The account of his sojourn in France is thus given in his "own
life:"--"During my retreat in France, first at Rheims, but chiefly at La
Flêche, in Anjou, I composed my 'Treatise of Human Nature.' After
passing three years very agreeably in that country, I came over to
London in 1737."
We must now follow him to London, where we find him occupied in carrying
his "Treatise of Human Nature," through the press. One of his early
friends was his namesake Henry Home, afterwards Lord Kames, who
pursued, but with unequal step, the same path with himself. Home was
fifteen years the elder of the two, and had joined the bar in 1723. He
had already published some of his professional works; but it was at a
subsequent period of his life, and when he perhaps became emulous of the
fame of his friend, that he attempted works in ethics, metaphysics, and
criticism. During many years of continued intimacy, these two
distinguished men enjoyed each other's mutual respect; but, in their
early intercourse, when his senior had for some time occupied a
prominent position in the eye of the public, we naturally find Hume
writing about his great project in a tone of modest deference.
HUME _to_ HENRY HOME.
"_London, December 2, 1737._
"DEAR SIR,--I am sorry I am not able to satisfy your curiosity by giving
you some general notion of the plan upon which I proceed. But my
opinions are so new, and even some terms I am obliged to make use of,
that I could not propose, by any abridgment, to give my system an air of
likelihood, or so much as make it intelligible. It is a thing I have in
vain attempted already, at a gentleman's request in this place, who
thought it would help him to comprehend and judge of my notions, if he
saw them all at once before him. I have had a greater desire of
communicating to you the plan of the whole, that I believe it will not
appear in public before the beginning of next winter. For, besides that
it would be difficult to have it printed before the rising of the
parliament, I must confess I am not ill pleased with a little delay,
that it may appear with as few imperfections as possible. I have been
here near three months, always within a week of agreeing with my
printers; and you may imagine I did not forget the work itself during
that time, where I began to feel some passages weaker for the style and
diction than I could have wished. The nearness and greatness of the
event roused up my attention, and made me more difficult to please, than
when I was alone in perfect tranquillity in France. But here I must tell
you one of my foibles. I have a great inclination to go down to Scotland
this spring to see my friends; and have your advice concerning my
philosophical discoveries; but cannot overcome a certain shamefacedness
I have to appear among you at my years, without having yet a settlement,
or so much as attempted any. How happens it that we philosophers cannot
as heartily despise the world as it despises us? I think in my