Life and Correspondence of David Hume, Volume 2 — David Hume — John Shaqi
Life and Correspondence of David Hume, Volume 2
David Hume · en
This man, the most singular of all human beings, has at last
left me; and I have very little hopes of ever being able, for
the future, to enjoy much of his company, though he says, that
if I settle either in London or Edinburgh, he will take a
journey on foot every year to visit me. Mr. Davenport, a
gentleman of £5000 or £6000 a-year, in the north of England,
and a man of great humanity and of a good understanding, has
taken the charge of him. He has a house called Wooton, in the
Peake of Derby, situated amidst mountains and rocks and
streams and forests, which pleases the wild imagination and
solitary humour of Rousseau; and as the master seldom
inhabited it, and only kept there a plain table for some
servants, he offered me to give it up to my friend. I
accepted, on condition that he would take from him £30 a-year
of board for himself and his gouvernante, which he was so
good-natured as to agree to. Rousseau has about £80 a-year,
which he has acquired by contracts with his booksellers, and
by a liferent annuity of £25 a-year, which he accepted from
Lord Marischal. This is the only man who has yet been able to
make him accept of money.
He was desperately resolved to rush into this solitude,
notwithstanding all my remonstrances; and I foresee, that he
will be unhappy in that situation, as he has indeed been
always in all situations. He will be entirely without
occupation, without company, and almost without amusement of
any kind. He has read very little during the course of his
life, and has now totally renounced all reading: He has seen
very little; and has no manner of curiosity to see or remark:
He has reflected, properly speaking, and studied very little;
and has not indeed much knowledge: He has only _felt_, during
the whole course of his life; and in this respect, his
sensibility rises to a pitch beyond what I have seen any
example of: but it still gives him a more acute feeling of
pain than of pleasure. He is like a man who were stript not
only of his clothes, but of his skin, and turned out in that
situation to combat with the rude and boisterous elements,
such as perpetually disturb this lower world. I shall give you
a remarkable instance of his turn of character in this
respect: It passed in my room, the evening before his
departure.