Kitabı oku: «Private Letters of Edward Gibbon (1753-1794) Volume 2 (of 2)»

418.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, July 3rd, 1781.

Dear Madam,

Though your kind impatience might make the time appear tedious, there has been no other delay in my business, than the necessary forms of Election. My new constituents of Lymington obligingly chose me in my absence. I took my seat last Wednesday, and am now so old a member that I begin to complain of the heat and length of the Session. So much for Parliament. With regard to the board of trade, I am ignorant of your friend's meaning, and possibly she may be so herself. There has not been (to my knowledge) the most distant idea of my leaving it, and indeed there are few places within the compass of any rational ambition that I should like so well.

In a few days, as soon as we are relieved from public business, I shall go down to my Country house for the summer. Do not stare. I say my Country house. Notwithstanding Caplin's very diligent enquiries, I have not been able to please myself with anything in the neighbourhood of London, and have therefore hired for three months a small pleasant house at Brighthelmstone. I flatter myself that in that admirable sea-air, with the vicinity of Sheffield place, and a proper mixture of light study in the morning and good company in the evening, the summer may roll away not disagreably. – As I know your tender apprehensions, I promise you not to bathe in the sea without due preparation and advice.

Mrs. Porten has chosen, not for health but pleasure, a different sea-shore: she has been some weeks at Margate, and will scarcely return to town before my departure. I sincerely sympathize in all the melancholy scenes which have afflicted your sensibility, and am more particularly concerned about poor Miss Gould, to whom I wish to express the thoughts and hopes of friendship on this melancholy occasion. Lady Miller's¹ sudden death has excited some attention even in this busy World, her foibles are mentioned with general regard. Adieu, Dear Madam, and do not let Mrs. Ravaud tempt you into Elysium: we are tolerably well here.

I am

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

419.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, July 9th, 1781.

Dear Madam,

Nothing but my absence (on a visit to Mr. Jenkinson² in Surrey) should have prevented me from writing by the first post to remove those fears which could be suggested only by too exquisite a sensibility. I am well and happy; the modest expression of tolerably was intended to express a very high degree of content, and I most sincerely assure you that my journey to Brighthelmstone is in search not of health but of amusement and society.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

420.
To his Stepmother

Brighthelmstone, July 26th, 1781.

Dear Madam,

HIS HOUSE AT BRIGHTON.

After a short visit to Sheffield I came to this place last Sunday evening, and think it will answer my expectations. My house, which is not much bigger than yours, has a full prospect of the sea and enjoys a temperate climate in the most sultry days. The air gives health, spirits and a ravenous appetite. I walk sufficiently morning and evening, lounge in the middle of the day on the Steyne, booksellers' shops, &c., and by the help of a pair of horses can make more distant excursions. The society is good and easy, and though I have a large provision of books for my amusement, I shall not undertake any deep studies or laborious compositions this summer. You will rejoyce, I am sure, in hearing so favourable an account of my situation, and I wish I could propose to you to share it with me.

I am, Dear Madam,

Most truly yours,

E. Gibbon.

421.
To his Stepmother

Brighthelmstone, August 24th, 1781.

Dear Madam,

Of all mortals I have the least right to complain of a friend's silence, but yours has been so long and so unnatural that I am seriously alarmed. If you can assure me by a line that it does not proceed from want of health or spirits, I shall be perfectly at ease. Notwithstanding our princely visitors (the Cumberlands) who are troublesome, I like the air and society so well that I shall certainly stay here at least till the end of September. Adieu.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

422.
To Lord Sheffield

Brooke's, Thursday Evening, 1781.

What I hear would fill volumes, what I know does not amount to half a line. – All is expectation: but I fear that our enemies are more active than our friend. He³ is still at Bushy; a meeting is held next Saturday morn at eleven o'clock, but I think you need not hurry yourself. According to Louisa's phrase, I will be your grandfather. The black Patriot⁴ is now walking and declaiming in this room with a train at his heels. Adieu. No news.

E. G.

If there is another meeting Sunday evening you shall find a note. I have not seen Lord Loughborough, but understand he has preached war and any coalition against the Minister.

423.
To Lord Sheffield

1781.

Mrs. Williams, No. 8, Downing Street, will embrace Lord S., Mr. Purden and Co. for two Guineas and a half per week. The stables and Coach houses will be empty, and Mr. Collier will provide the needful refreshments. – Sir R[ichard] W[orsley] has opened the trenches in Doctors Commons, and cryed down his wife's credit with tradesmen, &c. I supped last night at Lord L[oughborough]'s with Mrs. Abingdon,⁵– a judge and an actress; what would Sir Roger Hill⁶ say? Dinner will be on table at five o'clock next Monday in Bentinck Street.

Saturday night. Brookes's absolutely alone. The town even yet very empty.

424.
To Lord Sheffield

Friday, two o'clock, 7th Sept., 1781.

FRENCH AND SPANISH FLEETS IN THE CHANNEL.

Lord Hillsborough⁷ tells me that himself and Co. believe that the combined fleets are gone into Brest. Expresses that left Bristol yesterday, and Plymouth, Wednesday, cannot give the least account of them, and a Portuguese ship from Lisbon the 23rd last month, beat several days between Scilly and the Land's end without seeing or hearing of them. However, at all events more than twenty-five swift sailing vessels had been sent out to meet and warn the West India fleets. Adieu.

We shall meet at Brighton on Monday.

E. G.

425.
To Lady Sheffield

Bentinck Street, Friday evening, ten o'clock, 1781.

*Oh, ho! I have given you the slip; saved thirty miles, by proceeding directly this day from Eartham to town, and am now comfortably seated in my library, in my own easy chair, and before my own fire; a style which you understand, though it is unintelligible to your Lord. The town is empty; but I am surrounded with a thousand old acquaintance of all ages and characters, who are ready to answer a thousand questions which I am impatient to ask. I shall not easily be tired of their Company; yet I still remember, and will honourably execute, my promise of visiting you at Brighton about the middle of next month. I have seen nobody, nor learned anything, in four hours of a town life; but I can inform you, that Lady * * * [erased] is now the declared mistress of Prince Henry of Prussia, whom she encountered at Spa; and that the Emperor has invited this amiable Couple to pass the winter at Vienna; fine encouragement for married women who behave themselves properly! I spent a very pleasant day in the little paradise of Eartham, and the hermit expressed a desire (no vulgar compliment) to see and to know Lord S. Adieu. I cordially embrace, &c.*

426.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, October 6th, 1781.

Dear Madam,

I have meditated a letter many posts, and the bell of Saturday evening now admonishes or rather reproaches. Allow me only to say that I am perfectly well, and expect very soon some more lines. The season no longer invites me to Brighthelmston, but the Sheffields, &c., insist on my passing another fortnight there, which will carry me (as I shall not go till Sunday seven-night) to the end of the month.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

427.
To Lord Sheffield

Bentinck Street, Oct. 21st, 1781.

The last ten years by your advice I ensured my farm buildings at Buriton and no accident happened. This year after your example I have ceased my insurance, and – read Hugonin's two letters, which I have just received and answered. I thank him for undertaking the necessary work, press for Harris's immediate resignation, and propose to weigh during the Winter the choice of tenants and the scale of repairs. The present rent is only £50. – If any ideas occur to you, communicate your instructions, and he will receave them with deference, but the subject makes me heavy. The time is ill chosen. If you go to Coventry you must pass through town – when? But I have almost done with Hampton Court. I may see Lord Beauchamp, but do not understand that I have anything to say to him from you. His brother may be a tolerable accession to the Party,⁸ and let me tell you it is no contemptible one. I mean the party of the H. of C. If we ever meet at S. P. you will introduce me to the Lady of whom I hear a very amiable character. Adieu. I arrived this morn from Eden's. Lord Loughborough does not arrive this week. From Cambridge I understand that you have suffered by the fatigues of the Camp.

Inform me of your health.

E. G.

428.
To his Stepmother

Brighthelmstone, Nov. 2nd, 1781.

Dear Madam,

If I had not been fortified by the friendly assurances which you sent me, I should indeed have been alarmed by the melancholy account that I heard of your health as soon as I arrived in Sussex. Since that time (an interval somewhat too long) I have been gradually better satisfied with the frequent and favourable dispatches from Bath, and I have now the satisfaction to find (however I might suspect your own friendly dissimulation) that even in Mr. H.'s apprehensive fancy you have in a great measure recovered that situation which I wish you long to preserve.

BRIGHTON IN NOVEMBER.

*I returned to this place with Lord and Lady Sheffield, with the design of passing two or three weeks in a situation which had so highly delighted me. But how vain are all sublunary hopes! I had forgot that there is some difference between the sunshine of August and the cold fogs (though we have uncommon good weather) of November. Instead of my beautiful sea-shore, I am confined to a dark lodging in the middle of the town; for the place is still full, and our time is now spent in the dull imitation of a London life. To compleat my misfortunes, Lord S. was hastily ordered to Canterbury, to suppress smuggling, and I was left almost alone with My Lady, in the servile state of a married man. But he returns to-day, and I hope to be seated in my own library by the middle of next week. However, you will not be sorry to hear that I have refreshed myself by a very idle summer, and indeed a much idler and more pleasant winter than the house of Commons will ever allow me to enjoy again.*

I hear of no public changes of administration, but you are perhaps already informed that a grand officer of my household (Mrs. Ford) at length retires on a pension, her wages for her life, with which she seems well contented, though I am ignorant of her plans. Mrs. Porten opened the business to her, but I have not yet sustained the last tender interview which I really dislike very much. Caplin assumes with pleasure the office of prime minister, and we hope that some lessons at White's will turn the housemaid (Edward's sister) into a good Cook for private ordinary days.

*I had almost forgot Mr. Hayley; ungratefully enough, since I really past a very simple, but entertaining day with him. His place, though small, is elegant as his mind, which I value much more highly.* And Adam might be happy if Eve had never been admitted into the paradise of Eartham. She is resolved (the air of Eartham after fifteen years' residence is found to be too cold) to eat another Bath apple, which as you properly apprehend will not be very wholesome either for her fame or his fortune. *Mrs. H. wrote a melancholy story of an American mother, a friend of her friend, who in a short time had lost three sons: one killed by the savages, one run mad from the fright at that accident, and the third taken at sea, now in England a prisoner in Forton hospital. For him something might perhaps be done. Your humanity will prompt you to obtain from Mrs. H. a more accurate account of names, dates, and circumstances; but you will prudently suppress my request, lest I should raise hopes which it may not be in my power to gratify. Lady S. begs to send her kindest Compliments to you.* The persons of Bath by whom and to whom I wish to be remembered are Mrs. Ravaud and the Goulds. What is become of poor Sir John Miller? I foresee very little prospect of visiting Bath at Christmas, but I depend, perhaps with too much confidence, on next Easter.

I am, dear Madam,

Ever yours.

429.
To Lord Sheffield

Bentinck Street, ¼ before five, 1781.

HIS ADVICE IN A QUARREL.

I have seen the General. You are both wrong; he first in lending your papers without special leave, and then in the real or apparent slight of your messages; you in the serious anger which you expressed on so trifling a business. Unless you wish that this slight scratch should inflame into an incurable sore, embrace the lucky opportunity of his illness and confinement, which will excuse your dignity and should assuage your resentment. Call on him this evening, give and receive, between jest and earnest, a volley of damns, and then let the whole affair be no more remembered than it deserves. Dixi et liberavi animam meam.

430.
To Lord Sheffield

Bentinck Street, November 20th, 1781.

I came yesterday from Jenkinson's (near Croydon), where I had spent two very agreeable days. We all tremble on the edge of a precipice, and whatever may be the event, the American war seems now to be reduced to very narrow compass both of time and place.

This morning Caplin was sent to reconnoitre: he reports that the stables are empty, but as the coach-house is full, the close alliance between carriage and horses will render the former circumstance of little avail. Nothing can be had in Parliament Street or the large streets adjoining except one whole house at four Guineas per week. In Fludyer and Downing-streets several indifferent and gloomy lodgings are at your service, but as I should prefer a Pall Mall, &c. situation, Caplin has paused till you send him more peremptory commands. – Your Monday dinner will be ready at five, and Adam, perhaps Batt, will be of the party.

Your Greeks were not carried from Brighton through carelessness, but as you are seriously absurd about lending books, I have directed Caplin to send them to S. P. per coach. By way of revenge I may inform you that I have now purchased a copy of Stephen's Greek Poets compared to which yours is very little more than waste paper. Adieu.

I embrace my Lady. I do not approve of her being called Cat.

E. G.

431.
To his Stepmother

H. of Commons, December 6th, 1781.

Dear Madam,

I wish most sincerely that it were in my power to give you or myself any comfort on the present state of public affairs, which is indeed deplorable and I fear hopeless. But at last I can send you a favourable account of myself: the late, hot, melancholy hours of the house of Commons,⁹ which seem to oppress every body round me, have no effect on my health or spirits, and I feel myself heartily tired (ennuyé) without being in the least fatigued. Of Mrs. P. I shall say nothing, as by this time you will have seen her brother and his wife, who set out this morning for Bath. A month without business will be a new and wholesome scene for Sir Stanier. I hear nothing, and want to hear something of Mrs. Hayley. You have heard of Lady Worsley; your old acquaintance Sir Richard labours with copious materials for a divorce.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

Thanks for the Carpet.

432.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, December 26th, 1781.

Dear Madam,

Will you excuse my only transmitting the needful, with the necessary assurance that I am well and happy, and the unnecessary addition, that I wish you long to remain so? I envy Sir Stanier and Lady Porten the pleasure which I shall not enjoy till Easter: pray give my love to them. I pity poor Delacour and his friends, above all his Christian wife or daughter. Give my compliments to Mrs. Hayley, and tell her that both song and music have been much applauded. Will she accept this notice as a letter? Adieu, Dear Madam. Believe me,

Most truly yours,

E. Gibbon.

433.
To Lady Sheffield

Bentinck Street, Dec. 29, 1781.

NOISE AND NONSENSE OF PARLIAMENT.

As Sheffelina has modernized herself by securing an unknown Cicisbeo, I have a great mind to propose a partie quarrée which might be easily furnished from Ickworth. If that project is rejected and I must make a solitary visit, I shall still obey the gracious mandate, but instead of the third day of the year (may it be more auspicious) 1782, I must delay my attendance till about the 8th or even the tenth, which will still allow me eight or ten days of fresh air and friendly converse, before I again descend into the noise and nonsense of the Pandemonium. At present we are as quiet in London as you can be in Sussex. Mrs. Stuart's shocking adventure is the only event that enlivens conversation; the family whisper insanity (a terrible resource), and strive without success to persuade that the whole scene passed only in her imagination – yet she certainly passed the whole night abroad. I did suppose that the Baron would be tired of his home in a week, but as this visit to the Regiment will abridge the remaining interval he may possibly support it. I hear nothing more of the house in D. S., but still believe that the minister will retire before your superior majesty;¹⁰ the last time I saw him he expressed great apprehension of your displeasure. I too am in pursuit of a house, in Harley Street, somewhat further in the country than my own: it has but one fault, a steep narrow staircase, but where must we seek (except at – ) either a house or a wife without one fault? I embrace the Angels, Princesses, &c. I believe the elder had rather be a Princess than an Angel. Adieu.

