The Civil War had broken out in 1642, and the royalist cause began to decline from the time of the defeat at Marston Moor, in the middle of 1644. Then commenced an exodus of the king’s friends. Newcastle himself, who was a cousin of Hobbes’s late patron and to whom he dedicated the “little treatise” of 1640, found his way to Paris, and was followed by a stream of fugitives, many of whom were known to Hobbes. The sight of these exiles made the political interest once more predominant in Hobbes, and before long the revived feeling issued in the formation of a new and important design. It first showed itself in the publication of the De cive, of which the fame, but only the fame, had extended beyond the inner circle of friends and critics who had copies of the original impression. Hobbes now entrusted it, early in 1646, to his admirer, the Frenchman Samuel de Sorbière, by whom it was seen through the Elzevir press at Amsterdam in 1647—having previously inserted a number of notes in reply to objections, and also a striking preface, in the course of which he explained its relation to the other parts of the system not yet forthcoming, and the (political) occasion of its having been composed and being now published before them.[6] So hopeless, meanwhile, was he growing of being able to return home that, later on in the year, he was on the point of leaving Paris to take up his abode in the south with a French friend,[7] when he was engaged “by the month” as mathematical instructor to the young prince of Wales, who had come over from Jersey about the month of July. This Leviathan. engagement lasted nominally from 1646 to 1648 when Charles went to Holland. Thus thrown more than ever into the company of the exiled royalists, it was then, if not earlier, that he conceived his new design of bringing all his powers of thought and expression to bear upon the production of an English book that should set forth his whole theory of civil government in relation to the political crisis resulting from the war. The De cive, presently to be published, was written in Latin for the learned, and gave the political theory without its foundation in human nature. The unpublished treatise of 1640 contained all or nearly all that he had to tell concerning human nature, but was written before the terrible events of the last years had disclosed how men might still be urged by their anti-social passions back into the abyss of anarchy. There was need of an exposition at once comprehensive, incisive and popular. The State, it now seemed to Hobbes, might be regarded as a great artificial man or monster (Leviathan), composed of men, with a life that might be traced from its generation through human reason under pressure of human needs to its dissolution through civil strife proceeding from human passions. This, we may suppose, was the presiding conception from the first, but the design may have been variously modified in the three or four years of its execution. Before the end, in 1650-1651, it is plain that he wrote in direct reference to the greatly changed aspect of affairs in England. The king being dead, and the royalist cause appearing to be hopelessly lost, he did not scruple, in closing the work with a general “Review and Conclusion,” to raise the question of the subject’s right to change allegiance when a former sovereign’s power to protect was irrecoverably gone. Also he took advantage of the rule of the Commonwealth to indulge much more freely than he might have otherwise dared in rationalistic criticism of religious doctrines; while, amid the turmoil of sects, he could the more forcibly urge that the preservation of social order, when again firmly restored, must depend on the assumption by the civil power of the right to wield all sanctions, supernatural as well as natural, against the pretensions of any clergy, Catholic, Anglican or Presbyterian, to the exercise of an imperium in imperio.
We know the Leviathan only as it finally emerged from Hobbes’s pen. During the years of its composition he remained in or near Paris, at first in attendance on his royal pupil, with whom he became a great favourite. In 1647 Hobbes was overtaken by a serious illness which disabled him for six months. Mersenne begged him not to die outside the Roman Catholic Church, but Hobbes said that he had already considered the matter sufficiently and afterwards took the sacrament according to the rites of the Church of England. On recovering from this illness, which nearly proved fatal, he resumed his literary task, and carried it steadily forward to completion by the year 1650, having also within the same time translated into English, with characteristic force of expression, his Latin treatise. Otherwise the only thing known (from one or two letters) of his life in those years is that from the year 1648 he had begun to think of returning home; he was then sixty and might well be weary of exile. When 1650 came, as if to prepare the way for the reception of his magnum opus, he allowed the publication of his earliest treatise, divided into two separate small volumes (Human Nature, or the Fundamental Elements of Policy, E.W. iv. 1-76, and De Corpore Politico, or the Elements of Law, Moral and Politic, pp. 77-228).[8] In 1651[9] he published his translation of the De Cive under the title of Philosophical Rudiments concerning Government and Society (E.W. ii.). Meanwhile the printing of the greater work was proceeding, and finally it appeared about the middle of the same year, 1651, under the title of Leviathan, or the Matter, Form and Power of a Commonwealth, Ecclesiastical and Civil (E.W. iii.), with a quaint frontispiece in which, from behind hills overlooking a fair landscape of town and country, there towered the body (above the waist) of a crowned giant, made up of tiny figures of human beings and bearing sword and crozier in the two hands. It appeared, and soon its author was more lauded and decried than any other thinker of his time; but the first effect of its publication was to sever his connexion with the exiled royalist party, and to throw him for protection on the revolutionary Government. No sooner did copies of the book reach Paris than he found himself shunned by his former associates, and though he was himself so little conscious of disloyalty that he was forward to present a manuscript copy “engrossed in vellum in a marvellous fair hand”[10] to the young king of the Scots (who, after the defeat at Worcester, escaped to Paris about the end of October), he was denied the royal presence when he sought it shortly afterwards. Straightway, then, he saw himself exposed to a double peril. The exiles had among them desperadoes who could slay; and, besides exciting the enmity of the Anglican clergy about the king, who bitterly resented the secularist spirit of his book, he had compromised himself with the French authorities by his elaborate attack on the papal system. In the circumstances, no resource was left him but secret flight. Travelling with what speed he could in the depths of a severe winter and under the effects of a recent (second) illness, he managed to reach London, where, sending in his submission to the council of state, he was allowed to subside into private life.
