"June 26, 1766.
"As I am conscious of having ever acted towards you the most friendly part, of having always given
you the most tender and the most active proofs of sincere affection, you may judge of my extreme surprise on perusing your epistle. Such violent accusations, confined altogether to generalities, it is as impossible to answer, as it is impossible to comprehend them. But affairs cannot, must not, remain on that footing. I shall charitably suppose that some infamous calumniator has belied me to you. But, in that case, it is your duty, and, I am persuaded, it will be your inclination, to give me an opportunity of detecting him, and of justifying myself; which can only be done by your mentioning the particulars of which I am accused. You say, that I myself know that I have been false to you; but I say it loudly, and will say it to the whole world, that I know the contrary; that I know my friendship towards you has been unbounded and uninterrupted; and that though I have given you instances of it, which have been universally remarked both in France and England, the public as yet are acquainted only with the smallest part of it. I demand, that you name to me the man who dares assert the contrary; and, above all, I demand, that he shall mention any one particular in which I have been wanting to you. You owe this to me; you owe it to yourself; you owe it to truth, and honour, and justice, and to every thing deemed sacred among men. As an innocent man—for I will not say, as your friend; I will not say, as your benefactor; but I repeat it, as an innocent man, I claim the privilege of proving my innocence, and of refuting any scandalous falsehood which may have been invented against me. Mr. Davenport, to whom I have sent a copy of your letter, and who will read this before he delivers it, will, I am confident, second my demand, and tell you that nothing can be more equitable.
Happily I have preserved the letter you wrote me after your arrival at Wooton; and you there express, in the strongest terms, in terms indeed too strong, your satisfaction in my poor endeavours to serve you. The little epistolary intercourse, which afterwards passed between us, has been all employed on my side to the most friendly purposes. Tell me, then, what has since given you offence. Tell me, of what I am accused. Tell me the man who accuses me. Even after you have fulfilled all these conditions to my satisfaction, and to that of Mr. Davenport, you will still have great difficulty to justify your employing such outrageous terms towards a man, with whom you have been so intimately connected, and who was entitled, on many accounts, to have been treated by you with more regard and decency.
"Mr. Davenport knows the whole transaction about your pension, because I thought it necessary that the person who had undertaken your settlement should be fully acquainted with your circumstances; lest he should be tempted to perform towards you concealed acts of generosity, which, if they accidentally came to your knowledge, might give you some grounds of offence. I am, sir," &c.[328:1]
In here exhibiting a few of the prominent features of the quarrel between Hume and Rousseau, there is no intention of entering on a defence of Hume, or a full examination of the conduct of the parties. Viewing it as a picturesque incident in literary history, the reader will probably feel an interest in such new light as may be thrown upon it on the present occasion; but, it is presumed that few who
have made themselves acquainted with the material circumstances of the dispute, as they have been already made known, will expect any thing to be said that can alter their appreciation of the conduct of the parties. Where there are personal disputes, there is no cause so hopelessly bad as to be without partisans; and when no other motive comes into action, a feeling of generosity towards one who seems to have forfeited the good opinion of his kind, calls forth a few vindicators and supporters. It was natural that Rousseau, a man of great genius, whose writings had produced a prodigious influence on his age,—one who had shown, in many instances, the outward manifestations of a kind unselfish disposition, and who had discarded, with an air of magnanimous scorn, all the grovelling ties that bind the human creature to the earth on which he crawls,—should have champions and supporters in any dispute in which he might be involved, be his conduct what it might. Thus he had a few vindicators, chiefly of the female sex, while he lived: but gradually, when feelings of personal sympathy had died away, the conduct of the disputants ceased to be weighed against each other in the same scales. People did not inquire which of them had acted more fairly and justly than the other; but, putting Rousseau's conduct out of the question as a criterion, they asked, whether that of Hume was kind and magnanimous towards the unfortunate monomaniac?[329:1] Although this view is plainly
to be traced in the sentiments of those who have fugitively touched on the dispute, it is to be gathered
more from the general tone of their remarks, than from any direct avowal of belief, that Rousseau was a monomaniac.[331:1] There is a majesty in genius, that makes us reluctant thus to ally it with the debasement of the human intellect. Yet, too often, some portion of the most brilliant mind is thus eclipsed, though the brightness of what is clear prevents our seeing easily the blackened spot. In Rousseau's case, there has been, perhaps, a disinclination to admit the "plea of
insanity," on account of the wonderful practical sagacity that accompanied his aberrations. Though apparently surveying the world with a sick and careless eye, he occasionally penetrated into the depths of the human heart, and marked its secrets, with an accuracy that made the practised and systematic observer's survey seem but a superficial glance. He had a mind at times eminently practical,[332:1] and suited to estimate men's conduct and character: and thus appearing before the world, there has been much hesitation to pronounce, that the sincerity of insanity accompanied all his vile charges against a man whose heart could not have been for one moment visited by the atrocities of which he is accused.