Le Grand Gibbon.

434.
To his Stepmother

Jan. 23rd, 1782.

Dear Madam,

I am not sorry that the indiscretion of certain female correspondents should give the opportunity of sending you a very fair but not flattering picture of myself. – It is very true that I have had a fit of the Gout; but if the name of agreable can ever be applied to the ugly monster, my Gout has deserved it on this occasion. It lasted on the whole no more than ten days, attacked only one foot, was attended with scarcely any fever, loss of appetite, or lowness of spirits, and has left me in perfect health both of mind and body. – Our busy scene commences to-morrow;¹¹ and I am now entering into the hurry of the winter: but I will write again soon.

I am

Most truly yours,

E. G.

435.
To his Stepmother

March 2nd, 1782.

Dear Madam,

I am much afraid that I have lost all credit by repeated promises and repeated neglects, yet I still persuade myself that you are glad to hear, though in two lines, of my health and good spirits, and that you will postpone more ample conversations to the Easter Holydays, when I can talk more in an hour than I could write in a month. Perhaps I should even have delayed this scrap of an Epistle, were I not apprehensive that the parliamentary events of this week would have given you some uneasiness both on a private and public account. Though I am not in the secret, especially of the adverse party, yet I know more than it is proper to trust to paper.¹²

The situation of the administration, though dangerous, is not absolutely desperate, and with some concessions I still think that Lord N. may survive the impending storm of the next fortnight. At all events, if we fall (for, inconsiderable as I am, I am sure of being one of the first victims) I shall meet my fate with resolution. – I remember you asked me an age ago about a report of my having got a house in Harley Street and a wreck of wine on the Coast of Sussex: the former was a fruitless negociation, the latter related to my aunt's manor of Newhaven, but the wine is contested by the King's officers, and the litigation, if pursued, may cost her more than the object is worth. Adieu. My Dear Madam, on every account I am impatient for the Easter holydays.

I am

Ever yours,

E. G.

436.
To his Stepmother

March 20th, 1782.

My Dear Madam,

FALL OF LORD NORTH'S MINISTRY.

All is now over, and Lord North is no more. This day when the armies in the H. of C. were ready to engage, he gave solemn notice that the whole administration was dissolved, and the House has adjourned till Monday next to allow time for the new arrangements. Complaints are vain and useless for the past, and futurity is dark and dismal. It is my intention, unless I should be detained either by serious business, or by some threatening symptoms of the Gout, to visit Bath about Sunday sennight, when we may discuss freely and fully the strange events of the times. Till then Adieu. Remember me to Mrs. Hayley. The Eliots whom I see sometimes are well, and as you may suppose triumphant.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

437.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, March 28th, 1782.

Dear Madam,

In our common disappointment you will be pleased to hear that the Gout has totally left me, and that it is only the extreme shortness of our adjournment and the busy uncertainty of the times that have prevented my Easter visit to Bath. I am satisfied that Bath is very pleasant in the months of May and June, and you may be assured that I will come down, as soon as our fate is determined and the busyness of parliament has begun to subside. Pray give my compliments to Mrs. Hayley. I fear she will be gone before my arrival.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

438.
To his Stepmother

May 4th, 1782.

Dear Madam,

HIS LOSS OF OFFICE.

The thunder-bolt has fallen, and I have received one of the circular letters from Lord Shelburne to inform me that the board of trade will be suppressed and that his Majesty has no further occasion for my services. I have been prepared for this event and can support it with firmness. I enjoy health, friends, reputation, and a perpetual fund of domestic amusement: I am not without resources, and my best resource, which shall never desert me, is in the chearfullness and tranquillity of a mind which in any place and in any situation can always secure its own independent happyness. The business of the House of Commons still continues, and indeed encreases, and though I am heartily tired of the scene, some serious reasons prevent me from retiring at the present season. Yet I still cast a longing eye towards Bath, and though I find it difficult, or rather impossible, to fix the moment of my summer visit, I can most sincerely promise that it will be the first use which I shall make of my freedom. As I have only one object, it will be perfectly indifferent to me whether the place be full or empty, dully or lively. Mrs. Holroyd, I suppose, has found, and Mrs. Hayley has left, you. Are you acquainted with Lady Eliza Foster,¹³ a bewitching animal? You have heard of my Gouts, they are vanished, and I feel myself five and twenty years old. Can you say as much? I hope you can. Adieu. Recommend me to the Goulds.

I am

Most truly yours,

E. G.

Next Wednesday I conclude my forty-fifth year, and in spite of the changes of Kings and Ministers, I am very glad that I was born.

439.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, May 29th, 1782.

Dear Madam,

From the very strong expressions of anxious expectationand frequent disappointments, I must think that I am much more guilty than I conceived myself to be on account of my silence. Your apparent indulgence had taught me to believe that you were accustomed to my faults, that you kindly forgave them, and that without the aid of the pen or the post your own heart would inform you of the sentiments of mine. Since my last letter nothing has happened, indeed nothing can happen to affect my situation: in the midst of a plague (such is the present influenza) my health and spirits are perfectly good, and in that tranquil state Saturdays and Mondays pass away without waking me from my gentle slumber. Even my curiosity is not excited, as I have frequent opportunities of hearing circumstantial and impartial accounts of the only object that interests me at Bath.

You ask with some anxiety when you may hope to see me. I know not what to say. Though I always foresee and recollect with heartfelt satisfaction the time which I spend at the Belvidere, yet the convenient season of my visit seems to retire before me. Public events have immoderately protracted the present session of Parliament; it will certainly continue the whole of June and a considerable part of July, and as it was my intention to attend it to the last, I began to think that you would excuse me if I delayed my journey (which would suit me far better) till the beginning of Autumn. But if you have any particular reasons that make you wish to see me sooner, say it in ten lines, and I will set off in ten days. I rejoyce in every subject of your joy both private and public, and I am better pleased to hear that you are free from pain than that Rodney has destroyed a French fleet.¹⁴ Alas! had he done it two months sooner our poor administration would have stood. Every person of every party is provoked with our new Governors for taking the truncheon from the hand of a victorious Admiral, in whose place they have sent a Commander without experience or abilities.¹⁵ To-morrow they will be exposed to a small fire in the H. of C. on that popular topic. Adieu, Dear Madam, in this sickly season all my acquaintance (masters, mistresses and servants) are laid up except young Mrs. Porten and myself.

I am

Most truly yours,

E. G.

440.
To his Stepmother

July 3rd, 1782.

Dear Madam,

DEATH OF LORD ROCKINGHAM.

*I hope you have not had a moment's uneasiness about the delay of my Midsummer letter. Whatever may happen, you may rest fully secure, that the materials of it shall always be found. But on this occasion I have missed four or five posts; postponing, as usual, from morning to the evening bell, which now rings, till it has occurred to me, that it might not be amiss to inclose the two essential lines, if I only added that the Influenza has been known to me only by the report of others. Lord Rockingham¹⁶ is at last dead; a good man, though a feeble minister: his successor is not yet named, and divisions in the Cabinet are suspected. If Lord Shelburne should be the Man, as I think he will, the friends of his predecessor will quarrel with him before Christmas. At all events, I foresee much tumult and strong opposition, from which I should be very glad to extricate myself, by quitting the H. of C. with honour and without loss. Whatever you may hear, I believe there is not the least intention of dissolving Parliament, which would indeed be a rash and dangerous measure.

I hope you like Mr. Hayley's poem;¹⁷ he rises with his subject, and since Pope's death, I am satisfied that England has not seen so happy a mixture of strong sense and flowing numbers. Are you not delighted with his address to his mother? I understand that She was, in plain prose, every thing that he speaks her in verse. This summer I shall stay in town, and work at my trade, till I make some Holydays for my Bath excursion. Lady S. is at Brighton, and he lives under tents, like the wild Arabs; so that my Country house is shut up. Kitty Porten is gone on a fortnight's frolick to lodge at Windsor.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours.

441.
To Lord Sheffield, at Coxheath Camp

Saturday night, Bentinck Street, 1782.

*I sympathise with your fatigues; yet Alexander, Hannibal, &c. have suffered hardships almost equal to yours. At such a moment it is disagreeable (besides laziness) to write, because every hour teems with a new lye. As yet, however, only Charles¹⁸ has formally resigned; but Lord John, Burke, Keppel, Lord Althorpe, &c. certainly follow; your Commander-in-chief stays, and they are furious against the Duke of Richmond.*¹⁹ Why will he not go out with Fox? said somebody; because, replies a friend, he does not like to go out with any man. *In short, three months of prosperity has dissolved a Phalanx, which had stood ten years' adversity. Next Tuesday, Fox will give his reasons, and possibly be encountered by Pitt, the new Secretary, or Chancellor, at three and twenty. The day will be rare and curious, and, if I were a light Dragoon, I would take a gallop on purpose to Westminster. Adieu. I hear the bell. How could I write before I knew where you dwelt?*

E. G.

442.
To Lord Sheffield

July 10th, 1782.

LORD SHELBURNE'S MINISTRY.

Authentic List. ²⁰

Yesterday was a rare day.

Vera Cop,

E. G.

443.
To Lord Sheffield

July 23rd, 1782.

The papers say you are at Coxheath. Write. Bad news from India; I am afraid that we have lost a ship and that Hyder has won a battle.²¹ None, therefore good, from Lord Howe since every day fortifies him.²² Within this last fortnight prodigious exertions by the Admiralty, till then they were fast asleep. The Advocate arrived last night, but has not yet accepted. To-morrow I visit Eden at his farm near Bromley. If you and my Lady could give me a meeting in a house, I would run down even for three or four days: but I do not admire canvass. Adieu.

E. G.

Aunt Hester seems to want some intelligence.

444.
To his Stepmother

August 10th, 1782.

Dear Madam,

A person whom you would scarcely suspect, General Conway as commander in Chief, is the real author of my silence, which as usual has insensibly lasted far beyond my first intentions. Lord Sheffield is a slave, his master's resolutions are obscure and fluctuating, and I have waited from post to post till he could mark some week for our meeting in Sussex, which might leave the rest of my time at liberty for my Bath expedition. Though I can obtain no satisfaction from him, I must not suffer another Monday to slide away without saying that I am alive, well, and unless the Arab should seize (he has no choice) that particular moment, in full expectation of gratifying my wishes by a visit to Bath about the 20th of next month. I flatter myself that I shall find you not affected by the long winter which we still feel, though a friend of mine, an Astronomer, assured me that yesterday was the last of the dog days.

It is impossible to know what to say of our public affairs, and the most knowing are only such by the knowledge of their ignorance. The next session of Parliament will be the warmest and most irregular battle that has ever been fought in that place, and each man (except some leaders) is at the moment uncertain of the party which inclination, opinion, or connection will prompt him to embrace. You see that Mr. Eliot, or at least his family, are become courtiers; his son (a very unmeaning youth) is a Lord of the Treasury, an office which was formerly the reward of twenty years' able and faithful service. The Minister has not lost, for he never possessed, the public confidence, and Lord N[orth], if he chuses to act, has the balance of the country in his hands. A propos of the Eliots they are still in town. We meet seldom, but with the utmost propriety and equal regard.

IMMERSED IN THE ROMAN EMPIRE.

My private life is a gentle and not unpleasing continuation of my old labours, and I am again involved, as I shall be for some years, in the decline and fall of the Roman Empire. Some fame, some profit, and the assurance of daily amusement encourage me to persist. I am glad you are pleased with Mr. Hayley's poem; perhaps he might have been less diffuse, but his sense is fine and his verse is harmonious. – Mrs. Porten is just returned from a six weeks' excursion in lodgings at Windsor, which she enjoyed (the Terrace, the Air, and the Royal family) with all the spirit of youth. Her elder brother is quiet in his new employment and apartments in Kensington palace. I envy him the latter, and had there been no Revolution I might have obtained a similar advantage. At present I am on the ground, but the weather may change, and compared with recent darkness, the clouds are beginning to break away.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

445.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, Sept. 14, 1782.

Dear Madam,

As you suffered by the long winter, I may reasonably, as I warmly, hope that your health and spirits have been permanently restored by the milder Spring or Autumn which this month has introduced: – For many reasons you will be surprised, though I think pleased, to hear that I have fixed myself for this season in a country villa of Hampton court. My friend Mr. Hamilton (I must distinguish him by the impertinent epithet of 'single speech') has very obligingly lent me a ready furnished house close to the Palace, and opening by a private door into the Royal garden, which is maintained for my use but not at my expence. The air and exercise, good roads and neighbourhood, the opportunity of being in London at any time in two hours, and the temperate mixture of society and study, adapt this new scene very much to my wishes, and must entirely remove your kind apprehensions of my injuring my health (which I have never done) by excessive labour. I find or make many acquaintance, and among others I have visited your old friend Mrs. Manhood (Ashby) at Isleworth in her pleasant summer-house on the Thames. She overwhelms me with civility, but you need not indulge either hopes or fears: as I hear she is going to accept Sir William Draper²³ for her third husband.

You will naturally suppose, and will not I think be displeased that I should enjoy this new and unexpected situation as long as the fine weather continues, and our past hardships encourage us to depend on the favour, at least the first favours of the month of October. Beyond that period the prospect in every sense of the word is cloudy, and my future motions will be partly regulated by parliament, and the intanglement of some private pursuits with public affairs. I still flatter myself with the hope of securing two or three weeks for Bath; but if I should again delay that visit till Christmas, I shall prove my perfect confidence in your indulgent friendship, and in your firm belief of my tender attachment, which can alone justify such freedom of conduct. Of the Sheffields I know little, seldom hear from, and am totally ignorant when I shall see them. The Eliots are gone into Cornwall. They say that the son is going to marry Lady Sarah Pitt,²⁴ sister to his intimate friend the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

From the little I have read I agree with you about Gilbert Stuart's²⁵ book, but I cannot forgive your indifference and almost aversion to one of the most amiable men, and masterly compositions in the world.

I am, Dear Madam,

Most truly yours,

E. G.

I lay in town last night, and am just setting out for Hampton Court.

N.B. – I never travel after dark, but our dangers are almost over.

446.
To Lord Sheffield

September 29th, 1782.

HIS HAMPTON COURT VILLA.

