went no higher than suspicion, while he was in London; but it rose to certainty after he arrived in the country; for that there were several publications in the papers against him, which could have proceeded from nobody but me, or my confederate, Horace Walpole. The rest is all of a like strain, intermixed with many lies and much malice. I own that I was very anxious about this affair, but this letter has totally relieved me. I write in a hurry, merely to satisfy your curiosity. I hope soon to see you, and am," &c.[346:1]
There could have been no incident better calculated than this to create a sensation in the coteries of Paris. Immediately on receiving the first angry letter, Hume sent an indignant account of the ingratitude and malevolence of Rousseau to the Baron D'Holbach, which proved a delightfully exciting morsel to a party assembled at his house; for the baron had told him, from the beginning, that he was warming a serpent in his bosom.[346:2] The very rapid celebrity which the story received does not seem to have been anticipated by Hume, and he says, apologetically, to Madame de Boufflers,—"I wrote, indeed, to Baron D'Holbach, without either recommending or expecting secrecy: but I thought this story, like others, would be told to eight or ten people; in a week or two, twenty or thirty more might hear it, and it would require three months before it would reach you at Pougues. I little imagined that a private story, told to a private gentleman, could run over a whole kingdom in a moment. If the King of England had declared war against the King of France, it could not have been more suddenly the subject of conversation."[346:3] Between the rupture and the
publication of the narrative regarding it, Hume seems to have written very abundantly on the subject, to his friends in Paris. The following is one of his letters:—
Hume to the Abbé Le Blanc.
Lisle Street, Leicester Fields, 12th August, 1766.
My dear Sir,—I have used the freedom to send to you, in two packets, by this post, the whole train of my correspondence with Rousseau, connected by a short narrative. I hope you will have leisure to peruse it. The story is incredible, as well as inconceivable, were it not founded on such authentic documents. Surely never was there so much wickedness and madness combined in one human creature; nor did ever any one meet with such a return for such signal services as those I performed towards him. But I am told that he used to say to Duclos, and others, that he hated all those to whom he owed any obligation. In that case I am fully entitled to his animosity.
I am really at a loss what use to make of this collection. The story, I am told, is very much the object of conversation at Paris. Though my conduct has been entirely innocent, or rather, indeed, very meritorious, it happens, no doubt, as is usual in such ruptures, that I will bear a part of the blame; from which a publication of these papers would entirely free me: yet I own I have an antipathy and reluctance to appeal to the public; and fear that such a publication would be the only blame I could incur in this affair. You know that nobody's judgment weighs farther with me than yours: think a little of the matter. If Mme. De Dupré were in town, I would desire her to give these papers a perusal, and tell me her opinions. Unhappily M. Trudaine would only understand the French part, which is by far the most considerable. What would his friend Fontenelle have done in this situation?
I am as great a lover of peace as he, and have kept myself as free from all literary quarrels; but surely neither he nor any other person was ever engaged in a controversy with a man of so much malice,—of such a profligate disposition to lies, and such great talents. It is nothing to dispute my style or my abilities as an historian or philosopher; my
books ought to answer for themselves, or they are not worth the defending;—to fifty writers who have attacked me on this head, I never made the least reply. But this is a different case; imputations are here thrown on my morals and my conduct; and, though my case is so clear as not to admit of the least controversy, yet it is only clear to those who know it; and I am uncertain how far the public in Paris are in this case. At London, a publication would be regarded as entirely superfluous.
I must desire you to send these papers to D'Alembert after you have read them: M. Turgot will get them from him. I should desire that he saw them before he sets out for his government.