animals, Hume suggesting that the gulf between them wasn't so wide:
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... it is impossible, that this inference of the animal can be founded on any process of argument or reasoning, by which he concludes, that like events must follow like objects, and that the course of nature will always be regular in its operations. For if there be in reality any arguments of this nature, they surely lie too abstruse for the observation of [the] imperfect understandings [of animals incapable of] the utmost care and attention of a philosophic genius to discover and observe them.
Animals, therefore, are not guided in these inferences by reasoning. Neither are children; neither are the generality of mankind, in their ordinary actions and conclusions. Neither are philosophers themselves, who, in all the active parts of life, are, in the main the same with the vulgar, and are governed by of the same maxims.
END QUOTE
Hume never took philosophy more seriously than it needed to be; indeed, part of his philosophy rested on his ability to skeptically determine when it shouldn't rightly be taken seriously at all. When Hume wasn't philosophizing, he was happy attending to business or playing cards -- comments of acquaintances hint that he was a very sharp card player -- or otherwise engaging himself. His unrefined style was clearly no act; but one still suspects that Hume never made an effort to give up his strong Scots accent or otherwise alter his common way of doing things, because he knew that would the road to a solitude that would be intolerable.
BACK_TO_TOP* By middle age Hume had, if not abandoned or disavowed philosophy, moved on to further ambitions. Philosophy, he'd been there and done that; now he focused on writing a definitive history of England, one in which he hoped to set a higher standard of scholarship and impartiality to those currently available. To achieve this, he needed access to a good library, that not being as straightforward a matter in his time as it is now. He managed to obtain such access by accepting a position as librarian to the Edinburgh Faculty of Advocates -- an independent organization of Scots lawyers, still in existence. The library was one of the best in Britain at the time; indeed, much later it would hand off all its non-legal titles to seed the National Library of Scotland.
However, the "zealots" still had him in their sights, raising a fuss in 1754 over Hume's order of several "indecent Books", with the order canceled by the trustees of the library, much to Hume's annoyance. Hume managed to retain his position there through the gesture of handing over his modest salary as librarian to Thomas Blacklock, a blind scholar, one of his friends. Hume wrote Adam Smith of his satisfaction with setting the critics in their place:
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I have now put it out of these malicious Fellows power to offer me any Indignity; while my Motives for remaining in this Office are so apparent. I shou'd be glad that you approve of my Conduct: I own I am satisfy'd with myself.
END QUOTE
Given Hume's financially tight lifestyle, the modest salary for his position as librarian would have been welcome, but his motive was primarily to obtain resources to work on this history. Hume stayed at the position, fleshing out his work, until 1757. The history got off to a rocky start, Hume writing in his autobiography:
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... being frightened with the notion of continuing a narrative through a period of 1700 years, I commenced with the accession of the house of Stuart, an epoch when, I thought, the misrepresentations of faction began chiefly to take place. I was, I own, sanguine in my expectations of the success of this work. I thought that I was the only historian, that had at once neglected present power, interest, and authority, and the cry of popular prejudices; and as the subject was suited to every capacity, I expected proportional applause.
But miserable was my disappointment: I was assailed by one cry of reproach, disapprobation, and even detestation; English, Scotch, and Irish, Whig and Tory, churchman and sectary, freethinker and religionist, patriot and courtier, united in their rage against the man, who had presumed 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 still more mortifying, the book seemed to sink into oblivion ...
I scarcely, indeed, heard of one man in the three kingdoms, considerable for rank or letters, that could endure the book. I must only except the primate of England, Dr. Herring, and the primate of Ireland, Dr. Stone, which seem two odd exceptions. These dignified prelates separately sent me messages not to be discouraged.
END QUOTE
The poor sales of the first volume were due to the ineptitude of the publisher, Gavin Hamilton. Hume, though he had given up on commerce as such after his labors in service to a Bristol merchant in his youth, was necessarily experienced in dealing with the publishing business; he judged Hamilton a decent and sincere man, but lacking commercial sense. Hume, despite the encouragements of the two prelates, was discouraged:
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... had not the [Seven Years' War] been at that time breaking out between France and England, I had certainly retired to some provincial town of the former kingdom, have changed my name, and never more have returned to my native country. But as this scheme was not now practicable, and the subsequent volume was considerably advanced, I resolved to pick up courage and to persevere.