I should like sometimes to hear whether you survive the scenes of action and danger in which a Dragoon is continually involved. What a difference between the life of a Dragoon and that of a Philosopher! and I will freely own that I (the Philosopher) am much better satisfied with my own independent and tranquil situation, in which I have always something to do, without ever being obliged to do any thing. The Hampton Court Villa has answered my expectation, and proved no small addition to my comforts; so that I am resolved next summer to hire, borrow, or steal, either the same, or something of the same kind. Every morning I walk a mile or more before breakfast, read and write quantum sufficit, mount my chaise and visit in the neighbourhood, accept some invitations, and escape others, use the Lucans as my daily bread, dine pleasantly at home or sociably abroad, reserve for study an hour or two in the evening, lye in town regularly once a week, &c. &c. &c. I have anounced to Mrs. G. my new Arrangements; the certainty that October will be fine, and my encreasing doubts whether I shall be able to reach Bath before Christmas. Do you intend (but how can you intend any thing?) to pass the winter under Canvas? Perhaps under the veil of Hampton Court I may lurk ten days or a fortnight at Sheffield, if the enraged Lady or cat does not shut the doors against me.

The Warden²⁶ passed through in his way to Dover. He is not so fat, and more chearful than ever. I had not any private conversation with him; but he clearly holds the balance; unless he falls asleep and lets it fall from his hand. The Pandæmonium (as I understand) does not meet till the 26th of November. I feel with you that a nich is grown of higher value, but think that only an additional argument for disposing of it. And so by this time Lord L.²⁷ is actually turned off. Do you know his partner (Miss Courtenay, the Lord's sister), about thirty, only £4000, not handsome, but very pleasant. I am at a loss where to address my condoleance, I would say congratulation. Town is more a desert than I ever knew it. I arrived yesterday, dined at Sir Joshua's with a tolerable party; the chaise is now at the door; I dine at Richmond, lye at Hampton, &c. Adieu.

E. G.

447.
To his Stepmother

Hampton Court, October 1st, 1782.

My dear Madam,

I feel your anxiety, and am impatient to assure you that the report of your officious visitor is absolutely without foundation. I had not any complaints when I came down to this place; but the air, exercise and dissipation have given me fresh spirits; and I should be apt to fix on the last month as the part of my life in which I have enjoyed the most perfect health. You may depend on my word of honour, that in case of any real alarm, you shall hear from myself or from Caplen. – Excuse brevity, as I save a day, perhaps more, by sending Caplen with Duplicates to London, one copy for the post, the other to take the chance of greater dispatch by the coach. I wish to know what you think of me and my schemes; if you are not perfectly satisfied with my confidence, you may be somewhat displeased with my seeming neglect. I fear we shall not meet till Christmas.

I am

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

448.
To Lord Sheffield at Coxheath Camp

Bentinck Street, October 14th, 1782.

RELIEF OF GIBRALTAR.

*On the approach of winter, my paper house of Hampton becomes less comfortable; my visits to Bentinck Street grow longer and more frequent, and the end of next week will restore me to the town, with a lively wish, however, to repeat the same, or a similar experiment, next Summer. I admire the assurance with which you propose a month's residence at Sheffield, when you are not sure of being allowed three days. Here it is currently reported, that Camps will not separate till Lord Howe's return from Gibraltar,²⁸ and as yet we have no news of his arrival. Perhaps, indeed, you have more intimate correspondence with your old school-fellow, Lord Shelburne, and already know the hour of your deliverance. I should like to be informed. As Lady S. has entirely forgot me, I shall have the pleasure of forming a new acquaintance. I have often thought of writing, but it is now too late to repent.

I am at a loss what to say or think about our Parliamentary state. A certain late Secretary of Ireland,²⁹ the husband of Polly Jones, reckons the House of Commons thus: Minister 140, Reynard 90, Boreas 120, the rest unknown, or uncertain. The last of the three, by self or agents, talks too much of absence, neutrality, moderation. I still think he will discard the game.

I am not in such a fury with the letter of American independence;³⁰ but it seems ill-timed and useless; and I am much entertained with the Metaphysical disputes between Government and secession about the meaning of it. Lord Lough[borough] will be in town Sunday sen-night. I long to see him and Co. I think he will take a very decided part. If he could throw aside his Gown, he would make a noble Leader. The East India news are excellent; the French gone to the Mauritius, Heyder desirous of peace, the Nizam and Mahrattas our friends, and 70 Lack of Rupees in the Bengal treasury, while we were voting the recall of Hastings.³¹ Adieu. Write soon.

E. G.

449.
To Lady Sheffield

Bentinck Street, October 31st, 1782.

Although I am provoked (it is always right to begin first) with your long and unaccountable silence, yet I cannot help wishing (a foolish weakness) to learn whether you and the two infants are still alive, and what have been the summer amusements of your widowed and their orphan state. Some indirect intelligence inclines me to suspect that the Baron himself has quitted before this time a house of Canvas for one of brick, and that he enjoys a short interval between the fatigues of War and those of Government. Should he happen to find himself in your neighbourhood you may inform him that Hugonin (good creature) came to town purposely on my business and passed three hours with me this morning. Harris has resigned his Case of the conflagration, and either by a sale to Lord Stawell or by a new Tenant we shall make it rather a profitable affair.

ENTHUSIASM FOR SIR GEORGE ELIOTT.

You have doubtless received very accurate accounts of my proceedings from the Cambridges by which channel I have likewise obtained very frequent narratives of your life and conversation, and this mutual Gazette has contributed not a little to stifle the reproaches of my conscience. In my excursions round the Hampton neighbourhood, I have often visited and dined with them, and found him properly sensible of his happyness in the absence of his wife: indeed I never saw a man more improved by any fortunate event. My campaign, and it has been a pleasant one, is now closed, but in the time which remains before the opening of our Pandemonium, I should not dislike to breathe for a week or ten days the air of Sheffield Place, and as the Lord will be accessible in town before Christmas, my attack (according to modern rules) will be chiefly designed for the Lady. About Wednesday or Thursday next would be the day that I should think of moving, but I wish to be informed how far such a plan may consist (as the Scotch say) with other arrangements. Adieu. Is not Elliot³² a glorious old fellow? We suspend our judgment of Lord Howe, yet I like the prospect.

I embrace, &c.,

E. G.

450.
To his Stepmother

November 7th, 1782.

Dear Madam,

Last week I finished my Hampton Court expedition, and think myself obliged to the person and to the accident which have thrown that unexpected but not unpleasing variety into my Summer life. I am now fixed in town till Christmas, or if Lord Sheffield who has quitted his camp should drag me into Sussex, it can be only for three or four days.

The Parliamentary campaign is approaching very fast,³³ and a very singular one it must be from the conflict of three parties, each of which will be exposed in its turn to the direct or oblique attacks of the other two. As a matter of curiosity I shall derive some gratification from my silent seat, but at present I do not perceive its use in any other light. From honour, gratitude and principle I am and shall be attached to Lord N., who will lead a very respectable force into the field, but I much doubt whether matters are ripe for either conquest or coalition, and the havock which Burke's bill has made of places, &c., encreases the difficulties of a new arrangement. However a month or two may change the face of things, and the faces of men.

WILLIAM PITT AND MRS. SIDDONS.

Among those men surely Will Pitt the second is the most extraordinary.³⁴ I know you never liked the father, and I have no connection public or private with the son. Yet we cannot refuse to admire a youth of four and twenty whom eloquence and real merit have already made Chancellor of the Exchequer without his promotion occasioning either surprize or censure.

We are much indebted to your Bath Theatre for Mrs. Siddons:³⁵ two years ago, and in the part of Lady Townley, she did not strike me: but I saw her last night with the most exquisite pleasure. She gave sense and spirit to a wretched play (the Fatal Marriage), and displayed every power of voice, action, and countenance to a degree which left me nothing to wish. To-morrow I promise myself still more satisfaction from Jane Shore, as the character is more worthy of her talents. Adieu, Dear Madam. Inform me that the beginning of the winter has not affected your health. Whatever may be the state of my namesake, I hope at Christmas to bring you a sound body, and a mind not dissatisfied with external things, because it is not dissatisfied with itself.

I am

Ever yours,

E. G.

451.
To his Stepmother

December 21st, 1782.

Dear Madam,

I write a little letter on little paper because I shall soon have the pleasure of conversing with you in a less laborious manner. Next Thursday I propose to begin my journey for Bath, but as the times (in a public and private light) are very hard, I shall travel with my own horses, lye two nights on the road, and reach the Belvidere for a late dinner Saturday. You will be so good as to secure me a lodging; the nearness to your house will be its best recommendation, as you are my sole inducement. If any business should detain me two or three days longer in town, you may depend on the earliest notice.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

452.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, December 26th, 1782.

Dear Madam,

It was not in my power to set out this morning (Thursday), and therefore I cannot hope to reach Bath Saturday. I am not perfectly sure whether Sunday or Monday will be the day of my arrival: for which reason I shall eat a mutton chop at the Devizes, and beg you would not wait dinner for me.

I am

Most truly yours,

E. G.

453.
To Lord Sheffield

Tuesday evening, 1782.

THE DEARTH OF NEWS.

*I have designed writing every post. – The air of London is admirable; my complaints have vanished, and the Gout still respects me. Lord L., with whom I passed an entire day, is very well satisfied with his Irish expedition, and found the barbarous people very kind to him: the castle is strong, but the volunteers are formidable. London is dead, and all intelligence so totally extinct, that the loss of an army would be a favourable incident. We have not even the advantage of Shipwrecks, which must soon, with the society of Ham[ilton] and Lady Shelley, become the only pleasures of Brighton. My lady is precious, and deserves to shine in London, when she regains her palace. The workmen are slow, but I hear that the Minister talks of hiring another house after Christmas. Adieu, till Monday seven-night.* Shall Caplin get you a lodging?

454.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, Jan. 16th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

I reached London after an easy and pleasant journey, and am now seated in my library before a good fire, and among three or four thousand of my old acquaintance. The prospect of my future life is not gloomy: yet I should esteem myself a very happy man indeed, if every fortnight could be of as pure a white as the last which I have spent at Bath in the society of the most sincere as well as amiable of my friends.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

455.
To Lord Sheffield

January 17th, 1783.

*As I arrived about five o'Clock on Wednesday last, we were some time in town in mutual ignorance. Unlucky enough: yet our loss will be speedily repaired. Your reason for not writing is worthy of an Irish Baron. You thought Sarah might be at Bath, because you directed letters to her at Clifton, near Bristol; where indeed I saw her in a delightful situation, swept by the winter winds, and scorched by the summer sun. A nobler reason for your silence would be the care of the public papers, to record Your steps, words, and actions. I was pleased with your Coventry oration: a panegyric on the Hertford family³⁶ is a subject entirely new, and which no orator before yourself would have dared to undertake. You have acted with prudence and dignity in casting away the military yoke,* yet even if I had a right I should try to moderate my indignation. *This next summer you will sit down (if you can sit) in the long-lost character of a country Gentleman.

For my own part, my late journey has only confirmed me in the opinion, that No. 7 Bentinck-street is the best house in the World. I find that peace and war alternately, and daily, take their turns of conversation, and this (Friday) is the pacific day. Next week³⁷ we shall probably hear some questions on that head very strongly asked, and very foolishly answered. I embrace, &c. Give me a line by return of post, and possibly I may visit Downing-street on Monday evening; late, however, as I am engaged to dinner and cards. Adieu.*

E. G.

456.
To his Stepmother

Feb. 19th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

On Monday or rather Tuesday last we gave the first blow to Lord S.'s Government by a majority of sixteen in the House of C. on the Peace, which will be followed by new and decisive attacks.³⁸ The victory was obtained by the union of Lord North with Fox and the Rockingham party. – You would have blamed me for going, or rather being carried, down with flannels and crutches, and sitting all night till past eight in the morning: but I have the pleasure of assuring you that the heat and fatigue have done me no harm, that I have already changed my two crutches into a single stick, which I hope to throw away in three or four days. This fit of the Gout, though severe, has been short, regular, and I think beneficial. Adieu.

I am

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

457.
To his Stepmother

March 29th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

RESIGNATION OF LORD SHELBURNE.

Will you credit and excuse the cause of my delay? I came home late and found your letter on my table: meaning to read it the next morning, I slipt it into my drawer, and till this moment it escaped my memory and my eye. – I would not bribe you to prefer my silence, yet you may always take it as an assured proof that the body Gibbon is in a perfect state of health and spirits, as it is most truly at the present moment, and since the entire retreat of my Gout. The state of public affairs is Anarchy without example and without end,³⁹ and if the King does not decide before Monday, the consequences to the House of Commons will be fatal indeed. Every day produces its own lye, and nothing that is probable is true. Yet I believe that Pitt will not accept, and that the Coalition must succeed.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

458.
To his Stepmother

March 31st, 1783.

Dear Madam,

THE COALITION MINISTRY.

In my last, written like this in a very great hurry, I used (if I am not mistaken) an expression which at a distance might alarm you too much. The fatal Monday is past without any fatal consequences, yet no Administration is appointed; but as Pitt has formally resigned,⁴⁰ the K. will probably yield without expecting a second and more serious address on Thursday. – I rejoyce to hear that you have surmounted your complaint, and hope you will feel every day the genial influence of the spring.

I am

Ever yours,

E. G.

459.
To his Stepmother

May 5th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

My cousin Robert Darrel gave me great pleasure by the information that he thought you perfectly recovered from your late indisposition. I depend on his testimony, which removed all my doubts and suspicions of your giving too favourable an account of yourself. For my own part, after paying my annual tribute to the gout, I find myself in the same even course of health and spirits which I have enjoyed for many years. The business of the house of Commons has been postponed by waiting first for peace and afterwards for Government; the long hot days will be crowded, and we shall wrangle with a strong June sun shining through the windows to reproach our folly.⁴¹ I have already made one short visit to my Cottage at Hampton Court; I propose every week to steal away like a Citizen from Saturday till Monday, and persuade myself that I shall be revived by such excursions. You express a kind indignation against the persons for whose sake I acted the devil upon two sticks. Notwithstanding their apparent neglect I have reason to think them well inclined towards me, and have even received some assurances, but as every thing that depends on ministers is precarious and uncertain, I would not raise too much either your hopes or my own. If any situation⁴² permanent and proper could be obtained, incompatible with a seat in parliament, I should retire from that Assembly without the least reluctance.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

460.
A M. Deyverdun, à Lausanne

A Londres, ce 20 Mai, 1783.