Though Hobbes came back, after his eleven years’ absence, without having as yet publicly proved his title to rank with the natural philosophers of the age, he was sufficiently conscious of what he had been able to achieve in Leviathan; and it was Return to London. in no humble mood that he now, at the age of sixty-four, turned to complete the fundamental treatise of his philosophical system. Neither those whom his masterpiece soon roused to enthusiasm, nor those whom it moved to indignation, were likely to be indifferent to anything he should now write, whether it lay near to or far from the region of practice. Taking up his abode in Fetter Lane, London, on his return, and continuing to reside there for the sake of intellectual society, even after renewing his old ties with the earl of Devonshire, who lived in the country till the Restoration,[11] he worked so steadily as to be printing the De corpore in the year 1654. Circumstances (of which more presently), however, kept the book back till the following year, and meanwhile the readers of Leviathan had a different excitement. In 1654 a small treatise, “Of Liberty and Necessity” (E.W. iv. 229-278), Controversy with Bramhall. issued from the press, claiming to be an answer to a discourse on the same subject by Bishop Bramhall of Londonderry (afterwards archbishop of Armagh, d. 1663), addressed by Hobbes to the marquis of Newcastle.[12] It had grown out of an oral discussion between Hobbes and Bramhall in the marquis’s presence at Paris in 1646. Bramhall, a strong Arminian, had afterwards written down his views and sent them to Newcastle to be answered in this form by Hobbes. Hobbes duly replied, but not for publication, because he thought the subject a delicate one. But it happened that Hobbes had allowed a French acquaintance to have a private translation of his reply made by a young Englishman, who secretly took a copy of the original for himself; and now it was this unnamed purloiner who, in 1654, when Hobbes had become famous and feared, gave it to the world of his own motion, with an extravagantly laudatory epistle to the reader in its front. Upon Hobbes himself the publication came as a surprise, but, after his plain speaking in Leviathan, there was nothing in the piece that he need scruple to have made known, and he seems to have condoned the act. On the other hand, Bramhall, supposing Hobbes privy to the publication, resented the manner of it, especially as no mention was made of his rejoinder. Accordingly, in 1655, he printed everything that had passed between them (under the title of A Defence of the True Liberty of Human Actions from Antecedent or Extrinsic Necessity), with loud complaint against the treatment he had received, and the promise added that, in default of others, he himself would stand forward to expose the deadly principles of Leviathan. About this time Hobbes had begun to be hard pressed by other foes, and, being never more sure of himself than upon the question of the will, he appears to have welcomed the opportunity thus given him of showing his strength. By 1656 he was ready with his Questions concerning Liberty, Necessity and Chance (E.W. v.), in which he replied with astonishing force to the bishop’s rejoinder point by point, besides explaining the occasion and circumstances of the whole debate, and reproducing (as Bramhall had done) all the pieces from the beginning. As perhaps the first clear exposition and defence of the psychological doctrine of determinism, Hobbes’s own two pieces must ever retain a classical importance in the history of the free-will controversy; while Bramhall’s are still worth study as specimens of scholastic fence. The bishop, it should be added, returned to the charge in 1658 with ponderous Castigations of Mr Hobbes’s Animadversions, and also made good his previous threat in a bulky appendix entitled The Catching of Leviathan the Great Whale. Hobbes never took any notice of the Castigations, but ten years later replied to the charges of atheism, &c., made in the non-political part of the appendix, of which he says he then heard for the first time (E.W. iv. 279-384). This Answer was first published after Hobbes’s death.[13]