... In 1756, two years after the fall of the first volume, was published the second volume of my HISTORY, containing the period from the death of Charles I till the Revolution. This performance happened to give less displeasure to the Whigs, and was better received. It not only rose itself, but helped to buoy up its unfortunate brother.
... In 1759, I published my HISTORY of the house of Tudor. The clamour against this performance was almost equal to that against the HISTORY of the two first Stuarts. The reign of Elizabeth was particularly obnoxious. But I was now callous against the impressions of public folly, and continued very peaceably and contentedly in my retreat 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, success.
END QUOTE
The cycle of downs and ups suffered by the HISTORY exasperated Hume, as reflected in a letter Hume wrote to his good friend Adam Smith in 1759, referring to the publication of Smith's THEORY OF MORAL SENTIMENTS:
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A wise man's kingdom is his own breast: or, if he ever looks farther, it will only be to the judgment of a select few, who are free from prejudices, and capable of examining his work. Nothing indeed can be a stronger presumption of falsehood than the approbation of the multitude; and Phocion, you know, always suspected himself of some blunder when he was attended with the applauses of the populace.
END QUOTE
Of necessity, Hume had learned not to be overly discouraged about the poor reception of his works -- and given their endurance to this day, in hindsight his detached attitude was wise. However, although this comment often shows up in citations of Hume, the next paragraph turns it on its head in a mixture of affection, slyness, and exasperation:
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Supposing, therefore, that you have duly prepared yourself for the worst by all these reflections; I proceed to tell you the melancholy news, that your book has been very unfortunate: for the public seem disposed to applaud it extremely.
It was looked for by the foolish people with some impatience; and the mob of literati are beginning already to be very loud in its praises. Three bishops called yesterday at Millar's [Smith's publisher] shop in order to buy copies, and to ask questions about the author. The Bishop of Peterborough said he had passed the evening in a company where he heard it extolled above all books in the world.
You may conclude what opinion true philosopher will entertain of it, when these retainers to superstition praise it so highly. ... Millar exults and brags that two-thirds of the edition is already sold, and that he is now sure of success. You see what a son of the earth that is, to value books only by the profit they bring him. In that view, I believe it may prove a very good book.
END QUOTE
Hume might well have been even more exasperated if he had any premonition that Smith would be far better known to later generations than himself. In any case, the publication of the volumes of the HISTORY in the reverse chronological order suggest to pranksters that Hume, like witches, said his prayers backwards. All the "clamour" gradually died down to a low rumble, it seems in part after he made some changes to eliminate comments that he judged "needlessly impolitic". In the 1760s, the HISTORY became a best-seller. Having endured the trials, Hume then reaped the rewards:
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But, notwithstanding this variety of winds and seasons, to which my writings had been exposed, they had still been making such advances, that the copy-money given me by the booksellers, much exceeded anything formerly known in England; I was become not only independent, but opulent. I retired to my native country of Scotland, determined never more to set my foot out of it; and retaining the satisfaction of never having preferred a request to one great man, or even making advances of friendship to any of them.
END QUOTE
The popularity of Hume's HISTORY was well-deserved, his work being much more impartial, thorough, and readable than its predecessors. It would remain a standard for over a century, and indeed Hume would be long known as a historian, not a philosopher.
BACK_TO_TOP* While working on the HISTORY, Hume also wrote essays and dissertations, which in some cases drew fire. In 1755, he attempted to publish a volume that included "The Natural History of Religion" and "A Dissertation on the Passions" -- a rewrite of the second volume of the TREATISE -- as well as the essays "Of Suicide" and "Of the Immortality of the Soul". His publisher, Andrew Millar, came under attack, the charge being led by the Reverend William Warburton, a single-minded critic of Hume of long standing. Hume quietly dropped the two controversial dissertations, on suicide and the immortality of the soul -- substituting "Of Tragedy" and "Of the Standard of Taste" into the volume that was published as FOUR DISSERTATIONS in 1757.