*Que j'admire la douce et parfaite confiance de nos sentimens réciproques! Nous nous aimons dans l'éloignement et le silence, et il nous suffit à l'un et à l'autre, de savoir de tems en tems des nouvelles de la santé et du bonheur de son ami. Aujourd'hui j'ai besoin de vous écrire; je commence sans excuses et sans reproches, comme si nous allions reprendre la conversation familière du jour précédent. Si je proposois de faire un compte rendu de mes études, de mes occupations, de mes plaisirs, de mes nouvelles liaisons, de ma politique toujours muette, mais un peu plus rapprochée des grands événemens, je multiplierois mes in quarto, et je ne sais pas encore votre avis sur ceux que je vous ai déjà envoyés. Dans cette histoire moderne, il seroit toujours question de la décadence des empires; et autant que j'en puis juger sur mes réminiscences et sur le rapport de l'ami Bugnon, vous aimez aussi peu la puissance de l'Angleterre que celle des Romains. Notre chute, cependant, a été plus douce. Après une guerre sans succès, et une paix assez peu glorieuse, il nous reste de quoi vivre contens et heureux; et lorsque je me suis dépouillé du rôle de Membre du Parlement, pour redevenir homme, philosophe, et historien, nous pourrions bien nous trouver d'accord sur la plupart des scènes étonnantes qui viennent de se passer devant nos yeux, et qui fourniront une riche matière aux plus habiles de mes successeurs.

Bornons nous à cette heure à un objet moins illustre sans doute, mais plus intéressant pour tous les deux, et c'est beaucoup que le même objet puisse intéresser deux mortels qui ne se sont pas vûs, qui à peine se sont écrit depuis – oui, ma foi – depuis huit ans. Ma plume, très paresseuse au commencement, ou plutôt avant le commencement, marche assez vîte, lorsqu'elle s'est une fois mise en train; mais une raison qui m'empêcheroit de lui donner carrière, c'est l'espérance de pouvoir bientôt me servir avec vous d'un instrument encore plus commode, la langue. Que l'homme, l'homme anglois, l'homme Gibbon, est un sot animal! Je l'espère, je le désire, je le puis, mais je ne sais pas si [je] le veux, encore moins si j'exécuterai cette volonté.

Voici mon histoire, autant qu'elle pourra vous éclairer, qu'elle pourra m'éclairer moi-même, sur mes véritables intentions, qui me paroissent très obscures, et très équivoques; et vous aurez la bonté de m'apprendre quelle sera ma conduite future. Il vous souvient, Seigneur, que mon grandpère a fait sa fortune, que mon père l'a mangée avec un peu trop d'appétit, et que je jouis actuellement du fruit, ou plutôt du reste, de leurs travaux. Vous n'avez pas oublié que je suis entré au Parlement sans patriotisme, sans ambition, et que toutes mes vues se bornoient à la place commode et honnête d'un Lord of Trade. Cette place, je l'ai obtenue enfin; je l'ai possédée trois ans, depuis 1779 jusqu' à 1782, et le produit net, qui se montoit à sept cens cinquante livres sterling, augmentoit mon revenu au niveau de mes besoins et de mes désirs. Mais au printems de l'année précédente, l'orage a grondé sur nos têtes: Milord North a été renversé, votre serviteur chassé, et le Board même, dont j'étois membre, aboli et cassé pour toujours par la réformation de M. Burke, avec beaucoup d'autres places de l'Etat, et de la maison du Roi.

HIS VIEW OF ENGLISH POLITICS.

Pour mon malheur, je suis toujours resté Membre de la Chambre basse: à la fin du dernier Parlement (en 1780) M. Eliot à retiré sa nomination; mais la faveur de Milord North a facilité ma rentrée, et la reconnoissance m'imposoit le devoir de faire valoir, pour son service, les droits que je tenois en partie de lui. Cet hyver nous avons combattu sous les étendards réunis (vous savez notre histoire) de Milord North et de M. Fox; nous avons triomphé de Milord Shelburne et de la paix,* et mon ami (je n'aime pas à profaner ce nom) a remonté sur sa bête en qualité de secretaire d'Etat. C'est à présent qu'il peut bien me dire ç'etoit beaucoup pour moi, ce n'etoit rien pour nous, et malgré les assurances les plus fortes, j'ai trop de raison pour avoir de la foi. *Avec beaucoup d'esprit, et des qualités très respectables, notre homme* a la demarche lente et le cœur froid. Il *n'a plus ni le titre, ni le crédit de premier ministre; des collègues plus actifs lui enlèvent les morceaux les plus friands, qui sont aussitôt dévorés par la voracité de leurs créatures; nos malheurs et nos réformes ont diminué le nombre des graces; par orgueil ou par paresse, je solicite assez mal, et si je parviens enfin, ce sera peut-être à la veille d'une nouvelle révolution, qui me fera perdre dans un instant, ce qui m'aura coûté tant de soins et de recherches.

Si je ne consultois que mon cœur et ma raison, je romprois sur le champ cette indigne chaine de la dépendance; je quitterois le Parlement, Londres, l'Angleterre; je chercherois sous un ciel plus doux, dans un pays plus tranquille, le repos, la liberté, l'aisance, et une société éclairée, et aimable. En attendant la mort de ma belle-mere et de ma tante je coulerois quelques années de ma vie sans espérance, et sans crainte, j'acheverais mon histoire, et je ne rentrerois dans ma patrie qu'en homme libre, riche, et respectable par sa position, aussi bien que par son caractère. Mes amis, et surtout Milord Sheffield, (M. Holroyd) ne veulent pas me permettre d'être heureux suivant mon goût et mes lumières. Leur prudence exige que je fasse tous mes efforts, pour obtenir un emploi très sûr à la vérité, qui me donneroit mille guinées de rente, mais qui m'enleveroit cinq jours par semaine. Je me prête à leur zèle, et je leur ai promis de ne partir qu'en automne, après avoir consacré l'été à cette dernière tentative. Le succès, cependant, est très incertain, et je ne sais si je le désire de bonne foi.

Si je parviens à me voir exilé, mon choix ne sera pas douteux. Lausanne a eu mes prémices; elle me sera toujours chère par le doux souvenir de ma jeunesse. Au bout de trente ans, je me rappelle les polissons qui sont aujourd'hui juges, les petites filles de la société du Printems, qui sont devenues grand-mères. Votre pays est charmant, et, malgré le dégoût de Jean Jacques, les mœurs, et l'esprit de ses habitans, me paroissent très assortis aux bords du lac Léman. Mais un trésor que je ne trouverois qu'à Lausanne, c'est un ami qui me convient également par les sentimens et les idées, avec qui je n'ai jamais connu un instant d'ennui, de sécheresse, ou de réserve. Autrefois dans nos libres épanchemens, nous avons cent fois fait le projet de vivre ensemble, et cent fois nous avons épluché tous les détails du Roman, avec une chaleur qui nous étonnoit nous mêmes. A présent il demeure, ou plutôt vous demeurez, (car je me lasse de ce ton étudié,) dans une maison charmante et commode; je vois d'ici mon appartement, nos salles communes, notre table, et nos promenades; mais ce marriage ne vaut rien, s'il ne convient pas également aux deux époux, et je sens combien des circonstances locales, des goûts nouveaux, de nouvelles liaisons, peuvent s'opposer aux desseins, qui nous ont paru les plus agréables dans le lointain. Pour fixer mes idées, et pour nous épargner des regrets, il faut me dévoiler avec la franchise dont je vous ai donné l'exemple, le tableau extérieur et intérieur de George Deyverdun. Mon amour est trop délicat, pour supporter l'indifférence et les égards, et je rougirois d'un bonheur dont je serois redevable, non à l'inclination, mais à la fidélité de mon ami.

PROPOSES TO SETTLE ABROAD.

Pour m'armer contre les malheurs possibles, hélas! peut-être trop vraisemblables, j'ai essayé de me détacher de la pensée de ce projet favori, et de me représenter à Lausanne votre bon voisin, sans être précisément votre commensal. Si j'y étois réduit, je ne voudrois pas tenir maison, autant par raison d'économie, que pour éviter l'ennui de manger seul. D'un autre côté, une pension ouverte, fut-elle montée sur l'ancien pied de celle de Mesery, ne conviendroit plus à mon age, ni à mon caractère. Passerois-je ma vie au milieu d'une foule de jeunes Anglois échappés du collège, moi qui aimerois Lausanne cent fois davantage, si j'y pouvois être le seul de ma nation? Il me faudroit donc une maison commode et riante, un état au dessus de la bourgeoisie, un mari instruit, une femme qui ne ressembleroit pas à Madame Pavilliard, et l'assurance d'y être reçu comme le fils unique, ou plutôt comme le frère de la famille. Pour nous arranger sans gêne, je meublerai très volontiers un joli appartement sous le même toit, ou dans le voisinage, et puisque le ménage le plus foible laisse encore de l'étoffe pour une forte pension, je ne serois pas obligé de chicaner sur les conditions pécuniaires. Si je me vois déchu de cette dernière espérance, je renoncerois en soupirant à ma seconde patrie, pour chercher un nouvel asyle, non pas à Genève, triste séjour du travail et de la discorde, mais aux bords du lac de Neufchatel, parmi les bons Savoyards de Chamberry, ou sous le beau climat des Provinces Méridionales de la France. Je finis brusquement, parceque j'ai mille choses à vous dire. Je pense que nous nous ressemblons pour la correspondance. Pour le bavardage savant ou même amical, je suis de tous les hommes le plus paresseux, mais dès qu'il s'agit d'un objet réel, d'un service essentiel, le premier courier emporte toujours ma réponse. A la fin d'un mois, je commencerai à compter les semaines, les jours, les heures. Ne me les faites pas compter trop long tems. Vale.*

461.
M. Deyverdun à M. Gibbon

Strasbourg, le 10 Juin, 1783.

*Je ne saurois vous exprimer, Monsieur et cher ami, la variété, et la vivacité, des sensations que m'a fait éprouver votre lettre. Tout cela a fini par un fond de plaisir et d'espérance qui resteront dans mon cœur, jusqu'à ce que vous les en chassiez.

Un rapport singulier de circonstances contribue à me faire espérer que nous sommes destinés à vivre quelque tems agréablement ensemble. Je ne suis pas dégoûté d'une ambition que je ne connus jamais; mais par d'autres circonstances, je me trouve dans la même situation d'embarras et d'incertitude où vous êtes aussi à cette époque. Il y a un an que votre lettre, mon cher ami, m'auroit fait plaisir sans doute, mais en ce moment, elle m'en fait bien davantage; elle vient en quelque façon à mon secours.

Depuis mon retour d'Italie, ne pouvant me déterminer à vendre ma maison, m'ennuyant d'y être seul (car je suis comme vous, Monsieur, et je déteste de manger sans compagnie) ne voulant pas louer à des étrangers, j'ai pris le parti de m'arranger assez joliment au premier étage, et de donner le second à une famille de mes amis, qui me nourrit, et que je loge. Cet arrangement a paru pendant longtems contribuer au bonheur des deux parties. Mais tout est transitoire sur cette terre. Ma maison sera vuide, selon toute apparence, sur la fin de l'été, et je me vois d'avance tout aussi embarrassé et incertain, que je l'étois il y a quelques années, ne sachant quelle nouvelle société choisir, et assez disposé à vendre enfin cette possession qui m'a causé bien des plaisirs et bien des peines. Ma maison⁴³ est donc à votre disposition pour cet automne, et vous y arriveriez comme un Dieu dans une machine qui finit l'embroglio. Voilà, quant à moi; parlons de vous maintenant avec la même sincérité.

Un mot de préambule. Quelque intéressé que je sois à votre résolution, convaincu qu'il faut aimer ses amis pour eux-mêmes, sentant d'ailleurs combien il seroit affreux pour moi de vous voir des regrets, je vous donne ici ma parole d'honneur, que mon intérêt n'influe en rien sur ce que je vais écrire, et que je ne dirai pas un mot que je ne vous disse, si l'hermite de la grotte étoit un autre que moi. Vos amis anglais vous aiment pour eux-mêmes; je ne veux moi que votre bonheur. Rappellez-vous, mon cher ami, que je vis avec peine votre entrée dans le Parlement, et je crois n'avoir été que trop bon prophète; je suis sûr que cette carrière vous a fait éprouver plus de privations que de jouissances, beaucoup plus de peines que de plaisirs; j'ai cru toujours, depuis que je vous ai connu, que vous étiez destiné à vivre heureux par les plaisirs du cabinet et de la société, que tout autre marché étoit un écart de la route du bonheur, et que ce n'étoit que les qualités réunies d'homme de lettres, et d'homme aimable de société, qui pouvoient vous procurer gloire, honneur, plaisirs, et une suite continuelle de jouissances. Au bout de quelques tours dans votre salle, vous sentirez parfaitement que j'avois bien vu, et que l'événement a justifié mes idées.

DEYVERDUN'S OFFER OF HIS HOUSE.

Lorsque j'ai appris que vous étiez Lord of Trade, j'en ai été faché; quand j'ai su que vous aviez perdu cette place, je m'en suis réjouis pour vous; quand on m'a annoncé que Milord North étoit remonté sur sa bête, j'ai cru vous voir très mal à votre aise, en croupe derrière lui, et je m'en suis affligé pour vous. Je suis donc charmé, mon cher ami, de vous savoir à pied, et je vous conseille très sincèrement de rester dans cette position, et bien loin de solliciter la place en question, de la refuser, si elle vous étoit offerte. Mille guinées vous dédommageront-elles de cinq jours pris de la semaine? Je suppose, ce que cependant j'ai peine à croire, que vous me disiez que oui: et la variété et l'inconstance continuelle de votre ministère, vous promettent-elles d'en jouir long tems constamment, et n'est-il pas plus désagréable, mon cher Monsieur, de n'avoir plus 1000 livres sterl. de rente, qu'il n'a été agréable d'en jouir? D'ailleurs ne pourrez-vous pas toujours rentrer dans la carrière, si l'ambition, ou l'envie de servir la patrie, vous reprennent; ne rentrerez-vous pas avec plus d'honneur, lorsque vos rentes étant augmentées naturellement, vous serez libre et indépendant?

En faisant cette retraite en Suisse, outre la beauté du pays, et les agrémens de la société, vous acquererez deux biens que vous avez perdus, la liberté et la richesse. Vous ne serez d'ailleurs point inutile; vos ouvrages continueront à nous éclairer, et indépendamment de vos talens, l'honnête homme, le galant homme, n'est jamais inutile.