We may now follow out the more troublesome conflict, or rather series of conflicts, in which Hobbes became entangled from the time of publishing his De corpore in 1655, and which checkered all his remaining years. In Leviathan he had Controversy with Wallis and Ward. vehemently assailed the system of the universities, as originally founded for the support of the papal against the civil authority, and as still working social mischief by adherence to the old learning. The attack was duly noted at Oxford, where under the Commonwealth a new spirit of scientific activity had begun to stir. In 1654 Seth Ward (1617-1689), the Savilian professor of astronomy, replying in his Vindiciae academiarum to some other assaults (especially against John Webster’s Examen of Academies) on the academic system, retorted upon Hobbes that, so far from the universities being now what he had known them in his youth, he would find his geometrical pieces, when they appeared, better understood there than he should like. This was said in reference to the boasts in which Hobbes seems to have been freely indulging of having squared the circle and accomplished other such feats; and, when a year later the De corpore (L.W. i.) finally appeared, it was seen how the thrust had gone home. In the chapter (xx.) of that work where Hobbes dealt with the famous problem whose solution he thought he had found, there were left expressions against Vindex (Ward) at a time when the solutions still seemed to him good; but the solutions themselves, as printed, were allowed to be all in different ways halting, as he naively confessed he had discovered only when he had been driven by the insults of malevolent men to examine them more closely with the help of his friends. A strange conclusion this, and reached by a path not less strange, as was now to be disclosed by a relentless hand. Ward’s colleague, the more famous John Wallis (q.v.), Savilian professor of geometry from 1649, had been privy to the challenge thrown out in 1654, and it was arranged that they should critically dispose of the De corpore between them. Ward was to occupy himself with the philosophical and physical sections, which he did in leisurely fashion, bringing out his criticism in the course of next year (In Th. Hobbii philosophiam exercitatio epistolica). Wallis was to confine himself to the mathematical chapters, and set to work at once with characteristic energy. Obtaining an unbound copy of the De corpore, he saw by the mutilated appearance of the sheets that Hobbes had repeatedly altered his demonstrations before he issued them at last in their actual form, grotesque as it was, rather than delay the book longer. Obtaining also a copy of the work as it had been printed before Hobbes had any doubt of the validity of his solutions, Wallis was able to track his whole course from the time of Ward’s provocation—his passage from exultation to doubt, from doubt to confessed impotence, yet still without abandoning the old assumption of confident strength; and all his turnings and windings were now laid bare in one of the most trenchant pieces of controversial writing ever penned. Wallis’s Elenchus geometriae Hobbianae, published in 1655 about three months after the De corpore, contained also an elaborate criticism of Hobbes’s whole attempt to relay the foundations of mathematical science in its place within the general body of reasoned knowledge—a criticism which, if it failed to allow for the merit of the conception, exposed only too effectually the utter inadequacy of the result. Taking up mathematics when not only his mind was already formed but his thoughts were crystallizing into a philosophical system, Hobbes had, in fact, never put himself to school and sought to work up gradually to the best knowledge of the time, but had been more anxious from the first to become himself an innovator with whatever insufficient means. The consequence was that, when not spending himself in vain attempts to solve the impossible problems that have always waylaid the fancy of self-sufficient beginners, he took an interest only in the elements of geometry, and never had any notion of the full scope of mathematical science, undergoing as it then was (and not least at the hands of Wallis) the extraordinary development which made it before the end of the century the potent instrument of physical discovery which it became in the hands of Newton. He was even