David Hume was born in Edinburgh, April 26, 1711. His father, who was descended from a branch of the Earl of Home’s, or Hume’s, family, died while David was an infant, leaving him, with an elder brother and sister, to the care of his mother, the daughter of Sir Edward Falconer, who devoted the remainder of her days to the welfare of her children. Her property was inconsiderable, and that which fell to David, as a younger son, was very slender. His family, observing the manner in which he acquitted himself at college, would have fixed his attention on the law; but his growing passion for philosophy and general learning rendered him averse to that pursuit, and after a fruitless attempt at Bristol to reconcile himself to a more active kind of employment, he went to France, where he laid down that plan of life to which he ever afterwards adhered. It now became his fixed resolve to secure his independence by means of the most rigid frugality; and to deem every acquisition contemptible, except the improvement of his talents in literature. This was in 1734.

During his three years’ residence in France, Hume composed his Treatise of Human Nature, which he published on his return to England in 1738. The work failed to attract the slightest notice from friend or foe. But our young aspirant was not dismayed; and his buoyant spirit was much strengthened by the degree of success which attended the appearance of the first part of his Essays, which were published at Edinburgh in 1742.

In 1745 Hume quitted the residence of his mother and brother, in compliance with an invitation from the Marquis of Annandale; the friends of that young nobleman having thought that his health and mind required the aid which such a tutorship, or companionship, for we hardly know which to call it, would afford. Hume states, that his employment during the twelve months thus passed in England made a considerable accession to his small fortune. “I thus received,” he says, “an invitation from General St. Clair to attend him as a secretary to his expedition, which was at first meant against Canada, but ended in an incursion on the coast of France. Next year, to wit 1747, I received an invitation from the General to attend him in the same station in his military embassy to the courts of Vienna and Turin. I then wore the uniform of an officer, and was introduced at those courts as aid-de-camp to the General, along with Sir Harry Erskine, and Captain Grant, now General Grant. These two years were almost the only interruptions my studies received during the course of my life.”

In 1747 Hume re-cast the first part of his Treatise of Human Nature, and published it under the title of an Inquiry concerning Human Understanding. But this amended performance also failed to produce any immediate effects; and a new edition of his Essays Moral and Political, published about the same time in London, found scarcely a better reception. Still looking to the hopeful side of things, our author composed during 1749 and 1750 the second part of his Essays, which were called Political Discourses; and also his Inquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, which was another part of his ill-fated Treatise of Human Nature, in a new form. By this time some of the more obnoxious parts of that treatise began to call forth opponents, and it became evident that its author, though much more frequently censured than applauded, was a man of rising reputation. This result was favoured by his determination never to reply to any of his critics, a resolve which the peculiarities of his temper enabled him to act upon to the end of life.

In 1751 he removed to Edinburgh, and being chosen librarian by the Faculty of Advocates in the following year, the plan of writing his History of England was formed. This memorable work commenced with the accession of the House of Stuart; and the author, who was sanguine as to its success, relates that “on the publication of the first volume, he scarcely knew a man in the three kingdoms, considerable for rank or letters, that could endure the book.” After a sale of less than fifty copies in the first year, the work seemed fast sinking into oblivion. This disappointment appears to have affected Hume more than any event which had befallen him; and, had not the war with France at that juncture prevented it, he would probably have gone to that country, never again to have seen his own. But the habits induced by a passion for literature are not easily put in abeyance. Soon after receiving this discouragement, Hume published his Natural History of Religion. In 1756 the second volume of the History of England made its appearance, “which not only rose itself, but helped to buoy up its unfortunate brother.” The third volume, relating to the House of Tudor, appeared in 1759, and was censured hardly less than the first. In 1761, the two volumes embracing the early period of our history were published, and, according to their author “with tolerable, and but tolerable success.”

Hume now formed the purpose of spending the remainder of his days in philosophical retirement in Scotland; but was induced in 1763 to visit Paris, in connexion with the embassy of the Earl of Hertford to that city. The honours paid to our philosopher and historian in that capital once disposed him to think of settling there for life. He had now passed his fiftieth year, and his official residence in Paris extended, with a slight intermission, to six years—from 1763 to 1769. From the period of his leaving Paris, to 1775, when his last sickness came upon him, his time appears to have been given chiefly to the enjoyment of his friends; his authorship, and other employments, having secured him an income of not less than 1000l. a year. A disorder in the bowels, which reduced him considerably, but without becoming the occasion of much pain, or at all affecting his spirits, ended his life, August 25, 1776, in the sixty-fifth year of his age.

