"My Own Life" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hume David)

of burying myself in a philosophical retreat. I returned to that
place, not richer, but with much more money, and a much larger
income, by means of Lord Hertford's friendship, than I left it; and
I was desirous of trying what superfluity could produce, as I had
formerly made an experiment of a competency. But, in 1767, I
received from Mr. Conway an invitation to be Under-secretary; and
this invitation, both the character of the person, and my connexions
with Lord Hertford, prevented me from declining. I returned to
Edinburgh in 1768, very opulent (for I possessed a revenue of 1000L.
a year), healthy, and though somewhat stricken in years, with the
prospect of enjoying long my ease, and of seeing the increase of my
reputation.

In spring 1775, I was struck with a disorder in my bowels,
which at first gave me no alarm, but has since, as I apprehend it,
become mortal and incurable. I now reckon upon a speedy dissolution.
I have suffered very little pain from my disorder; and what is more
strange, have, notwithstanding the great decline of my person, never
suffered a moment's abatement of my spirits; insomuch, that were I
to name the period of my life, which I should most choose to pass
over again, I might be tempted to point to this later period. I
possess the same ardour as ever in study, and the same gaiety in
company. I consider, besides, that a man of sixty-five, by dying,
cuts off only a few years of infirmities; and though I see many
symptoms of my literary reputation's breaking out at last with
additional lustre, I knew that I could have but few years to enjoy
it. It is difficult to be more detached from life than I am at
present.

To conclude historically with my own character. I am, or rather
was (for that is the style I must now use in speaking of myself,
which emboldens me the more to speak my sentiments); I was, I say, a
man of mild dispositions, of command of temper, of an open, social,
and cheerful humour, capable of attachment, but little susceptible
of enmity, and of great moderation in all my passions. Even my love
of literary fame, my ruling passion, never soured my temper,
notwithstanding my frequent disappointments. My company was not
unacceptable to the young and careless, as well as to the studious
and literary; and as I took a particular pleasure in the company of
modest women, I had no reason to be displeased with the reception I
met with from them. In a word, though most men any wise eminent,
have found reason to complain of calumny, I never was touched, or
even attacked by her baleful tooth: and though I wantonly exposed
myself to the rage of both civil and religious factions, they seemed
to be disarmed in my behalf of their wonted fury. My friends never
had occasion to vindicate any one circumstance of my character and
conduct: not but that the zealots, we may well suppose, would have
been glad to invent and propagate any story to my disadvantage, but
they could never find any which they thought would wear the face of
probability. I cannot say there is no vanity in making this funeral