unable, in dealing with the elementary conceptions of geometry, to work out with any consistency the few original thoughts he had, and thus became the easy sport of Wallis. At his advanced age, however, and with the sense he had of his powers, he was not likely to be brought to a better mind by so insulting an opponent. He did indeed, before allowing an English translation of the De corpore (E.W. i.) to appear in 1656, take care to remove some of the worst mistakes exposed by Wallis, and, while leaving out all the references to Vindex, now profess to make, in altered form, a series of mere “attempts” at quadrature; but he was far from yielding the ground to the enemy. With the translation,[14] in the spring of 1656, he had ready Six Lessons to the Professors of Mathematics, one of Geometry, the other of Astronomy, in the University of Oxford (E.W. vii. 181-356), in which, after reasserting his view of the principles of geometry in opposition to Euclid’s, he proceeded to repel Wallis’s objections with no lack of dialectical skill, and with an unreserve equal to Wallis’s own. He did not scruple, in the ardour of conflict, even to maintain positions that he had resigned in the translation, and he was not afraid to assume the offensive by a counter criticism of three of Wallis’s works then published. When he had thus disposed of the “Paralogisms” of his more formidable antagonist in the first five lessons, he ended with a lesson on “Manners” to the two professors together, and set himself gravely at the close to show that he too could be abusive. In this particular part of his task, it must be allowed, he succeeded very well; his criticism of Wallis’s works, especially the great treatise Arithmetica infinitorum (1655), only showed how little able he was to enter into the meaning of the modern analysis. Wallis, on his side, was not less ready to keep up the game in English than he had been to begin it in Latin. Swift as before to strike, in three months’ time he had deftly turned his own word against the would-be master by administering Due Correction for Mr Hobbes, or School Discipline for not saying his Lessons right, in a piece that differed from the Elenchus only in being more biting and unrestrained. Having an easy task in defending himself against Hobbes’s trivial criticism, he seized the opportunity given him by the English translation of the De corpore to track Hobbes again step by step over the whole course, and now to confront him with his incredible inconsistencies multiplied by every new utterance. But it was no longer a fight over mathematical questions only. Wallis having been betrayed originally by his fatal cleverness into the pettiest carping at words, Hobbes had retorted in kind, and then it became a high duty in the other to defend his Latin with great parade of learning and give fresh provocation. One of Wallis’s rough sallies in this kind suggested to Hobbes the title of the next rejoinder with which, in 1657, he sought to close the unseemly wrangle. Arguing in the Lessons that a mathematical point must have quantity, though this were not reckoned, he had explained the Greek word στιγμή, used for a point, to mean a visible mark made with a hot iron; whereupon he was charged by Wallis with gross ignorance for confounding στιγμή and στιγμα. Hence the title of his new piece: Στιγμαὶ ἀγεωμετρίας, ἀγροικίας, ἀντιπολιτείας, ἀμαθείας, or Marks of the Absurd Geometry, Rural Language, Scottish Church Politics, and Barbarisms of John Wallis, Professor of Geometry and Doctor of Divinity (E.W. vii. 357-400). He now attacked more in detail but not more happily than before Wallis’s great work, while hardly attempting any further defence of his own positions; also he repelled with some force and dignity the insults that had been heaped upon him, and fought the verbal points, but could not leave the field without making political insinuations against his adversary, quite irrelevant in themselves and only noteworthy as evidence of his own resignation to Cromwell’s rule. The thrusts were easily and nimbly parried by Wallis in a reply (Hobbiani puncti dispunctio, 1657) occupied mainly with the verbal questions. Irritating as it was, it did not avail to shake Hobbes’s determination to remain silent; and thus at last there was peace for a time.