Il me reste à vous présenter le tableau que vous trouveriez. Vous aimiez ma maison et mon jardin; c'est bien autre chose à présent. Au premier étage qui donne sur la descente d'Ouchy, je me suis arrangé un appartement qui me suffit, j'ai une chambre de domestique, deux sallons, et deux cabinets. J'ai au plein pied de la terrasse, deux autres sallons dont l'un sert en été de salle à manger, et l'autre de sallon de compagnie. J'ai fait un nouvel appartement de trois pièces dans le vuide entre la maison et la remise, en sorte que j'ai à vous offrir tout le grand appartement, qui consiste actuellement en onze pièces, tant grandes que petites, tournées au Levant et au Midi, meublées sans magnificence déplacée, mais avec une sorte d'élégance dont j'espère que vous seriez satisfait. La terrasse a peu changé; mais elle est terminée par un grand cabinet mieux proportionné que le précédent, garnie tout du long, de caisses d'orangers, &c. La treille, qui ne vous est pas indifférente, a embelli, prospéré, et règne presqu'entièrement jusqu'au bout; parvenu à ce bout, vous trouverez un petit chemin qui vous conduira à une chaumière placée dans un coin; et de ce coin, en suivant le long d'une autre route à l'anglaise, le mur d'un manège. Vous trouverez au bout, un châlet avec écurie, vacherie, petite porte, petit cabinet, petite bibliothèque, et une galerie de bois doré, d'où l'on voit tout ce qui sort et entre en ville par la porte du Chêne, et tout ce qui se passe dans ce Faubourg. J'ai acquis la vigne au-dessous du jardin; j'en ai arraché tout ce qui étoit devant la maison; j'en ai fait un tapis vert arrosé par l'eau du jet d'eau; et j'ai fait tout autour de ce petit parc, une promenade très variée par les différens points de vue et les objets même intérieurs, tantôt jardin potager, tantôt parterre, tantôt vigne, tantôt prés, puis châlet, chaumière, petite montagne; bref, les étrangers viennent le voir et l'admirent, et malgré la description pompeuse que je vous en fais, vous en serez content.

N. B. J'ai planté une quantité d'excellens arbres fruitiers.

Venons à moi; vous comprenez bien que j'ai vieilli, excepté pour la sensibilité; je suis à la mode, mes nerfs sont attaqués; je suis plus mélancolique, mais je n'ai pas plus d'humeur; vous ne souffrirez de mes maux que tout au plus négativement. Ensemble, et séparés par nos logemens, nous jouirons, vis-à-vis l'un de l'autre, de la plus grande liberté. Nous prendrons une gouvernante douce et entendue, plutôt par commodité que par nécessité; car je me chargerois sans crainte de la surintendance. J'ai fait un ménage de quatre, pendant quelque tems; j'ai fait le mien, et j'ai remarqué que cela marchoit tout seul, quand c'étoit une fois en train. Les petites gens qui n'ont que ce mérite, font grand bruit pour rien. Mon jardin nous fournira avec abondance de bons fruits et d'excellens légumes. Pour le reste de la table et de la dépense domestique, je ne demanderois pas mieux que de vous recevoir chez moi, comme vous m'avez reçu chez vous; mais nos situations sont différentes à cet égard; cependant si vous étiez plus ruiné, je vous l'offrirois sans doute, et je devrois le faire; mais avec les rentes que vous aviez, quand j'étois chez vous, en les supposant même diminuées, vous vivrez très agréablement à Lausanne. Enfin à cet égard nous nous arrangerons, comme il vous sera le plus agréable, et en proportion de nos revenus. Toujours serez vous ainsi, à ce que j'espère, plus décemment et plus comfortablement, que vous ne seriez par tout ailleurs au même prix.

SOCIETY AT LAUSANNE.

Quant à la société, quoique infiniment agréable, je commence ce chapitre par vous dire que j'éviterois de vous y inviter, si vous étiez entièrement désœuvré; les jours sont longs alors, et laissent bien du vuide; mais homme de lettres, comme vous êtes, je ne connois point de société qui vous convienne mieux. Nous aurons autour de nous un cercle, comme il seroit impossible d'en trouver ailleurs dans un aussi petit espace. Madame de Corcelles, Mademoiselle Sulens, et M. de Montolieu, (Madame est morte,) Messrs. Polier et leurs femmes, Madame de Severy, et M. et Madame de Nassau, Mademoiselle de Chandieu, Madame de St. Cierge, et M. avec leurs deux filles jolies et aimables, Mesdames de Crousaz, Polier, de Charrières, &c. font un fonds de bonne compagnie dont on ne se lasse point, et dont M. de Servan est si content qu'il regrette toujours d'être obligé de retourner dans ses terres, et ne respire que pour s'établir tout à fait à Lausanne. Il passa tout l'hyver de 1782 avec nous, et il fut, on ne peut plus, agréable. Vous trouverez les mœurs changées en bien, et plus conformes à nos ages, et à nos caractères; peu de grandes assemblées, de grands repas, mais beaucoup de petits soupers, de petites assemblées, où l'on fait ce qu'on veut, où l'on cause, lit, &c. et dont on écarte avec soin les facheux de toute espèce. Il y a le Dimanche une société, où tout ce qu'il y a d'un peu distingué en étrangères et étrangers, est invité. Cela fait des assemblées de 40 à 50 personnes, où l'on voit ce qu'on ne voit guères le reste de la semaine, et ces espèces de rout font quelquefois plaisir. Nous sommes fort dégoûtés des étrangers, surtout des jeunes gens, et nous les écartons avec soin de nos petits comités, à moins qu'ils n'ayent du mérite, ou quelques talens. A cet égard un de nos petits travers, c'est l'engouement; mais vous en profiterez, mon cher Monsieur, comme Edward Gibbon, et comme mon ami; vous serez d'abord l'homme à la mode, et je vois d'ici que vous soutiendrez fort bien ce rôle, sans vous en fâcher, dût on un peu vous surfaire. Je sens que tu me flattes, mais tu me fais plaisir, est peut-être le meilleur vers de Destouches.

Voilà donc l'hyver; l'étude le matin, quelques conversations, quand vous serez fatigué, avec quelque homme de lettres, ou amateur, ou du moins qui aura vu quelque chose; à l'heure qu'il vous plaira un dîner, point de fermier général, mais l'honnête épicurien, avec un ou deux amis quand vous voudrez: puis quelques visites, une soirée, souvent un souper. Quant à l'été, vu votre manière d'aimer la campagne, on diroit que ma remise a été faite pour vous; pendant que vous vous y promènerez en sénateur, je serai souvent en bon paysan Suisse, devant mon châlet, ou dans ma chaumière; puis nous nous rencontrerons tout à coup, et tâcherons de nous remettre au niveau l'un de l'autre. Nous fermerons nos portes à l'ordinaire, excepté aux étrangers qui passent leur chemin; mais quand nous voudrons, nous y aurons tous ceux que nous aimerons à y voir; car on ne demande pas mieux que d'y venir se réjouir. J'ai eu, un beau jour d'Avril ce printems, un déjeûner, qui m'a coûté quelques Louis, où il y avoit plus de 40 personnes, je ne sais combien de petites tables, une bonne musique au milieu du verger, et une quantité de jeunes et jolies personnes dansant des branles, et formant des chiffres en cadence; j'ai vu bien des fêtes, j'en ai peu vu de plus jolies. Quand mon parc vous ennuyera, nous aurons, ou nous louerons ensemble (et ce sera ainsi un plaisir peu cher) un cabriolet léger, avec deux chevaux gentils, et nous irons visiter nos amis dispersés dans les campagnes, qui nous recevront à bras ouverts. Vous en serez content de nos campagnes; toujours en proportion vous comprenez, et vous trouverez en général un heureux changement pour les agrémens de la société, et une sorte de recherche simple, mais élégante. Les bergères du Printems, excepté Madame de Vanberg, ne sont sans doute plus présentables, mais il y en a d'autres assez gentilles, et quoiqu'elles ne soyent pas en bien grand nombre, il y en aura toujours assez pour vous, mon cher Monsieur. Peu à peu mon imagination m'a emporte, et mon style s'égaye, comme cela nous arrivoit quelquefois dans nos châteaux en Espagne. Il est bien tems de finir cet article, résumons nous plus sérieusement.

Si vous exécutez le plan que vous avez imaginé, j'aimerois même à dire que vous embrassez, surtout d'après ce que vous marquez vous même, Si je ne consultois que mon cœur et ma raison, je romperois sur le champ cette indigne chaine, &c. Eh! que voulez-vous consulter, si ce n'est votre cœur et votre raison? Si, dis-je, vous exécutez ce plan, vous retrouverez une liberté et une indépendance, que vous n'auriez jamais dû perdre, et dont vous méritez de jouir, une aisance qui ne vous coûtera qu'un voyage de quelques jours, une tranquillité que vous ne pouvez avoir à Londres, et enfin un ami qui n'a peut-être pas été un jour sans penser à vous, et qui malgré ses défauts, ses foiblesses et son infériorité, est encore un des compagnons qui vous convient le mieux.

Il me reste à vous apprendre pourquoi je vous réponds si tard: vous savez déjà actuellement que ce n'est pas manque d'amitié et de zèle pour la chose; mais votre lettre m'a été renvoyée de Lausanne ici, à Strasbourg, et je n'ai passé qu'une poste sans y répondre, ce qui n'est pas trop, vous l'avouerez, pour un pareil bavardage. Je suis parti de Lausanne la veille de Pâques pour venir voir un M. Bourcard de Basle, fort de mes amis; il est ici auprès du Comte de Cagliostro, pour profiter de ses remèdes. Vous aurez entendu parler peut-être de cet homme extraordinaire à tous égards. Comme j'ai été assez malade tout l'hyver, je profite aussi de ses remèdes; mais comme le tems du séjour du Comte ici n'est rien moins que sûr, le mieux sera que vous m'écriviez à M. D. chez M. Bourcard du Kirshgarten, à Basle.

Vous comprenez combien à tous égards, il est nécessaire m'écrire sans perte de tems, dès que vous aurez pris une résolution. Adieu, mon cher ami.*

462.
A M. Deyverdun

HIS GRATITUDE TO DEYVERDUN.

*Je reçois votre lettre du 10 Juin, le 21 de ce mois. Aujourd'hui Mardi le 24, je mets la main à la plume (comme dit M. Fréron) pour y répondre, quoique ma missive ne puisse partir par arrangement des postes, que Vendredi prochain, 27 du courant. O merveille de la grace efficace! Elle n'agit pas moins puissamment sur vous, et moyennant le secours toujours prêt, et toujours prompt de nos couriers, un mois nous suffit pour la demande et la réponse. Je remercie mille fois le génie de l'amitié, qui m'a poussé, après mille efforts inutiles, à vous écrire enfin au moment le plus critique et le plus favorable. Jamais démarche n'a répondu si parfaitement à tous mes vœux et à toutes mes espérances. Je comptois sans doute sur la durée et la vérité de vos sentimens; mais j'ignorois (telle est la foiblesse humaine) jusqu'à quel point ils avoient pu être attiédis par le tems et l'éloignement; et je savois encore moins l'état actuel de votre santé, de votre fortune et de vos liaisons, qui auroient pu opposer tant d'obstacles à notre réunion.

Vous m'écrivez, vous m'aimez toujours; vous désirez avec zèle, avec ardeur, de réaliser nos anciens projets; vous le pouvez, vous le voulez; vous m'offrez dès l'automne votre maison, et quelle terrasse! votre société, et quelle société! L'arrangement nous convient à tous les deux; je retrouve à la fois le compagnon de ma jeunesse, un sage conseiller, et un peintre qui fait représenter et exagérer même les objets les plus rians. Ces exagérations me font pour le moins autant de plaisir que la simple vérité. Si votre portrait étoit tout à fait ressemblant, ces agrémens n'existeroient que hors de nous mêmes, et j'aime encore mieux les retrouver dans la vivacité de votre cœur et de votre imagination. Ce n'est pas que je ne reconnoisse un grand fond de vérité dans le tableau de Lausanne; je connois le lieu de la scène, je me transporte en idée sur notre terrasse, je vois ces côteaux, ce lac, ces montagnes, ouvrage favoris de la nature, et je conçois sans peine les embellissemens que votre goût s'est plu y ajouter. Je me rappelle depuis vingt ou trente ans les mœurs, l'esprit, l'aisance de la société, et je comprends que ce véritable ton de la bonne compagnie se perpétue, et s'épure de père en fils, ou plutôt de mère en fille; car il m'a toujours paru qu'à Lausanne, aussi bien qu'en France, les femmes sont très supérieures aux hommes. Dans un pareil séjour, je craindrois la dissipation bien plus que l'ennui, et le tourbillon de Lausanne étonneroit un philosophe accoutumé depuis tant d'années à la tranquillité de Londres. Vous êtes trop instruit pour regarder ce propos, comme une mauvaise plaisanterie; c'est dans les détroits qu'on est entrainé par la rapidité des courans: il n'y en a point en pleine mer. Dès qu'on ne recherche plus les plaisirs bruyans, et qu'on s'affranchit volontiers des devoirs pénibles, la liberté d'un simple particulier se fortifie par l'immensité de la ville. Quant à moi, l'application à mon grand ouvrage, l'habitude, et la récompense du travail, m'ont rendu plus studieux, plus sédentaire, plus ami de la retraite. La Chambre des Communes et les grands dîners exigent beaucoup de tems; et la tempérance d'un repas anglois vous permet de goûter de cinq ou six vins différens, et vous ordonne de boire une bouteille de claret après le dessert. Mais enfin je ne soupe jamais, je me couche de fort bonne heure, je reçois peu de visites, les matinées sont longues, les étés sont libres, et dès que je ferme ma porte, je suis oublié du monde entier. Dans une société plus bornée et plus amicale, les démarches sont publiques, les droits sont réciproques, l'on dîne de bonne heure, on se goûte trop pour ne pas passer l'après-midi ensemble; on soupe, on veille, et les plaisirs de la soirée ne laissent pas de déranger le repos de la nuit, et le travail du lendemain.

HIS HESITATION TO ACCEPT.

Quel est cependant le résultat de ces plaintes? c'est seulement que la mariée est trop belle, et que j'ose me servir de l'excuse honnête de la santé et du privilège d'un homme de lettres; il ne tiendra qu'à moi de modérer un peu l'excès de mes jouissances. Pour cet engouement que vous m'annoncez, et qui a toujours été le défaut des peuples les plus spirituels, je l'ai déjà éprouvé sur un plus grand théâtre. Il y a six ans que l'ami de Madame Necker fut reçu à Paris, comme celui de George Deyverdun pourroit l'être à Lausanne. Je ne connois rien de plus flatteur que cet accueil favorable d'un public poli et éclairé. Mais cette faveur, si douce pour l'étranger, n'est-elle pas un peu dangereuse pour l'habitant exposé à voir flétrir ses lauriers, par la faute ou par l'inconstance de ses juges? Non; on se soutient toujours, peut être pas précisément au même point d'élévation. A l'abri de trois gros volumes in-quarto en langue étrangère, encore ce qui n'est pas un petit avantage, je conserverai toujours la réputation littéraire, et cette réputation donnera du relief aux qualités sociales, si l'on trouve l'historien sans travers, sans affectation et sans prétentions.

