Page 11 of 109
1734-1739. t. 23-27.
Hume leaves Bristol for France—Paris—Miracles at the Tomb of the Abb Paris—Rheims—La Flche—Associations with the Abb Pluche and Des Cartes—Observations on French Society and Manners—Story of La Roche—Return to Britain.—Correspondence with Henry Home—Publication of the first and second volume of The Treatise of Human Nature—Character of that Work—Its Influence on mental Philosophy.
We have no account of Hume's sojourn in Bristol, except his own very brief statement, that "in a few months," he "found that scene totally unsuitable" to him.[48:1] He must have proceeded to France about the middle of the year 1734, and he thus describes in his "own life," his motives and intentions. "I went over to France, with a view of prosecuting my studies in a country retreat; and I there laid that plan of life, which I have steadily and successfully pursued. I resolved to make a very rigid frugality supply my [49]deficiency of fortune, to maintain unimpaired my independency, and to regard every object as contemptible, except the improvement of my talents in literature."
His subsequent letters show that he proceeded in the first instance to Paris, where he remained for a short time. Not long before his arrival there, some occurrences had taken place which were afterwards prominently referred to in his philosophical writings. A Jansenist, distinguished by his sanctity and the wide circle of his charities—the Abb Paris, having died, a tomb was erected over his remains in the cemetery of St. Mdard. Thither the poor, whom the good man had succoured in life, repaired to bless his memory and pray for the state of his soul. But it was discovered that this devotion was speedily rewarded; for the sick were cured, the blind saw, all manner of miracles were performed; and the evidence of their genuineness was considered so satisfactory, that the Jesuits were never able to impugn them—an instance which it might be well for every one to recall to mind who is told of phenomena out of the ordinary course of nature being authenticated by the testimony of respectable and enlightened people. At length, this series of miracles became offensive to the government—there was no saying how far the matter might proceed. It was resolved that there should be no more miracles performed at the tomb of the Abb Paris: the gates of the cemetery were closed, and the miracles necessarily came to an end. This occurred in the year 1732, just two years before Hume's visit; and it will easily be imagined that the references to these wonderful events which he would hear in conversation, suggested many trains of thought to the young philosopher. It was not long afterwards, and probably while all this [50]was very fresh in his memory, that the principal theory of his Essay on Miracles was suggested to him. In that Essay he says:
"Many of the miracles of Abb Paris were proved immediately by witnesses before the officialty or bishop's court at Paris, under the eye of Cardinal Noailles, whose character for integrity and capacity was never contested even by his enemies.
"His successor in the archbishopric was an enemy to the Jansenists, and for that reason promoted to the see by the court. Yet twenty-two rectors or curs of Paris, with infinite earnestness, press him to examine those miracles, which they assert to be known to the whole world, and indisputably certain. But he wisely forbore."
And farther on:—
"No less a man than the Duc de Chatillon, a duke and peer of France, of the highest rank and family, gives evidence of a miraculous cure, performed upon a servant of his, who had lived several years in his house with a visible and palpable infirmity.
"I shall conclude with observing, that no clergy are more celebrated for strictness of life and manners than the secular clergy of France, particularly the rectors or curs of Paris, who bear testimony to these impostures."
An illustration of his notice of what was passing around him in Paris, occurs in the following passage in his "Natural History of Religion."
"I lodged once at Paris in the same hotel with an ambassador from Tunis, who, having passed some years at London, was returning home that way. One day I observed his Moorish excellency diverting himself under the porch, with surveying the splendid equipages that drove along; when there chanced to [51]pass that way some Capucin friars, who had never seen a Turk, as he, on his part, though accustomed to the European dresses, had never seen the grotesque figure of a Capucin: and there is no expressing the mutual admiration with which they inspired each other. Had the chaplain of the embassy entered into a dispute with these Franciscans, their reciprocal surprise had been of the same nature. Thus all mankind stand staring at one another; and there is no beating it into their heads, that the turban of the African is not just as good or as bad a fashion as the cowl of the European.—'He is a very honest man,' said the Prince of Sallee, speaking of De Ruyter; 'it is a pity he were a Christian.'"
After leaving Paris, he resided at Rheims in the province of Champagne, about eighty miles north-east of the metropolis. Thence he addressed to his friend Michael Ramsay the following letter, full of observation and thought.
Hume to Michael Ramsay.
"Rheims, September 12, 1734.
