"That lady, as well as all the company, as well as every body of common sense here, shows her entire conviction of that imposture; and there was present a gentleman, an old friend of yours, a person of very good understanding and of undoubted honour, who laid open to us a scene of such deliberate dishonesty on the part of her grace of Douglas and her partisans, as was somewhat new and surprising. I suppose it is all known to poor Andrew,[203:1] whom I heartily love and pity. 'Tis certain, that the imposture is as well known to her grace and her friends, as to any body; and Hay, the Pretender's old secretary, the only man of common honesty among them, confessed to this gentleman, that he has frequently been shocked with their practices, and has run away from them to keep
out of the way of such infamy; though he had afterwards the weakness to yield to their solicitations. Carnegy knows the roguery as well as the rest; though I did not hear any thing of his scruples. Lord Beauchamp and Dr. Trail, our chaplain, passed four months last summer at Rheims, where this affair was much the subject of conversation. Except one curate, they did not meet with a person, that was not convinced of the imposture. Mons. de Puysieuls,[204:1] whose country seat is in the neighbourhood, told me the same thing. Can any thing be more scandalous and more extraordinary than Frank Garden's behaviour?[204:2] Can any thing be more scandalous and more ordinary than Burnet's. I am afraid, that notwithstanding the palpable justice of your cause, it is yet uncertain whether you will prevail.
"I continue to live here in a manner amusing enough, and which gives me no time to be tired of any scene. What between public business, the company of the learned and that of the great, especially of the ladies, I find all my time filled up, and have no time to open a book, except it be some books newly published, which may be the subject of conversation. I am well enough pleased with this change of life, and a satiety of study had beforehand prepared the way for it: however, time runs off in one course of life as well as another, and all things appear so much alike, that I am afraid of falling into total Stoicism and indifference about every thing. For instance, I am every moment to be touching on the time when I am to receive my credential letters of secretary to the embassy, with a
thousand a-year of appointments. The king has promised it, all the members have promised it; Lord Hertford earnestly solicits it; the plainest common sense and justice seem to require [it]: yet have I been in this condition above six months; and I never trouble my head about the matter, and have rather laid my account that there is to be no such thing.
"Please to express my most profound respects to Mrs. Mure, and my sense of the honour she did me. If I have leisure before the carrier goes off, I shall write her, and give her some account of my adventures; but I would not show her so little mark of my attention as to write her only in a postscript. I am, dear Baron," &c.[205:1]
The correspondence with Madame de Boufflers was occasionally resumed, when Hume or she was absent from Paris. How well the philosopher could upon occasion accommodate himself to the taste of a French lady of the court, the following may suffice to show.
Hume to the Comtesse de Boufflers.
Compiegne, 6th July, 1764.
We live in a kind of solitude and retirement at Compiegne; at least I do, who, having nothing but a few general acquaintance at court, and not caring to make more, have given myself up almost entirely to study and retreat. You cannot imagine, madam, with what pleasure I return as it were to my natural element, and what satisfaction I enjoy in reading, and musing, and sauntering, amid the agreeable scenes that surround me. But yes, you can easily enough imagine it; you have yourself formed the same resolution; you are determined this summer to tie the broken thread of your studies and literary amusements. If you have been so happy as to execute your purpose, you are almost in the
same state as myself, and are at present wandering along the banks of the same beautiful river, perhaps with the same books in your hand, a Racine, I suppose, or a Virgil, and despise all other pleasure and amusement. Alas! why am I not so near you, that I could see you for half an hour a day, and confer with you on these subjects?