Before the strife flamed up again, Hobbes had published, in 1658, the outstanding section of his philosophical system, and thus completed, after a fashion, the scheme he had planned more than twenty years before. So far as the treatise De homine (L.W. ii. 11-32) was concerned, the completion was more in name than in fact. It consisted for the most part of an elaborate theory of vision which, though very creditable to Hobbes’s scientific insight, was out of place, or at least out of proportion, in a philosophical consideration of human nature generally. The remainder of the treatise, dealing cursorily with some of the topics more fully treated in the Human Nature and the Leviathan, has all the appearance of having been tagged in haste to the optical chapters (composed years before)[15] as a makeshift for the proper transition required in the system from questions of Body Natural to questions of Body Politic. Hobbes had in fact spent himself in his earlier constructive efforts, and at the age of seventy, having nothing to add to his doctrine of Man as it was already in one form or another before the world, was content with anything that might stand for the fulfilment of his philosophical purpose. But he had still in him more than twenty years of vigorous vitality, and, not conscious to himself of any shortcoming, looked forward, now his hands were free, to doing battle for his doctrines. Rather than remain quiet, on finding no notice taken of his latest production, he would himself force on a new conflict with the enemy. Wallis having meanwhile published other works and especially a comprehensive treatise on the general principles of calculus (Mathesis universalis, 1657), he might take this occasion of exposing afresh the new-fangled methods of mathematical analysis and reasserting his own earlier positions. Accordingly, by the spring of 1660, he had managed to put his criticism and assertions into five dialogues under the title Examinatio et emendatio mathematicae hodiernae qualis explicatur in libris Johannis Wallisii, with a sixth dialogue so called, consisting almost entirely of seventy or more propositions on the circle and cycloid.[16] Wallis, however, would not take the bait. Hobbes then tried another tack. Next year, having solved, as he thought, another ancient crux, the duplication of the cube, he had his solution brought out anonymously at Paris in French, so as to put Wallis and other critics off the scent and extort a judgment that might be withheld from a work of his. The artifice was successful, and no sooner had Wallis publicly refuted the solution than Hobbes claimed the credit of it, and went more wonderfully than ever astray in its defence. He presently republished it (in modified form), with his remarks, at the end of a new Latin dialogue which he had meanwhile written in defence of another part of his philosophical doctrine. This was the Dialogus physicus, sive De natura aëris (L.W. iv. 233-296), fulminated in 1661 against Boyle and other friends of Wallis who, as he fancied, under the influence of that malevolent spirit, were now in London, after the Restoration, forming themselves into a society (incorporated as the Royal Society in 1662) for experimental research, to the exclusion of himself personally, and in direct contravention of the method of physical inquiry enjoined in the De corpore.[17] All the laborious manipulation recorded in Boyle’s New Experiments touching the Spring of the Air (1660), which Hobbes chose, without the least warrant, to take as the manifesto of the new “academicians,” seemed to him only to confirm the conclusions he had reasoned out years before from speculative principles, and he warned them that if they were not content to begin where he had left off their work would come to nought. To as much of this diatribe as concerned himself Boyle quickly replied with force and dignity, but it was from Hobbes’s old enemy that retribution came, in the scathing satire Hobbius heauton-timorumenos (1662). Wallis, who had deftly steered his course amid all the political changes of the previous years, managing ever to be on the side of the ruling power, was now apparently stung to fury by a wanton allusion in Hobbes’s latest dialogue to a passage of his former life (his deciphering for the parliament the king’s papers taken at Naseby), whereof he had once boasted but after the Restoration could not speak or hear too little. The revenge he took was crushing. Professing to be roused by the attack on his friend Boyle, when he had scorned to lift a finger in defence of himself against the earlier dialogues, he tore them all to shreds with an art of which no general description can give an idea. He got, however, upon more dangerous ground when, passing wholly by the political insinuation against himself, he roundly charged Hobbes with having written Leviathan in support of Oliver’s title, and deserted his royal master in distress. Hobbes seems to have been fairly bewildered by the rush and whirl of sarcasm with which Wallis drove him anew from every mathematical position he had ever taken up, and did not venture forth into the field of scientific controversy again for some years, when he had once followed up the physical dialogue of 1661 by seven shorter ones, with the inevitable appendix, entitled Problemata physica, una cum magnitudine circuli (L.W. iv. 297-384), in 1662.[18] But all the more eagerly did he take advantage of Wallis’s loose calumny to strike where he felt himself safe. His answer to the personal charges took the form of a letter about himself in the third person addressed to Wallis in 1662, under the title of Considerations upon the Reputation, Loyalty, Manners and Religion of Thomas Hobbes (E.W. iv. 409-440). In this piece, which is of great biographical value, he told his own and Wallis’s “little stories during the time of the late rebellion” with such effect that Wallis, like a wise man, attempted no further reply. Thus ended the second bout.