Hume’s character as a man has been sketched by himself, and his account may be admitted as, in most respects, substantially accurate. He describes himself as mild in disposition, possessing a command of temper, of an open, social, and cheerful humour, capable of attachment, but little susceptible of enmity, and of great moderation in his passions. “Even my love of literary fame,” he adds, “my ruling passion, never soured my temper, notwithstanding my frequent disappointments. My company was not unacceptable to the young and careless, as well as to the studious and literary; and as I took a particular pleasure in the company of modest women, I had no reason to be displeased with the reception I met with from them. In a word, though most men any wise eminent, have found reason to complain of calumny, I never was touched, or even attacked by her baleful tooth: and though I wantonly exposed myself to the rage of both civil and religious factions, they seemed to be disarmed in my behalf of their wonted fury. My friends never had occasion to vindicate any one circumstance of my character and conduct.” Much to this effect is the testimony of Dr. Adam Smith, the intimate friend of Hume. This writer, indeed, does not hesitate to speak of him “as approaching as nearly to the idea of a perfectly wise and virtuous man, as perhaps the nature of human frailty will permit.” Some deduction should of course be made from this language, as that of a natural self-love in the one instance, and of an ardent friendship in the other. It is no proof, for example, of Hume’s exemption from the irascible passions, that he should have been so rarely capable of adverting to the opponents of his favourite speculations in morals or religion, without indulging in reproachful and degrading language; “bigots” and “zealots” being the designations flung at such persons on almost all occasions. In the same spirit the name of a “faction,” is his favourite one for that large class of politicians in this country whose principles did not embrace so much of “the monstrous creed of many made for one,” as belonged to his own. And it is worthy of notice, that a passage in his memoirs, which was inserted by him as an evidence of his exemption from this sort of prejudice and resentment, affords one of the most decisive proofs that he shared in this common weakness much more than himself or his admirers were willing to allow. “Though I had been taught by experience,” he writes, “that the Whig party were in possession of bestowing all places, both in the state and in literature, I was so little inclined to yield to their senseless clamour, that in above a hundred alterations, which further study, reading, or reflection, engaged me to make in the reigns of the two first Stuarts, I have made all of them invariably to the Tory side.” Now what reader can suppose that the inaccuracies detected by a mind without bias, could possibly have occurred in this shape—a hundred on one side, and not one on the other! The fact itself, and the tone in which it is recorded, disclose what our philosopher would fain have concealed. We leave the moral conduct of Hume in the spotless state set forth by his own description of it, though we cannot forbear to remark that such language comes somewhat strangely from a gentleman who had been so fascinated with the manner of the Parisian fashionables under Louis XV., as to have thought of never leaving them. We believe, however, that in his case, the principal attraction of such society was its polish, and not its almost incredible licentiousness. We learn, that in one of those gay assemblies, Hume was induced to make his appearance in the character of a Sultan, placed on a sofa between two of the most beautiful women in Paris. It was his province to solicit the favours of these ladies, and it was theirs to act the part of fair ones who were not to be subdued, and in the dialogue, or rather trilogue, which lasted some quarter of an hour, the author of the Treatise of Human Nature, and of the History of England, acquitted himself, we are told, much to the edification of all who were present^[3]. In these moments of relaxation, the philosopher was regarded as discovering his amiable sympathy with the ordinary feelings of humanity. It does not appear to have occurred to him, or to his flatterers, to consider the much stronger evidence of the want of such sympathy, which was afforded by his approval of the system of government which had so long spread its terrors and its wrongs over the length and breadth of that splendid, miserable country. Our limits will not allow of any reference to the particulars of the public dispute between Hume and Rousseau, and we therefore abstain from expressing any opinion respecting it.

In the philosophical writings of Hume, the great element is scepticism. He had many precursors in that sort of amusing speculation which tends to throw doubt over received opinions; and which, as a natural effect of human vanity, does so the more in regard to those notions which happen to be retained most generally and with the greatest confidence. But these limits did not satisfy the author of the Treatise of Human Nature. The drift of his philosophy is to prove, not only that nothing is known, but that nothing can be known; that the human race are shut up in the most entire ignorance, partly from the character of the objects around them, but mainly from the very framework and nature of the human understanding. Much ingenuity and acuteness was required to give any plausible appearance to a theory so contrary to the natural impressions of mankind, and Hume’s philosophical works afford evidence enough of the sort of talent necessary to his object. But he well knew, that however proper, and however felicitous it might be, to lay low the giant spirit of dogmatism by such means, his own conclusions, in every instance of importance, were hardly less dogmatic than those of his opponents, the principal difference being, that the sources of his assumptions were somewhat more difficult to detect and expose. For what assumption can be greater than that of a right to believe in all unbelief? In this case, the very faculty that doubts must be a figment of vanity. The writer who determines to assail everything, forces on mankind a suspicion of caprice and insincerity, and is not likely to demolish anything. By attempting less, Hume would have accomplished more; and he would not then have called forth that array of philosophic power against himself, which has done so much damage to his reputation in this department of his labours. His miscellaneous Essays abound in valuable observations, and are fine models of English composition. The manner in which he met his death is the stock theme with the superficial, as illustrating the power of philosophy. But the man of reflection may perhaps see as much of the weakness of humanity in that event, as of the strength of philosophy; and certainly he will not need to be told, that nothing can be more delusive than the use generally made of such scenes.