Je serai donc charmé et content de votre société, et j'aurois pu dire en deux mots, ce qui j'ai bavardé en deux pages; mais il y a tant de plaisir à bavarder avec un ami! car enfin je possède à Lausanne un véritable ami; et les simples connoissances remplaceront sans beaucoup de peine, tout ce qui s'appelle liaison, et même amitié, dans ce vaste désert de Londres. Mais au moment où j'écris, je vois de tous côtés une foule d'objets dont la perte sera bien plus difficile à réparer. Vous connoissiez ma bibliothèque; mais je suis en état de vous rendre le propos de votre maison c'est bien autre chose à cette heure; formée peu à peu, mais avec beaucoup de soin et de dépense, elle peut se nommer aujourd'hui un beau cabinet de particulier. Non content de remplir à rangs redoublés la meilleure pièce qui lui étoit destinée, elle s'est débordée dans la chambre sur la rue, dans votre ancienne chambre à coucher, dans la mienne, dans tous les recoins de la maison de Bentinck-street, et jusques dans une chaumière que je me suis donnée à Hampton Court.

 
J'ai mille courtisans rangés autour de moi:
Ma retraite est mon Louvre, et j'y commande en roi.
 

Le fonds est de la meilleure compagnie Grecque, Latine, Italienne, Françoise, et Angloise, et les auteurs les moins chers à l'homme de goût, des ecclésiastiques, des Byzantins, des Orientaux, sont les plus nécessaires à l'historien de la Décadence et de la Chute, &c. Vous ne sentez que trop bien le désagrément de laisser, et l'impossibilité de transporter cinq ou six milles volumes, d'autant plus que le ciel n'a pas voulu faire de la Suisse un pays maritime. Cependant mon zèle pour la réussite de nos projets communs, me fait imaginer que ces obstacles pourront s'applanir, et que je puis adoucir ou supporter ces privations douloureuses. Les bons auteurs classiques, la bibliothèque des nations, se retrouvent dans tous les pays. Lausanne n'est pas dépourvu de livres, ni de politesse, et j'ai dans l'esprit qu'on pourroit acquérir pour un certain tems, quelque bibliothèque d'un vieillard ou d'un mineur, dont la famille ne voudroit pas se défaire entièrement. Quant aux outils de mon travail, nous commencerons par examiner l'état de nos richesses; après quoi il faudroit faire un petit calcul du prix, du poids et de la rareté de chaque ouvrage, pour juger de ce qu'il seroit nécessaire de transporter de Londres, et de ce qu'on acheteroit plus commodément en Suisse; à l'égard de ces frais, on devroit les envisager comme les avances d'une manufacture transplantée en pays étranger, et dont on espère retirer dans la suite un profit raisonnable. Malheureusement votre bibliothèque publique, en y ajoutant même celle de M. de Bochat, est assez piteuse; mais celles de Berne et de Basle sont très nombreuses, et je compterois assez sur la bonhommie Helvétique, pour espérer que, moyennant des recommendations et des cautions, il me seroit permis d'en tirer les livres dont j'aurois essentiellement besoin. Vous êtes très bien placé pour prendre les informations, et pour faire les démarches convenables; mais vous voyez du moins combien je me retourne de tous les côtés, pour esquiver la difficulté la plus formidable.

HIS FRIEND AND VALET.

Venons à présent à des objets moins relevés, mais très importans à l'existence et au bien-être de l'animal, le logement, les domestiques, et la table. Pour mon appartement particulier, une chambre à coucher, avec un grand cabinet et une antichambre, auroient suffi à tous mes besoins; mais si vous pouvez vous en passer, je me promenerai avec plaisir dans l'immensité de vos onze pièces, qui s'accommoderont sans doute aux heures et aux saisons différentes. L'article des domestiques renferme une assez forte difficulté, sur laquelle je dois vous consulter. Vous connoissez, et vous estimez Caplen mon valet de chambre, maître d'hotel, &c. qui a été nourri dans notre maison, et qui comptoit d'y finir ses jours. Depuis votre départ, ses talens et ses vertus se sont dévelloppés de plus en plus, et je le considère bien moins sur le pied d'un domestique, que sur celui d'un ami. Malheureusement il ne sait que l'Anglois, et jamais il n'apprendra de langue étrangère. Il m'accompagna, il y a six ans, dans mon voyage à Paris, mais il rapporta fidèlement à Londres toute l'ignorance, et tous les préjugés d'un bon patriote. A Lausanne il me coûteroit beaucoup, et à l'exception du service personnel, il ne nous seroit que d'une très petite utilité. Cependant je supporterois volontiers cette dépense, mais je suis très persuadé que, si son attachement le portoit à me suivre, il s'ennuyeroit à mourir dans un pays où tout lui seroit étranger et désagréable. Il faudroit donc me détacher d'un homme dont je connois le zèle, la fidélité, rompre tout d'un coup de petites habitudes qui sont liées avec le bien-être journalier et momentané, et se résoudre à lui substituer un visage nouveau, peut-être un mauvais sujet, toujours quelque aventurier Suisse pris sur le pavé de Londres. Vous rappellez-vous un certain George Suess qui a fait autrefois avec moi le voyage de France et d'Italie? Je le crois marié et établi à Lausanne; s'il vit encore, si vous pouvez l'engager à se rendre ici, pour me ramener en Suisse, la compagnie d'un bon et ancien serviteur ne laisseroit pas d'adoucir la chute, et il resteroit peut-être auprès de moi, jusqu'à ce que nous eussions choisi un jeune homme du pays, adroit, modeste et bien élevé, à qui je ferois un parti avantageux.

Les autres domestiques, gouvernantes, laquais, cuisinière, &c. se prennent et se renvoyent sans difficulté. Un article bien plus important, c'est notre table, car enfin nous ne sommes pas assez hermites, pour nous contenter des légumes et des fruits de votre jardin, tout excellens qu'ils sont; mais je n'ai presque rien à ajouter à l'honnêteté de vos propos, qui me donnent beaucoup plus de plaisir que de surprise. Si je me trouvois sans fortune, au lieu de rougir des bienfaits de l'amitié, j'accepterois vos offres aussi simplement que vous les faites. Mais nous ne sommes pas réduits à ce point, et vous comprenez assez qu'une déconfiture angloise laisse encore une fortune fort décente au Pays de Vaud, et pour vous dire quelque chose de plus précis, je dépenserois sans peine et sans inconvénient cinq ou six cens Louis. Vous connoissez le résultat aussi bien que les détails d'un ménage; en supposant une petite table de deux philosophes Epicuriens, quatre, cinq, ou six domestiques, des amis assez souvent, des repas assez rarement, beaucoup de sensualité, et peu de luxe, à combien estimez-vous en gros la dépense d'un mois et d'une année? Le partage que vous avez déjà fait, me paroît des plus raisonnables; vous me logez, et je vous nourris. A votre calcul, j'ajouterois mon entretien personnel, habits, plaisirs, gages de domestiques, &c. et je verrois d'une manière assez nette, l'ensemble de mon petit établissement.

HIS HOPES OF A POLITICAL PLACE.

Après avoir essuyé tant de détails minutieux, le cher lecteur s'imagine sans doute que la résolution de me fixer pendant quelque tems aux bords du Lac Léman, est parfaitement décidée. Hélas! rien n'est moins vrai; mais je me suis livré au charme délicieux de contempler, de sonder, de palper ce bonheur, dont je sens tout le prix, qui est à ma portée, et auquel j'aurai peut-être la bêtise de renoncer. Vous avez raison de croire, mais vous ignorez jusqu'à quel point vous l'avez, que ma carrière politique a été plus semée d'épines que de roses. Eh! quel objet, quel motif, pourroit me consoler de l'ennui des affaires, et de la honte de la dépendance? La gloire? Comme homme de lettres, j'en jouis, comme orateur je ne l'aurai jamais, et le nom des simples soldats est oublié dans les victoires aussi bien que dans les défaites. Le devoir? Dans ces combats à l'aveugle, où les chefs ne cherchent que leur avantage particulier, il y a toujours à parier que les subalternes feront plus de mal que de bien. L'attachement personnel? Les ministres sont rarement dignes de l'inspirer; jusqu'à présent Lord North n'a pas eu à se plaindre de moi, et si je me retire du Parlement, il lui sera très aisé d'y substituer un autre muet, tout aussi affidé que son ancien serviteur. Je suis intimément convaincu, et par la raison, et par le sentiment, qu'il n'y a point de parti, qui me convienne aussi bien que de vivre avec vous, et auprès de vous à Lausanne; et si je parviens à la place (Commissioner of the Excise or Customs) où je vise, il y aura toutes les semaines cinq longues matinées, qui m'avertiront de la folie de mon choix. Vous vous trompez à la vérité à l'égard de l'instabilité de ces emplois; ils sont presque les seuls qui ne ressentent jamais des révolutions du ministère.

Cependant si cette place s'offroit bientôt, je n'aurois pas le bon sens et le courage de la refuser. Quels autres conseillers veux-je prendre, sinon mon cœur et ma raison? Il en est de puissans et toujours écoutés: les égards, la mauvaise honte, tous mes amis, ou soi-disant tels, s'écrieront que je suis un homme perdu, ruiné, un fou qui se dérobe à ses protecteurs, un misanthrope qui s'exile au bout du monde, et puis les exagérations sur tout ce qui seroit fait en ma faveur, si surement, si promptement, si libéralement. Mylord Sheffield opinera à me faire interdire et enfermer; mes deux tantes et ma belle mère se plaindront que je les quitte pour jamais, &c. Et l'embarras de prendre mon bonnet de nuit, comme disoit le sage Fontenelle, lorsqu'il n'etoit question que de decoucher, combien de bonnets de nuit ne me faudra-t-il pas prendre, et les prendre tout seul? car tout le monde, amis, parens, domestiques, s'opposera à ma fuite. Voilà à la vérité des obstacles assez peu redoutables, et en les décrivant, je sens qu'ils s'affoiblissent dans mon esprit. Grace à ce long bavardage vous connoissez mon intérieur, comme moi même, c'est à dire assez mal; mais cette incertitude, très amicale pour moi, seroit très facheuse pour vous. Votre réponse me parviendra vers la fin de Juillet, et huit jours après, je vous promets une réplique nette et décisive: je pars ou je reste. Si je pars, ce sera au milieu de Septembre; je mangerai les raisins de votre treille les premiers jours d'Octobre, et vous aurez encore le tems de me charger de vos commissions. Ne me dites plus, Monsieur, et très cher ami; le premier est froid, le second est superflu.*

463.
M. Deyverdun à M. Gibbon

*Me voilà un peu embarrassé actuellement; je ne dois vous appeller ni Monsieur, ni ami. Eh bien! vous saurez qu'étant parti Samedi de Strasbourg, pendant que je venois ici, votre seconde lettre alloit là, et qu'ainsi je reçus votre troisième, Dimanche, et votre seconde, hier. La mention que vous y faisiez du Suisse George, dont je n'ai pu rien trouver dans la première, m'a fait comprendre qu'il y en avoit une seconde, et j'ai cru devoir attendre un courier, la troisième n'exigeant pas de réponse.

Pour votre parole, permettez que je vous en dispense encore, et même jusqu'au dernier jour, je sens bien qu'un procédé contraire vous conviendroit; mais certes il ne me convient pas du tout. Ceci, comme vous le dites, est une espèce de mariage, et pensez vous que malgré les engagemens les plus solemnels, je n'eusse pas reconduit chez elle, du pied des autels, la femme la plus aimable qui m'eut temoigné des regrets? Jamais je ne me consolerois, si je vous voyois mécontent dans la suite, et dans le cas de me faire des reproches. C'est à vous à faire, si vous croyez nécessaire, des démarches de votre côté, qui fortifient votre résolution; pour moi, je n'en ferai point d'essentielles, jusqu'à ce que j'aye reçu encore une lettre de vous. Après ce petit préambule, parlons toujours comme si l'affaire étoit décidée, et repassons votre lettre. Tout ce que vous dites des grandes et petites villes, est très vrai, et votre comparaison des détroits et de la pleine mer, est on ne peut pas plus juste et agréable; mais enfin, comme on fait son lit, on se couche, disoit Sancho Pancha d'agréable mémoire, et qui peut mieux faire son lit à sa guise qu'un étranger, qui, n'ayant ni devoirs d'état ni de sang à remplir, peut vivre entièrement isolé, sans que personne y puisse trouver à redire? Moi même, bourgeois et citoyen de la ville, je suis presqu'entièrement libre. L'été, par exemple, je déteste de m'enfermer le soir dans des chambres chaudes, pour faire une partie. Eh bien! on m'a persécuté un peu la première année; à présent on me laisse en repos. Il y aura sans doute quelque changement dans votre manière de vivre: mais il me semble qu'on se fait aisément à cela. Les dîners, surtout en femmes, sont très rares; les soupers peu grands; on reste plutôt pour être ensemble, que pour manger, et plusieurs personnes ne s'asseyent point. Je crois, tout compté et rabattu, que vouz aurez encore plus de tems pour le cabinet qu'à Londres; on sort peu le matin, et quand nos amis communs viendront chez moi, et vous demanderont, je leur dirai; "ce n'est pas un oisif comme vous autres, il travaille dans son cabinet," et ils se tairont respectueusement.

Pour les bibliothèques publiques, votre idée ne pourroit, je pense, se réaliser pour un lecteur ou même un écrivain ordinaire, mais un homme qui joue un rôle dans la république des lettres, un homme aimé et considéré, trouvera, je m'imagine, bien des facilités; d'ailleurs, j'ai de bons amis à Berne, et je prendrai ici des informations.

Passons à la table. Si j'étois à Lausanne, cet article seroit plus sûr, je pourrois revoir mes papiers, consulter; j'ai une chienne de mémoire. A vue de pays cela pourra aller de 20 à 30 Louis par mois, plus ou moins, vous sentez, suivant la friandise, et le plus ou moins de convives. Marquez moi dans votre première combien vous coûte le vôtre.

SOCIAL HABITS AT LAUSANNE.

Je sens fort bien tous les bonnets de nuit: point de grands changemens sans embarras, même sans regrets; vous en aurez quelquefois sans doute: par exemple, si votre salle à manger, votre salle de compagnie, sont plus riantes, vous perdrez pour le vase de la bibliothèque. Pour ce qui est des représentations, des discours au moins inutiles, il me semble que le mieux seroit de masquer vos grandes opérations, de ne parler que d'une course, d'une visite chez moi, de six mois ou plus ou moins. Vous feriez bien, je pense, d'aller chez mon ami Louis Teissier; c'est un brave et honnête homme, qui m'est attaché, qui aime notre pays; il vous donnera tout plein de bons conseils avec zèle, et vous gardera le secret.

Vous aurez quelquefois à votre table un poëte; – oui, Monsieur, un poëte: – nous en avons un enfin. Procurez vous un volume 8vo. Poësies Helvétiennes, imprimées l'année passée chez Mouser, à Lausanne.⁴⁴ Vouz trouverez entr'autres dans l'épitre au jardinier de la grotte, votre ami et votre parc. Toute la prose est de votre très humble serviteur, qui désire qu'elle trouve grace devant vous.