The dissertation "The Natural History of Religion" was one of Hume's more significant philosophical works. It was written as something of an anthropological study of religions in general, demonstrating their variations and evolution -- Hume had interesting insights on the virtues of polytheism -- with an underlying critical context. It is a little surprising that it managed to squeak by in the face of religious resistance, but Hume carefully disguised the breadth of its message in equivocations, in particular slyly offering them as criticisms of "false" religions, particularly Catholicism, that fed the bigotries of Warburton and his like.
The essay "Of Suicide" was one of Hume's noteworthy essays. It didn't encourage anyone to commit suicide, it simply claimed there were situations where it could be justified, and claiming it was an affront to moral law was fatuous: "... the life of a man is of no greater importance to the universe than that of an oyster."
The essay "Of The Immortality Of The Soul" was one of Hume's best essays, a tour de force that punctured the dubious reasoning behind claims of a soul and afterlife. He started with the long-standing argument for an immaterial soul on the basis that the mind is immaterial, and therefore it must have an immaterial basis in the soul: "Metaphysical topics suppose that the soul is immaterial, and that 'tis impossible for thought to belong to a material substance."
Hume pointed out in response that if we arbitrarily declare that some unseen immaterial property is needed to support the mind, we have no way of saying that matter cannot have that same immaterial property. As Hume said: "Matter ... and spirit, are at bottom equally unknown, and we cannot determine what qualities inhere in the one or in the other."
Hume also pointed out another confusion, a peculiar asymmetry, in that the immortality of the soul implies a existence without beginning or end. However, the lack of a beginning is generally disregarded, with consideration focused on the lack of an end: "The Soul ... if immortal, existed before our birth; and if the former existence no ways concerned us, neither will the latter." If we dismiss the notion of life before birth -- as most people do, since it's a consideration of no practical consequence -- then why do we take the idea of life after death more seriously?
Finally, Hume turned to empirical observations of the real world, showing that -- effectively by definition -- we can have no evidence of unseen worlds, and that the idea of an immaterial and immortal soul isn't supported by any experience. Unfortunately, "Of The Immortality Of The Soul" also included another one of Hume's rare gaffes:
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On the theory of the Soul's mortality, the inferiority of women's capacity is easily accounted for. Their domestic life requires no higher faculties, either of mind or body.
END QUOTE
Again, it was conventional thinking of the time, and in fair compensation in another writing, "Of Essay Writing", had glowing praise for women:
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... Women, that is, Women of Sense and Education ... are much better Judges of all polite Writing than Men of the same Degree of Understanding ... In a neighbouring Nation [France], equally famous for good Taste, and for Gallantry, the Ladies are, in a Manner, the Sovereigns of the learned World, as well as of the conversible; and no polite Writer pretends to venture upon the Public, without the Approbation of some celebrated Judges of that Sex.
END QUOTE
However, it was "The Natural History Of Religion" that was more problematic for Hume, who had to be careful in the publication of the dissertation to make minor changes in wording to give Warburton less to sink his teeth into. Incidentally, in 1761 the Catholic Church would place Hume's books on their banned list -- which may have been, from Hume's point of view, all for the good in providing cover against his adversaries at home.
Warburton still snapped at Hume, writing and distributing an anonymous pamphlet, prefaced by a Reverend Richard Hurd, on "The Natural History of Religion" that consisted of little but barking and abuse. Hume went on with his business, though he remained annoyed with Warburton, writing in his autobiography:
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In this interval, I published at London my NATURAL HISTORY OF RELIGION, along with some other small pieces: its public entry was rather obscure, except only that Dr. Hurd wrote a pamphlet against it, with all the illiberal petulance, arrogance, and scurrility, which distinguish the Warburtonian school. This pamphlet gave me some consolation for the otherwise indifferent reception of my performance.
END QUOTE
One might wonder if a youthful David Hume, when he had set out to become a "Scholar and a Philosopher", had any clear idea of how that course of action would inevitably make him the target of buffoons and humbugs such as Warburton.
Warburton wasn't the end of it, either. Controversy against Hume in Scotland had come to a head before the publication of that volume. His essays "Of Miracles" and "Of A Particular Providence & A Future State" from the first ENQUIRY had, as mentioned earlier, drawn the wrath of the critics; after several years of sputtering attacks on Hume, in 1756 members of the Evangelical wing of the Church of Scotland decided to take formal action against him, suggesting that Hume be excommunicated from the church.
