In 1772, Macpherson published a quarto volume, called "An Introduction to the History of Great Britain and Ireland," of which Pinkerton, indignant at the Celtic spirit it displayed, said, "The empty vanity, shallow reading, vague assertion, and etymological nonsense, in this production, are truly risible." In a letter to Colonel Dow,[461:3] we find Hume criticising this book in a rather less emphatic manner.
"My compliments to Ossian. He has given us a work last winter, which contains a great deal of genius and good writing; but I cannot assent to his system. I must still adhere to the common opinion regarding our origin, or rather your origin; for we are all plainly Danes or Saxons in the low countries. But these subjects I reserve to a discussion over an evening fire on your return. I charge you not to think of settling in London, till you have first seen our New Town, which exceeds any thing you have seen in any part of the world."[462:1]
With the following letter, many readers may perhaps be familiar, but to those who have not already seen it, the curious historical incident it details, will give it much interest.
Hume to Sir John Pringle.
St. Andrew's Square, Edinburgh,
Feb. 10, 1773.
My dear Sir,—That the present Pretender was in London, in the year 1753, I know with the greatest certainty; because I had it from Lord Marischal, who said, it consisted with his certain knowledge. Two or three days after his lordship gave me this information, he told me, that the evening before, he had learned several curious particulars from a lady, (who I imagined to be Lady Primrose,) though my lord refused to name her. The Pretender came to her house in the evening, without giving her any preparatory information; and entered the room when she had a pretty large company with her, and was herself playing at cards. He was announced by the servant under another name. She thought the cards would have dropped from her hands on seeing him. But she had presence enough of mind, to call him by the name he assumed; to ask him when he came to England, and how long he intended to stay there. After he and all the company went away, the servants
remarked how wonderfully like the strange gentleman was to the prince's picture, which hung on the chimney-piece, in the very room in which he entered. My lord added, (I think from the authority of the same lady,) that he used so little precaution, that he went abroad openly in day-light, in his own dress; only laying aside his blue riband and star; walked once through St. James's, and took a turn in the Mall.
About five years ago, I told this story to Lord Holderness, who was secretary of state in the year 1753; and I added, that I supposed this piece of intelligence had at that time escaped his lordship. "By no means," said he, "and who do you think first told it me? it was the king himself, who subjoined, 'And what do you think, my lord, I should do with him?'" Lord Holderness owned that he was puzzled how to reply; for if he declared his real sentiments, they might savour of indifference to the royal family. The king perceived his embarrassment, and extricated him from it, by adding, "My lord, I shall just do nothing at all; and when he is tired of England, he will go abroad again." I think this story, for the honour of the late king, ought to be more generally known.
But what will surprise you more, Lord Marischal, a few days after the coronation of the present king, told me, that he believed the young Pretender was at that time in London; or at least had been so very lately, and had come over to see the show of the coronation, and had actually seen it. I asked my lord the reason for this strange fact. "Why," says he, "a gentleman told me so that saw him there; and that he even spoke to him, and whispered in his ears these words: 'Your royal highness is the last of all mortals whom I should expect to see here.'—'It was curiosity that led me,' said the other; 'but I assure you,' added he, 'that the person who is the object of all this pomp and magnificence is the man I envy the least.'" You see this story is so near traced from the fountain head, as to wear a great face of probability. Query, What if the Pretender had taken up Dymock's gauntlet? I find that the Pretender's visit in England, in the year 1753, was known to all the Jacobites; and some of them have assured me, that he took the
opportunity of formally renouncing the Roman Catholic religion, under his own name of Charles Stuart, in the new church in the Strand; and that this is the reason of the bad treatment he met with at the court of Rome. I own that I am a sceptic with regard to the last particulars.