WHIMS AND CAPRICES. 



31 



IEEITABILITY AND VANITY. 



ROUSSEAU AND DAVID HTJME. 



In 1762, the Parliament of 

 Paris issued an arret against Jean 

 Jacques Eousseau, on account of 

 his opinions, and the good offices of 

 David Hume were engaged to find 

 him a retreat in England. He was 

 established comfortably in the 

 mansion of Mr. Davenport, at 

 Wooton, in Derbyshire. This vain 

 man appeared in public in London 

 wearing an Armenian dress, which 

 of course attracted much notice ; and 

 so long as he was an object of curi- 

 osity, his vanity found ample gra- 

 tification. But being irritable as 

 ho was vain, whenever the interest 

 of his first appearance in England 

 began to subside, and he found 

 himself exposed to the animadver- 

 sions of the press, he became dis- 

 satisfied and jealous, and quarrelled 

 with his benefactor, Hume, whom 

 he accused of conceiving horrible 

 designs against him. Eousseau 

 has related an amusing interview 

 with Hume at the time when he 

 entertained this morbid suspicion 

 of the historian's sincerity. The 

 contrast betwixt the phlegmatic 

 reserve of Hume, and the violent 

 effervescence of the Genevese phi- 

 losopher is highly characteristic. 

 The scene arose out of a dispute 

 about the payment of a return 

 chaise : " As we were sitting one 

 evening, after supper, silently by 

 the fireside, I caught his eye in- 

 tently fixed on mine, as indeed 

 happened very often ; and that in a 

 manner of which it is very difficult 

 to give an idea. At that time he 



gave me a steadfast, piercing look r 

 mixed with a sneer, which greatly 

 disturbed me. To get rid of the 

 embarrassment I lay under, I en- 

 deavoured to look full at him in 

 my turn ; but in fixing my eyes 

 against his, I felt the most inex- 

 pressible terror, and was obliged 

 soon to turn them away. The 

 speech and physiognomy of the 

 good David is that of an honest 

 man ; but where, great God ! did 

 this good man borrow those eyes he 

 fixes so sternly and unaccountably 

 on those of his friends? The im- 

 pression of this look remained with 

 me, and gave me much uneasiness. 

 My trouble increased even to a de- 

 gree of fainting ; and if I had not 

 been relieved by an effusion of 

 tears I had been suffocated. Pre- 

 sently after this I was seized with 

 the most violent remorse ; I even 

 despised myself; till at length, in a 

 transport, which I still remember 

 with delight, I sprang on his neck, 

 embraced him eagerly, while almost 

 choked with sobbing, and bathed 

 in tears, I cried out in broken ac- 

 cents, No, no, David Hume cannot 

 be treacherous. If he be not the 

 best of men, he must be the basest 

 of mankind. David Hume politely 

 returned my embraces, and, gently 

 tapping me on the back, repeated 

 several times, in a good-natured 

 and easy tone, Why, what, my 

 dear sir ! nay, my dear sir ! O, my 

 dear sir! He said nothing more* 

 I felt my heart yearn within me. 

 We went to bed ; and I set out the 

 next day for the country." 



WHIMS AND CAPEICES. 



A MAD AUTHOR. 



An insane author, once placed in 

 confinement, employed most of his 

 time in writing. One night, being 



thus engaged by aid of a bright 

 moon, a slight cloud passed over 

 the luminary, when, in an impetu- 

 ous manner, he called out " Arise, 



