ardour in politeness; and as that is pretty near akin to benevolence, I believe the indulgence of it may be a full recompense for the trouble. But that last principle will lead you back the road you went; for you left three ladies mourning for your departure, and the good man of the house has been in a vexation ever since, and can only be contented by a renewal of your kind intentions towards us, of passing some quiet days under our roof. Sir Gilbert came home from Jedburgh, and had seen your brother there, who told him he would find you here when he came back.
Enter Sir Gilbert. Where is Mr. Hume?—Answer: He is gone. When did he come?—About one o'clock. And when did he go away?—About five. What! have you quarrelled?—Yes. He and I had some little difference about his byeuks, and I tried to persuade him to burn them all, and write the other way; for, as I said, I was sure he would be a shining light, and equal the author of the "Pilgrim's Progress," or Mr. Ebenezer Erskine, if he would only take the right side; and he flew in a passion and went away in a huff! How could you think he would be persuaded by you? Pooh! though I am but a simple woman, before it be long he may be convinced I can see farther into a millstone than he can do; and if he had taken my advice, he might have rested his bones here this night in quiet, in place of rumbling along in the dark in a post chaise; and so in other matters too, I might perhaps do him a service if he would be ruled by me. My dear, how can you be so wild? And, my dear, where is the harm in telling one's mind, when you think you can do good by it, to a good worthy creature that is only a little mistaken or so? Good by it, what a chimera! but come, there is some other reason than this for his going away? None that I know; except a fine flim-flam letter that he received from the French Ambassador, saying, he expected to have the exquisite joy of beholding him at Edinburgh to-morrow. Ah, now I understand it. But when does he come back? Why he either comes back with Mons. De Guigne, or after he has done the last duties to him at Edinburgh. So you see, if you do not come, you will have brought me in for the lesser excommunication; for you will have been the cause of my deceiving my husband, and telling him a lie: although, for
that matter, neither you nor I lukelly have any thing to fear now-a-days, for either the greater or lesser excommunication: For, as you justly observe, line 12, first page of your letter, how are things changed! Old prejudices are done away, but behold new ones arise; and the last errors I am afraid are worse than the first: but, for my own part, I would willingly have stood before the kirk-session, to have shown any respect and regard to Monsr. L'Ambassador, who is a man we all esteem in this house, and from whom we have always received every possible civility, of which we retain a grateful sense. But we perceive he is travelling in his public capacity, and unless Sir Gilbert had had it in his power to go to town to wait of him, and give him welcome from us to our house, should it suit his conveniency to rest here upon his road to England, we think any other invitation would appear improper and abrupt; and as it so happens he cannot possibly accomplish this at present, for we are to have company with us most part of this week; and after that we go to our visits, which will take us most of next week; and then we shall be chez nous till our journey southwards, when we will require from you to restore us your good society, else we shall verily believe your flying visit was all a hum, and we won't be Humed so!
Bless me, I thought I was writing to my poor good Harry. How does he do, sanctified soul? I have really hopes of you, now that he and you are come hand to fist at a conversation; as he tells me you are very often with him, and he really thinks you are a saint in your nature; and I say that is a great pity, for tho' I cannot deny the fact, I deplore it for the consequences of it; but give my best wishes to him, and tell him I long to hear of better prospects for him. I am really confounded, when I think what a parcel of nonsense I have wrote you: But learn to prefer the truth and sincerity of a Scots wife, to the pernicious flattery of Les Dames Françaises, of which you have had enough in your days; and so it is fit you should be made to hear on the other side of the head. And so wishing you all health and happiness, and clearness of understanding, I remain, sir, your well wisher, friend, and obedient servant,
Ag. Elliot Murray.
P.S. I don't think the quiet Euthanasia of England will happen in the year 1773, the mayoralty of J. W. Esq.
Hume had been for many years very corpulent. In a letter to Sir Harry Erskine, in 1756, he complains of this tendency to obesity. He occasionally alludes to his partiality for plain food, and to his being, to use his own sufficiently distinct expression, "a glutton, not an epicure."[449:1] We have found him telling Sir Gilbert Elliot, that for beef and cabbage, which he calls "a charming dish," and old mutton, no one could excel him; and that the Duc de Nivernois would become apprentice to his "lass," to learn how she made sheeps'-head broth. The zest with which he returned to the simple food of his native country, after the diplomatic feasts of Paris, seems to have been characteristic of all his habits. Burke is said to have affirmed, that, "in manners he was an easy unaffected man, previous to going to Paris as secretary to Lord Hertford; but that the adulation and caresses of the female wits of that capital had been too powerful even for a philosopher, and the result was, he returned a literary coxcomb." But the saying is not
in harmony with the characteristics noted by others; and it is not quite clear that it was ever uttered by Burke.[450:1] All who speak as having been familiarly acquainted with him, concur in describing his manners as kind, simple, and polite. He had, as no one who has read his correspondence can fail to see, a good heart, ever ready to do benevolent acts where occasions for their performance came under his notice; and his exterior appearance and manner corresponded with this part of his character. One occasionally meets with venerable persons who remember having been dandled on Hume's knee, and the number of these reminiscences indicates that he was fond of children.[450:2]
The broad Scottish pronunciation, in which, by all accounts, he indulged, was a rather singular habit in one who desired to throw off all marks of provincialism. Yet we are told that in this rude Doric garb he clothed a very pure English colloquial style. We must take this statement with allowances: He never probably in his most finished writings completely divested his style of Scotticisms; and the English he spoke must have been pure only in comparison with the language of his fellow countrymen. But it may be remarked, that provincial broadness of pronunciation in Scotland is far from being incompatible with a very pure and unprovincial style of language. It has often been observed, that in those parts of the country where the speech of the uneducated is most peculiar, English, when spoken at all, is found in
greatest purity. Thus, an inhabitant of the border districts makes his southern tones, though hardly distinguishable from those of his English neighbours, the vehicle of intense Scotticisms; while beyond the Grampians, the deep broad Teutonic pronunciation sometimes gives voice to uncontaminated English, as established by literary and colloquial rules.