It is not however as the philosopher, but as the historian, that Hume is known to the majority of persons, both in this country and on the continent. Those habits of close thought, and that careful use of language, to which he had been so long accustomed in his philosophical studies, qualified him, in a high degree, to treat the topics of history with discrimination, simplicity, and clearness. The evil to be feared was, that he would often allow the sprightliness of narrative to sink into the dullness of disquisition; and that even his narrative would be deficient in that selection of familiar anecdote, and in those picturesque descriptions, which, while having little relation to the great lessons of history, are certainly among its great attractions. But it happens that the narrative of Xenophon himself is not more easy and uninterrupted than that of Hume; nor has the former writer shown a stronger disposition to dwell on domestic incidents, or to throw a dramatic colouring over public occurrences, than the latter. Never did any man bring so much of the power of abstruse thought to the writing of history, and appear to be so much served and so little inconvenienced by it. His station and intercourse in society added much of the feeling and manners of the gentleman to the more grave attainments of the man of learning, and tended to produce that combination of qualities, which made his society at all times agreeable, and has thrown a nameless and irresistible charm over his historical writing. His style was the result of great elaboration, but has every appearance of being that which must have been adopted without effort. It is open, indeed, in almost every page, to much verbal criticism, no book perhaps of the same standing being in this respect so vulnerable. But these lesser blemishes are forgotten amid the many natural and delightful graces with which it is adorned; graces which no one can help feeling, but which it would be as difficult to describe as to imitate.

Having however spoken thus of Mr. Hume’s style, and remarked the general acuteness and frequent justice of his observations, we have fairly exhausted our topics of praise. With regard to the two most valuable qualities of a historian—research and integrity, the claims of Hume are in the inverse position of his pretensions in other respects. Instead of seeking, as the author of the Essay on Miracles might have been expected to do, for the best possible testimonies, for these in the greatest possible number, and then sifting them to the utmost, we find him committing himself, with apparent unconsciousness, to the most incompetent guides, often to a single authority where several were accessible, and where several are adduced, attaching no more credit to the depositions of an intelligent writer contemporary with what he records, than to that of some worthless chronicler, who lived some centuries later! This is particularly the case with regard to that portion of our history which precedes the Reformation; and there cannot be a greater mistake than to suppose that his references at the foot of the page in these earlier volumes indicate the sources from which the material of his text was derived. “Ingenious but superficial” is the description of these volumes which Gibbon recorded in his diary, after reading them. In the more modern period of our history, as the authorities relating to it may be consulted by an indolent man with less labour, and by a man of taste with less disgust, we find a little more research and discrimination, but by no means sufficient to render his accounts worthy of implicit confidence, even when not liable to be affected by any of his known partialities. It is to this deficient industry, and to the consequent want of a steady mastery of his subject before beginning to write upon it, that we have mainly to attribute the perpetual contradictions which occur in his description of the great contest under the Stuart princes; contradictions which are so many and so irreconcilable as to make his book one of the most inconsistent that ever emanated from a man of ordinary powers. We have not, of course, space in which to exhibit the proofs of this statement;—but we are confident that inquiry will prove it to be correct.

But the want of industry, though a serious delinquency in a historian, is almost venial when compared with a want of impartiality, and the deficiency of Hume in this last quality has been often and largely exposed. The extent in which the historian was conscious of his own habit of unfairness, it is not in our power to determine; but there is hardly a conceivable form of disingenuousness, of which his volumes might not be shown to afford numerous and striking examples. The volume embracing the reigns of James and Charles was first published, and we have seen that the reception it met with only taught the author to resolve, with a more fixed purpose, as to the complexion of those which were to follow. In instances where his integrity is in the main preserved, his eloquence is often so far misdirected that the truth becomes discoloured, and makes the impression of falsehood. In his hands the faults of his favourites lose much of their magnitude and grossness, while their merits are raised much above their proper level, and with regard to their opponents, the inverse process is adopted. Disagreeable facts are passed over, or but partially and very artfully developed; while others, of an opposite nature, have all prominence, and all imaginable force assigned them. Incidents of very rare occurrence, and existing only as exceptions, are culled with the greatest care, and presented as the rule, and as no more than samples of the abundance that might be adduced. And in describing the reasonings and the motives by which the contending parties from time to time were influenced, it is the fixed usage of this writer to consult his own prejudices or imagination much more than the lights afforded by the documents of the times. These summaries, as they are called, are inserted by Hume, in the place of the speeches which the ancient historians were wont to put into the mouth of their leading men; and, interesting as they are, deserve no more credit, considered as the character of parties, or as accounts of what was really said, than it is usual to bestow on those elaborate harangues. There is much reason to believe that the historian began the reigns of the two first Stuarts with a sincere conviction that sufficient allowance had not been made for the peculiar situation of those princes. But his delinquencies are such, that this excuse must be of small avail in his defence. The majority of more than one generation in this country have derived their notions of English history almost exclusively from the pages of Hume; but so low has he fallen as a historical authority, that the persons who have read scarcely anything else, rarely show courage, or rather weakness, enough to make any appeal to him.