Le Comte de Cagliostro⁴⁵ a fait un séjour à Londres. On ne sait qui il est, d'où il est, d'où il tire son argent; il exerce gratis ses talens pour la médecine; il a fait des cures admirables; mais c'est d'ailleurs le composé le plus étrange. J'ai cessé de prendre ses remèdes qui m'échauffoient – l'homme d'ailleurs me gâtoit le médecin. Je suis revenu à Basle avec mon ami. Adieu; récrivez moi le plutôt possible.*

464.
A. M. Deyverdun

Hampton Court, ce 1 Juillet, 1783.

HIS DECISION TO LEAVE ENGLAND.

*Après avoir pris ma résolution, l'honneur, et ce qui vaut encore mieux l'amitié, me défendent de vous laisser un moment dans l'incertitude. Je pars. Je vous en donne ma parole, et comme je suis bien aise de me fortifier d'un nouveau lien, je vous prie très sérieusement de ne pas m'en dispenser. Ma possession, sans doute, ne vaut pas celle de Julie; mais vous serez plus inexorable que St. Preux. Je ne sens plus qu'une vive impatience pour notre réunion. Mais le mois d'Octobre est encore loin; 92 jours, et nous aurons tout le tems de prendre, et de nous donner des éclaircissemens dont nous avons besoin. Après un mûr examen, je renonce au voyage de George Suess, qui me paroît incertain, cher et difficile. Après tout mon valet de chambre et ma bibliothèque sont les deux articles les plus embarrassans. Si je ne retenois pas ma plume, je remplirois sans peine la feuille; mais il ne faut pas passer du silence à un babil intarissable. Seulement si je connois le Comte de Cagliostro, cet homme extraordinaire, &c. Savez vous le Latin? oui, sans doute; mais faites, comme si je ne le savois point. Quand retournez vous à Lausanne vous même?* Je pense que vous y trouverez une petite bête, bien aimable mais tant soit peu mechante, qui se nomme My lady Elizabeth Foster, parlez lui de moi, mais parlez en avec discretion, elle a des correspondences partout. *Vale.*

465.
To Lord Sheffield

July 10th, 1783.

*You will read the following lines with more patience and attention than you would probably give to a hasty conference, perpetually interrupted by the opening of the door, and perhaps by the quickness of our own tempers. I neither expect nor desire an answer on a subject of extreme importance to myself, but which friendship alone can render interesting to you. We shall soon meet at Sheffield.

It is needless to repeat the reflections which we have sometimes debated together, and which I have often seriously weighed in my silent solitary walks. Notwithstanding your active and ardent spirit, you must allow that there is some perplexity in my present situation, and that my future prospects are distant and cloudy. I have lived too long in the world to entertain a very sanguine idea of the friendship or zeal of Ministerial patrons; and we are all sensible how much the powers of patronage are reduced.*

The source of pensions is absolutely stopped, and a double list of candidates is impatient and clamourous for half the number of desirable places. A seat at the board of customs or excise was certainly the most practicable attempt, but how far are we advanced in the pursuit? Could we obtain (it was indeed unprecedented) an extraordinary commission? Have we received any promise of the first vacancy? how often is the execution of such a promise delayed to a second or third opportunity? When will those vacancies happen? Incumbents are sometimes very tough. Of the Excise I know less, but I am sure that the door of the Customs (except when it was opened for Sir Stanier by a pension of equal value) has been shut, at least during the last three years. In the meanwhile I should be living in a state of anxiety and dependence, working in the illiberal service of the House of Commons, my seat in Parliament sinking in value every day and my expenses very much exceeding my annual income. *At the end of that time, or rather long before that time (for their lives are not worth a year's purchase), our ministers are kicked down stairs, and I am left their disinterested friend to fight through another opposition, and to expect the fruits of another revolution.

But I will take a more favourable supposition, and conceive myself, in six months, firmly seated at the board of Customs; before the end of the next six months, I should infallibly hang myself. Instead of regretting my disappointment, I rejoyce in my escape; as I am satisfied that no salary could pay me for the irksomeness of attendance, and the drudgery of business so repugnant to my taste, (and I will dare to say) so unworthy of my character. Without looking forwards to the possibility, still more remote, of exchanging that laborious office for a smaller annuity, there is surely another plan, more reasonable, more simple, and more pleasant; a temporary retreat to a quiet and less expensive scene. In a four years' residence at Lausanne, I should live within my income, save, and even accumulate, my ready money; finish my history, an object of profit as well as fame, expect the contingencies of elderly lives, and return to England at the age of fifty, to form a lasting independent establishment, without courting the smiles of a minister, or apprehending the downfall of a party. Such have been my serious sober reflections.

PLAN OF JOINING DEYVERDUN.

Yet I much question whether I should have found courage to follow my reason and my inclination, if a friend had not stretched his hand to draw me out of the dirt. The twentieth of last May I wrote to my friend Deyverdun, after a long interval of silence, to expose my situation, and to consult in what manner I might best arrange myself at Lausanne. From his answer, which I received about a fortnight ago, I have the pleasure to learn, that his heart and his house are both open for my reception; that a family which he had lodged for some years is about to leave him, and that at no other time my company would have been so acceptable and convenient. I shall step, at my arrival, into an excellent apartment and a delightful situation; the fair division of our expences will render them very moderate, and I shall pass my time with the companion of my youth, whose temper and studies have always been congenial to my own. I have given him my word of honour to be at Lausanne in the beginning of October, and no power or persuasion can divert me from this IRREVOCABLE resolution, which I am every day proceeding to execute.

I wish, but I scarcely hope, to convince you of the propriety of my scheme;⁴⁶ but at least you will allow, that when we are not able to prevent the follies of our friends, we should strive to render them as easy and harmless as possible. The arrangement of my house, furniture and books will be left to meaner hands, but it is to your zeal and judgment alone that I can trust the more important disposal of Lenborough and Lymington. On these subjects we may go into a Committee at Sheffield-place, but you know it is the rule of a Committee not to hear any arguments against the principle of the bill. At present I shall only observe, that neither of these negociations ought to detain me here; the former may be dispatched as well, the latter much better, in my absence. Vale.*

466.
To his Stepmother

Bentinck Street, July 26th, 1783.

My Dear Madam,

You have so long been acquainted with my indifference or rather dislike to the house of Commons, that you will not be much surprized, that I should entertain a thought or indeed a resolution of vacating my seat. Your vain hope (a kind and a friendly vanity) of my making a distinguished figure in that assembly has long since been extinct, and you are now convinced by repeated experience that my reputation must be derived solely from my pen. A seat in parliament I can only value as it is connected with some official situation of emolument: that connection which has fortunately subsisted about three years is now dissolved, and I do not see any probability of its being speedily restored. Whatever may be the wishes or sentiments of my political friends, their patronage has been extremely circumscribed by the double list of candidates, the reduction of places and the suppression of pensions. The most solid and attainable things (at the boards of Customs or Excise) are incompatible with a seat in parliament, and my prævious retreat (by taking from them a motive of delay) will promote rather than obstruct the accomplishment of my hopes and their promises. Thus restored for some time to the enjoyment of freedom, I propose to spend it in the society of my friend Deyverdun at Lausanne, who presses me in the kindest manner to visit him in the house and garden which he possesses in the most beautiful situation in the World.

I intend going about the middle of September, and though it is not possible to define precisely the time of my absence, it is not likely that I shall pass less than a year in Switzerland. I shall exchange the most unwholesome air (that of the house of Commons) for the purest and most salubrious, the heat and hurry of party for a cool litterary repose; and I have little doubt that this excursion, which will amuse me by the change of objects, will have a lasting and beneficial effect on my health. The lease of my house expires next Christmas, and I shall take the opportunity of disengaging myself from an useless expence, and of removing to a hired room my books, and such part of my furniture as may be worth keeping. You will be pleased to hear that the faithful Caplen accompanies me abroad.

HIS DEPARTURE A NECESSITY.

Such is the light in which my journey should be represented to those friends to whom it may be advisable to say any thing of my motives. Every circumstance which I have already stated is strictly true, but you will too easily conceive that it is not the whole truth: that this step is dictated by the hard law of æconomy or rather of necessity, and that the moment of my return will not entirely depend on my own choice. You have not forgot how a similar intention some years ago was superseded by my appointment to the board of trade. Perhaps it would have been wiser if I had left England immediately after the loss of my place, and the sense of this imprudent delay urges me more strongly every day to avoid the difficulties of a still longer procrastination. By this resolution I shall deliver myself at once from the heavy expence of a London life, my friend Deyverdun and myself shall join in a moderate though elegant establishment at Lausanne; and I can wait without inconvenience for one of the events, which may enable me to revisit with pleasure and credit my country, and the person, whom in that country, I most value, I mean yourself. Allow me to add (though I know such thoughts will be absorbed in your mind by higher and more tender sentiments), yet allow me to add that at the stated days of Midsummer and Christmas, you may regularly draw for your half year's annuity on Messieurs Gosling in Fleet Street, and that effectual steps shall be taken to secure you from a possibility of disappointment. It would not be my absence, but my stay in England that could create any delay or difficulty on that subject.

And now, my dear madam, let me submit to your consideration and final decision, a question which for my own part I am unable to determine, whether I shall visit Bath before I leave England. If I consulted only my wishes, the mere expence and trouble of the journey would be obstacles of small account, but I much fear, that on this occasion, prudence will dissuade what inclination would prompt, and that a meeting of three or four days (for it could be no more) would tend rather to embitter than to alleviate our unavoidable separation. If you decide for my coming down, it will probably take place between the 20th and 30th of next month, and I must beg that little, or nothing, may be said on the subject of my approaching journey, and that we may (silently) turn our thoughts to the happiness of seeing each other, after an interval of time, less considerable perhaps than those which commonly elapse between my Bath expeditions.

I am, my Dear Madam,

Ever most truly yours,

E. G.

467.
To Lord Sheffield

Thursday night, 1783.

Elmsley⁴⁷ and self have been hard at work this afternoon, and about ten quintals are preparing for foreign service. Can you save me ten pounds per annum, such is the rent of a good and safe room in the Strand? You offered me a room in Downing Street (did you mean an entire room?) for plate, china, &c. Is it the apartment on the ground floor from whence you was expelled by odours? If you can lodge my books you must give me a line per Saturday's coach, with a mandate to the maid that she may not scruple to shew and receive. Time presses and Elmsley is on the wing. Pelham⁴⁸ is appointed Irish Secretary in the room of Wyndham⁴⁹ who pleads bad health, but who had written very indiscreet letters at the general election. Adieu. I want to hear of My Lady, her tender frame has been too much agitated.

468.
To his Stepmother

Sheffield-place, August 8th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

HIS REASONS FOR LEAVING LONDON.

Your truly maternal letters (which I have repeatedly perused) have agitated my mind with a variety of pleasing and painful sensations. I am grieved that you should contemplate my departure in so melancholy a light, but I shall always revere the affection which prompts your anxiety, and magnifies the evil. I receive with more gratitude than surprise your generous offer of devoting yourself and so large a portion of your income to my relief, and I am concerned to find on calmer reflection that such a project is attended with insuperable difficulties. After the mutual and unpleasant sacrifice of our habits and inclinations, I could not, even with your assistance, reduce the expence of a London life to the level of my present income, and the two hundred a year which you so nobly propose would be exhausted by the single article of a Coach.

With regard to the delays which you suggest, you may be assured that I shall take no material step without consideration and advice. Had I staid in London, I should have removed from Bentinck Street. On my return another house may at any time be procured, and I shall carefully preserve the most valuable part of my furniture, plate, linnen, china, beds, &c. My seat in Parliament cannot be vacated till the next Session, and I shall leave the disposal of it to our friend Lord Sheffield, in whose zeal and discretion we may safely confide. On his own account he regrets my departure, but he has been forced to give a full though reluctant approbation to my design. I wish it were in my power to remove all your kind apprehensions which relate to the length of my absence and the choice of my residence. I certainly do not entertain a very sanguine idea of political friendship, but I am convinced that such persons as really wish to serve me will not be discouraged by my temporary retreat to Switzerland. In the leisure and quiet which I shall enjoy at Lausanne, I shall prosecute the continuation of my history, and the care of publishing a work, from whence I may expect both honour and advantage, will secure, within a reasonable space, my return to England. Your idea of the climate of Switzerland is by many degrees too formidable; the air though sometimes keen, is pure and wholesome, the Gout is much less frequent on the Continent than in our Island, and the provoking luxury of London dinners is much more likely to feed that distemper, than the temperance and tranquillety of Lausanne. In the society of my friend Deyverdun, I hope to spend some time with comfort and propriety, but my affections are still fixed in England, and it will be my wish and endeavour to shorten the term of this necessary separation, and in the meanwhile you may depend on the most regular communication of every circumstance that affects my health and happiness.

I am, my Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

I have some questions to ask you about the disposal of certain pieces of furniture, such as the Clock and Carpet, but I would not mix those trifles with the more serious purpose of this letter.

469.
To Lord Sheffield

Monday, August 18th, 1783.

*In the preparations of my journey I have not felt any circumstance more deeply than the kind concern of Lady S[heffield], and the silent grief of Mrs. Porten. Yet the age of my friends makes a very essential difference. I can scarcely hope ever to see my aunt again; but I flatter myself, that in less than two years, my sister⁵⁰ will make me a visit, and that in less than four, I shall return it with a chearful heart at Sheffield-place. Business advances; this morning my books were shipped for Rouen, and will reach Lausanne almost as soon as myself. On Thursday morning the bulk of the library moves from Bentinck-street to Downing-street. I shall escape from the noise to Hampton Court, and spend three or four days in taking leave. I want to know your precise motions, what day you arrive in town, whether you visit Lord Beauchamp before the races, &c. I am now impatient to be gone, and shall only wait for a last interview with you. Your medley of Judges, Advocates, politicians, &c., is rather useful than pleasant. Town is a vast solitude. Adieu.*

470.
To Lord Sheffield

Bentinck-street, Wednesday night, August 20th, 1783.

*I am now concluding one of the most unpleasant days of my life. Will the day of our meeting again be accompanied with proportionable satisfaction? The business of preparation will serve to agitate and divert my thoughts; but I do not like your brooding over melancholy ideas in your solitude, and I heartily wish that both you and my dear Lady S. would immediately go over and pass a week at Brighton. Such is our imperfect nature, that dissipation is a far more efficacious remedy than reflection. At all events, let me hear from you soon. I have passed the evening at home, without gaining any intelligence.*

471.
To Lord Sheffield

Friday, August 22nd, 1783.

PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE.