In hindsight, it is hard to know what to make of this confused and confusing exercise in religious theatrics. Scotland had last hanged a heretic in 1697 -- a teenaged lad named Thomas Aikenhead, sent to the gallows for having orally ridiculed some of the tales of the Old Testament. There was no real chance of that happening to Hume, Scots by then generally finding the idea of executing heretics as savagery; the Witches Act, which made witchcraft a capital offense, had been repealed by the British Parliament in 1736. One hopes the repeal was made in a certain spirit of embarrassment; however, the church still did on occasion formally condemn and burn books.
Hume didn't see the furor as anything but a tempest in a teacup, writing to Adam Smith: "I do not apprehend it to be Matter of any consequence." It appears to have been largely a battle between the Evangelical and Moderate wings of the church, Hume being to an extent a pretext for Evangelicals to attack the Moderates. The Evangelicals, however, were the ones in a weak position, since any action taken against a scholar so internationally prominent as Hume -- and so widely known as an amicable, if not completely inoffensive, gentleman -- would only make the church look ignorant and foolish, the ultimate effect being to boost Hume's standing.
The Moderates had their differences with Hume, but had no cause to abuse him. The Moderates eventually triumphed over the Evangelicals, and attempts to take formal action against Hume ceased -- though he continued to dread the hostility of the clergy, writing to Adam Smith in 1759: "Scotland suits my Fortune best, & is the Seat of my principal Friendships; but it is too narrow a Place for me, and it mortifies me that I sometimes hurt my friends."
BACK_TO_TOP* Hume did think of relocating. He went to London in 1758 to attend to the publication of the volume of his HISTORY on the House of Tudor, writing to a friend: "I shall certainly be in London next summer; and probably to remain there during life ... "
He took up residence at a lodging house there that catered to Scots gentleman and remained into 1759, attending to his business and expanding his circle of contacts. New-found friends included a circle of progressive clerics, who as a mutual entertainment crossed swords with Hume, there being no intention of drawing blood. Samuel Johnson was not so easy-going about Hume, easy-going not being Johnson's style; Johnson walked out of a gathering in high dudgeon when Hume arrived, his companion and biographer James Boswell writing: "He holds Mr. Hume in abhorrence and left a company one night upon his coming in."
Those who differed with Johnson's opinion and were pleased to make Hume's acquaintance included Benjamin Franklin, resident in England to lobby for the colony of Pennsylvania but well-known as a scholar, and the aspiring historian Edward Gibbon, then in his later twenties. Hume, in his previous visits to London, had deplored the lack of a good public library in such a cosmopolitan city. Fortunately, in early 1759 the British Museum opened its doors; Hume was granted the right to use the museum's reading room.
All might have seemed congenial for Hume in London, but the city became hostile to him, if not entirely for the same reasons that generated hostility towards him in Scotland. As mentioned above, the Seven Years' War had broken out in 1756, leading to resounding victories of the British over the French in Canada, India, and on the seas. Britain had clearly come of age as the power of the world, and the English were feeling very pumped about themselves. For reasons difficult to understand from the distance of centuries, this grand self-conception of the English was coupled to a nasty undercurrent of hostility to the Scots -- lingering spite over the Jacobite rebellion being one clear factor, though it appears a mix of others was involved.
One such contributing factor was the influence of Lord Bute, the Scots "favourite" of King George III, Bute being a target of angry abuse; his term as Britain's prime minister from 1762 was short-lived, even King George turning against him, Bute resigning after less than a year in office under a cloud. The "general Rage against the Scots", as Hume put it, was too strong for Hume to safely ignore; in 1764, Hume would write a letter to Gilbert Eliot, a friend dating back to university days, stating:
BEGIN QUOTE:
I do not believe there is one Englishman in fifty, who, if he heard that I had broke my Neck to night, would not be rejoic'd with it. Some hate me because I am not a Tory, some because I am not a Whig, some because I am not a Christian, and all because I am a Scotsman.
END QUOTE
Hume returned to Edinburgh in late 1759, preferring it to London despite all the stones also being thrown at him in Scotland -- though he went back to London in 1761 for further business related to publication. He had no desire to stay, returning again to Edinburgh late in the year, carrying some sense of bitterness.
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