"My Dear Michael,—I suppose you have received two letters from me, dated at Paris, in one of which was enclosed a letter to my Lord Stair. I am now arrived at Rheims, which is to be the place of my abode for some considerable time, and where I hope both to spend my time happily for the present, and lay up a stock for the future. It is a large town, containing about forty thousand inhabitants, and has in it about thirty families that keep coaches, though, by the appearance of the houses, you would not think there was one. I am recommended to two of the best families in town, and particularly to a man, who [52]they say is one of the most learned in France.[52:1] He is just now in the country, so that I have not yet seen him; though, if I had seen him, it would be some time [53]before I could contract a friendship with him, not being yet sufficient master of the language to support a conversation; which is a great vexation to me, but which I hope in a short time to get over. As I have little more than this to say about business, I shall use the freedom to entertain you with any idle thoughts that come into my head, hoping at least you will excuse them, if not be pleased with them, because they come from an absent friend.
"When I parted from Paris, the Chevalier Ramsay gave me as his advice, to observe carefully, and imitate as much as possible, the manners of the French. For, says he, though the English, perhaps, have more of the real politeness of the heart, yet the French certainly have the better way of expressing it. This gave me occasion to reflect upon the matter, and in my humble opinion it is just the contrary: viz., that the French have more real politeness, and the English the better method of expressing it. By real politeness I mean softness of temper, and a sincere inclination to oblige and be serviceable, which is very conspicuous in this nation, not only among the high but low; in so much that the porters and coachmen here are civil, and that, not only to gentlemen, but likewise among themselves; so that I have not yet seen one quarrel in France, though they are every where to be met with in England.[53:1] By the expressions of politeness, I [54]mean those outward deferences and ceremonies which custom has invented, to supply the defect of real politeness or kindness, that is unavoidable towards strangers, or indifferent persons, even in men of the best dispositions in the world. These ceremonies ought to be so contrived, as that, though they do not deceive nor pass for sincere, yet still they please by their appearance, and lead the mind by its own consent and knowledge into an agreeable delusion. One may err by running into either of the two extremes; that of making them too like truth or too remote from it: though we may observe, that the first is scarce possible, because whenever any expression or action becomes customary, it can deceive nobody. Thus, when the Quakers say, 'your friend,' they are as easily understood, as another, that says, 'your humble servant.' The French err in the contrary extreme, that of making their civilities too remote from truth, [55]which is a fault, though they are not designed to be believed; just as it is a transgression of rules in a dramatic poet to mix any improbabilities with his fable, though 'tis certain that, in the representation, the scenes, lights, company, and a thousand other circumstances, make it impossible he can ever deceive.
"Another fault I find in the French manners, is that, like their clothes and furniture, they are too glaring. An English fine gentleman distinguishes himself from the rest of the world, by the whole tenor of his conversation, more than by any particular part of it; so that though you are sensible he excels, you are at a loss to tell in what, and have no remarkable civilities and compliments to pitch on as a proof of his politeness. These he so smooths over, that they pass for the common actions of life, and never put you to[55:1] trouble of returning thanks for them. The English politeness is always greatest where it appears least.
"After all, it must be confessed that the little niceties of French behaviour, though troublesome and impertinent, yet serve to polish the ordinary kind of people, and prevent rudeness and brutality. For in the same manner as soldiers are found to become more courageous in learning to hold their muskets within half an inch of a place appointed; and your devotees feel their devotion increase by the observance of trivial superstitions, as sprinkling, kneeling, crossing, &c.; so men insensibly soften towards each other in the practice of these ceremonies. The mind pleases itself by the progress it makes in such trifles, and while it is so supported, makes an easy transition to something more material. And I verily believe it is for this reason that you scarce ever meet with a clown or an ill-bred man in France.
[56]"You may perhaps wonder that I, who have stayed so short time in France, and who have confessed that I am not master of their language, should decide so positively of their manner. But you will please to observe, that it is with nations as with particular men, where one trifle frequently serves more to discover the character, than a whole train of considerable actions. Thus, when I compare our English phrase of 'humble servant,' which likewise we omit upon the least intimacy, with the French one of 'the honour of being your most humble servant,' which they never forget,—this, compared with other circumstances, lets me clearly see the different humours of the nations. This phrase, of the honour of doing or saying such a thing to you, goes so far, that my washing-woman to-day told me, that she hoped she would have the honour of serving me while I staid at Rheims; and what is still more absurd, it is said by people to those who are very much their inferiors.
"Before I conclude my letter, I must tell you that I hope you will excuse my rudeness, if I use the freedom (?)[56:1] to desire of you that, the next time you do me the honour of writing to me, you will be so good as to sit down a day before the post goes away; for I cannot help being afraid that, in your haste, you have omitted many things, which otherwise I would have had the honour and satisfaction of hearing from you. When you are so good as to condescend to write, please to direct so:—'A Monsieur—Monsieur David Hume, gentilhomme, Ecossois, chez Monsieur Mesier, au Peroquet verd, proche la porte au Ferron, Rheims.'"[56:2]