After a time Hobbes took heart again and began a third period of controversial activity, which did not end, on his side, till his ninetieth year. Little need be added to the simple catalogue of the untiring old man’s labours in this last stage of his life. The first piece, published in 1666, De principiis et ratiocinatione geometrarum (L.W. iv. 385-484), was designed, as the sub-title declared, to lower the pride of geometrical professors by showing that there was no less uncertainty and error in their works than in those of physical or ethical writers. Wallis replied shortly in the Philosophical Transactions (August 1666). Three years later he brought his three great achievements together in compendious form, Quadratura circuli, Cubatio sphaerae, Duplicatio cubi, and as soon as they were once more refuted by Wallis, reprinted them with an answer to the objections, in compliment to the grand-duke of Tuscany, who paid him attentions on a visit to England in 1669 (L.W. iv. 485-522). Wallis, who had promised to leave him alone henceforward, refuted him again before the year was out. In 1671 he worked up his propositions over again in Rosetum geometricum (L.W. v. 1-50), as a fragrant offering to the geometrical reader, appending a criticism (Censura brevis, pp. 50-88) on the first part of Wallis’s treatise De motu, published in 1669; also he sent Three Papers to the Royal Society on selected points treated very briefly, and when Wallis, still not weary of confuting, shortly replied, published them separately with triumphant Considerations on Dr Wallis’s Answer to them (E.W. vii. 429-448). Next year (1672), having now, as he believed, established himself with the Royal Society, he proceeded to complete the discomfiture of Wallis by a public address to the Society on all the points at issue between them from the beginning, Lux Mathematica excussa collisionibus Johannis Wallisii et Thomae Hobbesii (L.W. v. 89-150), the light, as the author R. R. (Roseti Repertor) added, being here “increased by many very brilliant rays.” Wallis replied in the Transactions, and then finally held his hand. Hobbes’s energy was not yet exhausted. In 1674, at the age of eighty-six, he published his Principia et problemata aliquot geometrica, ante desperata nunc breviter explicata et demonstrata (L.W. v. 150-214), containing in the chapters dealing with questions of principle not a few striking observations, which ought not to be overlooked in the study of his philosophy. His last piece of all, Decameron physiologicum (E.W. vii. 69-180), in 1678, was a new set of dialogues on physical questions, most of which he had treated in a similar fashion before; but now, in dealing with gravitation, he was able to fire a parting shot at Wallis; and one more demonstration of the equality of a straight line to the arc of a circle, thrown in at the end, appropriately closed the strangest warfare in which perverse thinker ever engaged.[19]
We must now turn back to trace the fortunes of Hobbes and his other doings in the last twenty years of his life. All these controversial writings on mathematics and physics represent but one half of his activity after the age of Later Years. seventy; though, as regards the other half, it is not possible, for a reason that will be seen, to say as definitely in what order the works belonging to the period were produced. From the time of the Restoration he acquired a new prominence in the public eye. No year had passed since the appearance of Leviathan without some indignant protest against the influence which its trenchant doctrine was calculated to produce upon minds longing above everything for civil repose; but after the Restoration “Hobbism” became a fashionable creed, which it was the duty of every lover of true morality and religion to denounce. Two or three days after Charles’s arrival in London, Hobbes drew in the street the notice of his former pupil, and was at once received into favour. The young king, if he had ever himself resented the apparent disloyalty of the “Conclusion” of Leviathan, had not retained the feeling long, and could appreciate the principles of the great book when the application of them happened, as now, to be turned in his own favour. He had, besides, a relish for Hobbes’s wit (as he used to say, “Here comes the bear to be baited”), and did not like the old man the less because his presence at court scandalized the bishops or the prim virtue of Chancellor Hyde. He even went the length of bestowing on Hobbes (but not always paying) a pension of £100, and had his portrait hung up in the royal closet. These marks of favour, naturally, did not lessen Hobbes’s self-esteem, and perhaps they explain, in his later writings, a certain slavishness toward the regal authority, which is wholly absent from his rational demonstration of absolutism in the earlier works. At all events Hobbes was satisfied with the rule of a king who had appreciated the author of Leviathan, and protected him when, after a time, protection in a very real sense became necessary. His eagerness to defend himself against Wallis’s imputation of disloyalty, and his apologetic dedication of the Problemata physica to the king, are evidence of the hostility with which he was being pressed as early as 1662; but it was not till 1666 that he felt himself seriously in danger. In that year the Great Fire of London, following on the Great Plague, roused the superstitious fears of the people, and the House of Commons embodied the general feeling in a bill against atheism and profaneness. On the 17th of October it was ordered that the committee to which the bill was referred “should be empowered to receive information touching such books as tend to atheism, blasphemy and profaneness, or against the essence and attributes of God, and in particular the book published in the name of one White,[20] and the book of Mr Hobbes called the Leviathan, and to report the matter with their opinion to the House.” Hobbes, then verging upon eighty, was terrified at the prospect of being treated as a heretic, and proceeded to burn such of his papers as he thought might compromise him. At the same time he set himself, with a very characteristic determination, to inquire into the actual state of the law of heresy. The results of his investigation were first announced in three short Dialogues added (in place of the old “Review and Conclusion,” for which the day had passed) as an Appendix to his Latin translation of Leviathan (L.W. iii.), included with the general collection of his works published at Amsterdam in 1668. In this appendix, as also in the posthumous tract, published in 1680, An Historical Narration concerning Heresy and the Punishment thereof (E.W. iv. 385-408), he aimed at showing that, since the High Court of Commission had been put down, there remained no court of heresy at all to which he was amenable, and that even when it stood nothing was to be declared heresy but what was at variance with the Nicene Creed, as he maintained the doctrine of Leviathan was not.
The only consequence that came of the parliamentary scare was that Hobbes could never afterwards get permission to print anything on subjects relating to human conduct. The collected edition of his Latin works (in two quarto volumes) appeared at Amsterdam in 1668, because he could not obtain the censor’s licence for its publication at London, Oxford or Cambridge. Other writings which he had finished, or on which he must have been engaged about this time, were not made public till after his death—the king apparently having made it the price of his protection that no fresh provocation should be offered to the popular sentiment. The most important of the works composed towards 1670, and thus kept back, is the extremely spirited dialogue to which he gave the title Behemoth: the History of the Causes of the Civil Wars of England and of the Counsels and Artifices by which they were carried on from the year 1640 to the year 1660.[21] To the same period probably belongs the unfinished Dialogue between a Philosopher and a Student of the Common Laws of England (E.W. vi. 1-160), a trenchant criticism of the constitutional theory of English government as upheld by Coke. Aubrey takes credit for having tried to induce Hobbes to write upon the subject in 1664 by presenting him with a copy of Bacon’s Elements of the Laws of England, and though the attempt was then unsuccessful, Hobbes later on took to studying the statute-book, with Coke upon Littleton. One other posthumous production also (besides the tract on Heresy before mentioned) may be referred to this, if not, as Aubrey suggests, an earlier time—the two thousand and odd elegiac verses in which he gave his view of ecclesiastical encroachment on the civil power; the quaint verses, disposed in his now favourite dialogue-form, were first published, nine years after his death, under the title Historia ecclesiastica (L.W. v. 341-408), with a preface by Thomas Rymer.
For some time Hobbes was not even allowed to utter a word of protest, whatever might be the occasion that his enemies took to triumph over him. In 1669 an unworthy follower—Daniel Scargil by name, a fellow of Corpus Christi College, Cambridge—had to recant publicly and confess that his evil life had been the result of Hobbist doctrines. In 1674 John Fell, the dean of Christ Church, who bore the charges of the Latin translation of Anthony Wood’s History and Antiquities of the University of Oxford (1670), struck out all the complimentary epithets in the account of his life, and substituted very different ones; but this time the king did suffer him to defend himself by publishing a dignified letter (Vit. Auct. pp. xlvii.-l.), to which Fell replied by adding to the translation when it appeared a note full of the grossest insults. And, amid all his troubles, Hobbes was not without his consolations. No Englishman of that day stood in the same repute abroad, and foreigners, noble or learned, who came to England, never forgot to pay their respects to the old man, whose vigour and freshness of intellect no progress of the years seemed able to quench. Among these was the grand-duke of Tuscany (Ferdinand II.), who took away some works and a portrait to adorn the Medicean library.
His pastimes in the latest years were as singular as his labours. The autobiography in Latin verse, with its playful humour, occasional pathos and sublime self-complacency, was thrown off at the age of eighty-four. At eighty-five, in the year 1673, he sent forth a translation of four books of the Odyssey (ix.-xii.) in rugged but not seldom happily turned English rhymes; and, when he found this Voyage of Ulysses eagerly received, he had ready by 1675 a complete translation of both Iliad and Odyssey (E.W. x.), prefaced by a lively dissertation “Concerning the Virtues of an Heroic Poem,” showing his unabated interest in questions of literary style. After 1675, he passed his time at his patron’s seats in Derbyshire, occupied to the last with intellectual work in the early morning and in the afternoon hours, which it had long been his habit to devote to thinking and to writing. Even as late as August 1679 he was promising his publisher “somewhat to print in English.” The end came very soon afterwards. A suppression of urine in October, in spite of which he insisted upon being conveyed with the family from Chatsworth to Hardwick Hall towards the end of November, was followed by a paralytic stroke, under which he sank on the 4th of December, in his ninety-second year. He lies buried in the neighbouring church of Ault Hucknall.