*I am astonished with your apparition and flight, and am at a loss to conjecture the mighty and sudden business of *Coventry,* which could not be delayed till next week. Timeo *Conways,* their selfish cunning, and your sanguine unsuspecting spirit. Not dreaming of your arrival, I thought it unnecessary to apprize you, that I delayed Hampton to this day; on Monday I shall return, and will expect you Tuesday evening, either in Bentinck or Downing-street, as you like best. Yon have seen the piles of learning accumulated in your parlour; the transportation will be atchieved to-day, and Bentinck Street is already reduced to a light, ignorant habitation, which I shall inhabit till about the 1st of September; four days must be allowed for clearing and packing; these I shall spend in Downing-street, and after seeing you a moment on your return, I shall start about Saturday the 6th. London is a desert, and life, without books, business, or society, will be somewhat tedious. From this state, you will judge that your plan coincides very well, only I think you should give me the whole of Wednesday in Bentinck-street. With regard to Bushy, perhaps as a compliment to Lord L. you had better defer it till your return.⁵¹*

You have not forgot the model of a letter for Sainsbury, Way, Hearne, &c., with the 200 Guineas reward for the proper sale of Lenborough. I return your three letters with a fourth not less curious, which I have not yet answered. Mrs. G.'s pride is not inferior to her tenderness. *I admire Gregory Way,⁵² and should envy him, if I did not possess a disposition somewhat similar to his own. My lady will be reposed and restored at Brighton; the torrent of Lords, Judges, &c. a proper remedy for you, was a medicine ill-suited to her constitution. I tenderly embrace her.*

472.
To his Stepmother

Hampton Court, August 25th, 1783.

My dearest Madam,

I can easily attribute your silence to the true motive, the difficulty (of which I am likewise conscious) of our present situation. The subject which occupies our minds has been reciprocally exhausted: it is unpleasant to resume a melancholy train of ideas, and it is impossible to write with ease and chearfullness on indifferent subjects. Yet I almost flatter myself that if you are not satisfied with my reasons, you are at least disposed to acquiesce in a resolution which is the offspring of necessity, and will I trust be the parent of happiness. I repeat my promise that distance shall only render me a more punctual correspondent, and I must again intreat that you would turn your thoughts from the moment of our separation to that of our reunion.

After sending two boxes of books to Lausanne I have deposited the remainder of my library in Lord Sheffield's capacious mansion in Downing Street, whither I shall send next week my plate, linnen, beds, &c. I expect your commands with regard to the Clock and Carpet: if you have not room or occasion for them at Bath, I should probably dispose of the first, as it might be damaged by neglect, but the latter I shall carefully preserve both as your workmanship and as your gift. If among the China, &c. there should be any things you would desire to select, Lord S., their Guardian and mine, is instructed to obey your commands. As far as I can calculate I shall be ready to set out about the 6th of September, the end of next week, but I propose writing to you again before my departure.

I am, my Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

473.
To Lady Sheffield

Bentinck Street, August 30th, 1783.

My dear Friend,

FAREWELL TO SHEFFIELD PLACE.

*For the names of Sheffelina, &c. are too playful for the serious temper of my mind. In the whole period of my life I do not recollect a day in which I felt more unpleasant sensations, than that on which I took my leave of Sheffield-place. I forgot my friend Deyverdun, and the fair prospect of quiet and happiness which awaits me at Lausanne. I lost sight of our almost certain meeting at the end of a term, which, at our age, cannot appear very distant; nor could I amuse my uneasiness with the hopes, the more doubtful prospect, of your visit to Switzerland. The agitation of preparing every thing for my departure has, in some degree, diverted these melancholy thoughts; yet I still look forwards to the decisive day (to-morrow Se'nnight) with an anxiety of which yourself and Lord S. have the principal share.

Surely never any thing was so unlucky as the unseasonable death of Sir John Russell,⁵³ which so strongly reminded us of the instability of human life and human expectations. The inundation of the Assize must have distressed and overpowered you; but I hope and I wish to hear from yourself, that the air of your favourite Brighton, the bathing, and the quiet society of two or three friends, have composed and revived your spirits. Present my love to Sarah, and compliments to Miss Carter, &c. Adieu. Give me a speedy and satisfactory line.*

I am

Most truly yours,

E. Gibbon.

P.S. – You will find in Downing Street the Histoire des Voyages and the musical clock. During my absence I entrust them both to your care, but I desire that neither of them may be removed to Sheffield Place. You must direct to Downing Street, which I shall occupy next Monday.

474.
To his Stepmother

Downing Street, Monday, Sept. 8th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

I am confined to this place (a better place than Dover) by the winds, and they likewise detain two Flanders mails by which I expect a letter from Deyverdun. I thought this advertisement necessary for fear you should suppose me tossing on the seas. I hope to get away by Friday, but you may rest assured that both for your sake and my own I will take very good care of my person.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

475.
To Lord Sheffield

Downing Street, September 8th, 1783.

THE PEACE OF VERSAILLES.

*As we are not unconscious of each other's feelings, I shall only say, that I am glad you did not go alone into Sussex. An American rebel⁵⁴ to dispute with, gives a diversion to uneasy spirits, and I heartily wished for such a friend or adversary during the remainder of the day. No letter from Deyverdun; the post is arrived, but two Flanders mails are due. Æolus does not seem to approve of my designs, and there is little merit in waiting till Friday. I should wait with more reluctance, did I think there was much chance of success. I dine with Craufurd,⁵⁵ and if anything is decided will send an extraordinary Gazette. You have obliged me beyond expression, by your kindness to Aunt Kitty; she will drink her afternoon tea at Sheffield next Friday. For my sake, Lady S. will be kind to the old Lady, who will not be troublesome, and will vanish at the first idea of Brighton; has not that salubrious air already produced some effects? Peace will be proclaimed to-morrow;⁵⁶ odd! as War was never declared. The buyers of stock seem as indifferent as yourself about the definitive Treaty. Tell Maria, that though you had forgotten the Annales de la Vertu, I have directed them to be sent, but know nothing of their plan or merit. Adieu. When you see Mylady, say everything tender and friendly to her. I did not know how much I loved her. She may depend upon my keeping a separate, though not, perhaps, a very frequent account with her. Apropos, I think aunt Kitty has a secret wish to lye in my room; if it is not occupied, she might be indulged. Once more, adieu.*

E. G.

476.
To Lord Sheffield

Tuesday Night [September 9], 1783.

It is singular, or rather it is natural that we should both entertain the same idea, for I give you my word that I was very near running down to Sheffield and staying there till Wednesday. Another day, and no letter from Deyverdun; indeed the two Flanders mails are still due. I have written to him this post. To-morrow Crauford dines again with the Secretary, and the business is to be decided.⁵⁷ I find Storer is now likely to succeed not so much from the zeal and activity of Lord's N.'s friendship, as because he could resign a place which Fox wants for Colonel Stanhope, to whom however he has given Thomas's company in the Guards. I will write another line to-morrow. Adieu.

E. G.

Newton, I think with reasons postpones any special power of Attorney till we are farther advanced, either with Cromwell's Client or some other purchaser: he says there will be sufficient time to send and return one while the title is under examination.

477.
To Lord Sheffield

Thursday, September 11th, 1783.

*The scheme (which you may impart to My lady) is compleatly vanished, and I support the disappointment with Heroic patience. Crauford goes down to Chatsworth to-morrow, and Fox does not recommend my waiting for the event; yet the appointment is not yet declared, and I am ignorant of the name and merits of my successful competitor. Is it not wonderful that I am still in suspense, without a letter from Deyverdun? No, it is not wonderful, since no Flanders mail is arrived: to-morrow three will be due. I am therefore in a miserable state of doubt and anxiety; in a much better house indeed than my own, but without books, or business, or society. I send or call two or three times each day to Elmsley's, and can only say that I shall fly the next day, Saturday, Sunday, &c. after I have got my quietus.*

Aunt Kitty was delighted with Mylady's letter; at her age, and in her situation, every kind attention is pleasant. I took my leave this morning; and as I did not wish to repeat the scene, and thought she would be better at Sheffield, I suffer her to go to-morrow. Your discretion will communicate or withhold any tidings of my departure or delay as you judge most expedient. Christie writes to you this post; he talks, in his rhetorical way, of many purchasers. Do you approve of his fixing a day for the Auction? To us he talked of an indefinite advertisement.

*No news, except that we keep Negapatnam.⁵⁸ The other day the French Ambassador mentioned that the Empress of Russia, a precious B – , had proposed to ratify the principles of the armed neutrality, by a definitive treaty, but that the French, obliging creatures! had declared that they would neither propose nor accept an article so disagreable to England. Grey Elliot was pleased with your attention, and says you are a perfect master of the subject.⁵⁹ Adieu. If I could be sure that no mail would arrive to-morrow, I would run down with my aunt. My heart is not light. I embrace My lady with true affection, but I need not repeat it.

E. G.

478.
To Lord Sheffield

Downing Street, Friday, September 12th, 1783.

DEPARTURE DELAYED.

*Since my departure is near, and inevitable, you and Lady S. will be rather sorry than glad to hear that I am detained, day after day, by the caprice of the winds. Three Flanders mails are now due. I know not how to move without the final letter from Deyverdun, which I expected a fortnight ago, and my fancy (perfectly unreasonable) begins to create strange fantoms. A state of suspense is painful, but it will be alleviated by the short notes which I mean to write, and hope to receive, every post. A separation has some advantages, though they are purchased with bitter pangs; among them is the pleasure of knowing how dear we are to our friends, and how dear they are to us. It will be a kind office to soothe Aunt Kitty's sorrows, and to "rock the cradle of declining age." She will be vexed to hear that I am not yet gone; but she is reasonable and chearful.* I am grateful for Maria's attention to me or my corpse. Adieu.

Most truly yours,

E. G.

479.
To Lord Sheffield

Downing Street, Saturday, September 13th, 1783.

*Enfin la Bombe a crevé.– The three Flanders mails are arrived this day, but without any letters from Deyverdun. Most incomprehensible! After many adverse reflections, I have finally resolved to begin my journey on Monday; a heavy journey, with much apprehension, and much regret. Yet I consider, 1st, That if he is alive and well, (an unpleasant if,) scarcely any event can have happened to disappoint our mutual wishes; and, 2dly, That, supposing the very worst, even that worst would not overthrow my general plan of living abroad, though it would derange my hopes of a quiet and delightful establishment with my friend.* Upon the whole, without giving way to melancholy fears, my reason conjectures that his indolence thought it superfluous to write any more, that it was my business to act and move, and his duty to sit still and receive me with open arms. At least he is well informed of my operations, as I wrote to him (since his last) July 31st, from Sheffield-place; August 19th; and this week, September 9th. The two first have already reached him.

As I shall not arrive at, or depart from, Dover till Tuesday night, (alas! I may be confined there a week,) you will have an opportunity, by dispatching a parcel per post to Elmsly's, to catch the Monday's post. Let us improve these last short moments: I want to hear how poor Kitty behaves. I am really impatient to be gone. It is provoking to be so near, yet so far from, certain persons. *London is a desert.* I dine to-morrow with the Paynes, who pass through. Lord Loughborough was not returned from Buxton yesterday.* Sir H[enry] C[linton]⁶⁰ found me out this morning; with very little trouble My Lady might rival Betsy; he talks with rapture of visits to be made at Sheffield, and returned at Brighton. I envy him those visits more than the red ribbon* or the glory of his American campaigns.

Adieu.

480.
To his Stepmother

Downing Street, Saturday, Sept. 13th, 1783.

My Dear Madam,

You will be surprized to receive another letter from this place, but I have been detained this whole week unpleasantly enough by the daily expectation of a Flanders mail, though considering the state of the winds and weather it is better to be detained in a good house in Downing Street, than at the Ship at Dover. My departure is now finally determined for Monday morning, and I travel with my own horses. I shall lye at Sittingbourne, and not reach Dover till the afternoon of the next day; my farther progress must depend on the caprice of Neptune and Æolus, but the moment I have escaped from their power I will send a line by the return of the packet.

Lord Sheffield spent two or three days with me in his way from Coventry races into Sussex.

KINDNESS OF THE SHEFFIELDS.

Nothing could exceed, both in word and deed, his kindness and that of his consort on the present occasion, which has indeed shewn me how dear I am to my real friends. They have taken poor Mrs. Porten down to Sheffield, and I am sure will contrive every thing that can support and dissipate her spirits. They both expressed to me in the most obliging terms how glad they should have been of a visit from you; but your mind is firmer, and your prospects are far more chearful than those of my poor Aunt. Adieu, my Dear Madam; though I go with pleasure from party and dependence to a Philosophical retreat, I cannot measure without a sigh the difference (in some degree imaginary) between one, and six, hundred miles.

Ever yours,

E. G.

481.
To Lord Sheffield

Dover, Wednesday, September 17th, 1783,

Ten o'clock in the morning.

*The best laws are useless without proper guardians. Your letter per Sunday's post is not arrived, (as its fate is uncertain, and irrevocable, you must repeat any material article,) but that per Monday's post reached me last night. Oliver⁶¹ is more insolent than his grandfather; but you will cope with one, and would not have been much afraid of the other. Last night the wind was so high, that the vessel could not stir from the harbour; this day it is brisk and fair. We start about one o'clock, are flattered with the hope of making Calais harbour by the same tide, in three hours and a half; but any delay will leave the disagreable option of a tottering boat or a tossing night. What a cursed thing to live in an island! this step is more awkward than the whole journey. The Triumvirate of this memorable embarkation will consist of the grand Gibbon, Henry Laurens,⁶² Esquire, President of Congress, and Mr. Secretary, Colonel, Admiral, Philosopher Thompson,⁶³ attended by three horses, who are not the most agreeable fellow-passengers. If we survive, I will finish and seal my letter at Calais. Our salvation shall be ascribed to the prayers of My lady and Aunt; for I do believe they both pray.

Boulogne, Thursday morning, ten o'clock.

Instead of Calais, the wind has driven us to Boulogne, where we landed in the evening, with much noise and difficulty. The night is passed, the Customhouse is dispatched, the post-horses are ordered, and I shall start about eleven o'clock. I had not the least symptom of sea sickness, while my companions were spewing round me. Laurens has read the pamphlet,⁶⁴ and thinks it has done much mischief – a good sign! Adieu, the Captain is impatient. I shall reach Lausanne by the end of next week, but may probably write on the road.*

482.
To Lord Sheffield

Langres, September 23rd, 1783.

HIS JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE.

*Let the Geographical Maria place before you the map of France, and trace my progress as far as this place, through the following towns: Boulogne, (where I was forced to land,) St. Omer, (where I recovered my road,) Aire, Bethune, Douay, Cambray, St. Quentin, La Fère, Laon, Rheims, Chalons, St. Dizier, and Langres, where I have just finished my supper. The Inns, in general, more agreable to the palate, than to the sight or smell. But, with some short exceptions of time and place, I have enjoyed good weather and good roads, and at the end of the ninth day, I feel so little fatigued, that the journey appears no more than a pleasant airing. I have generally conversed with Homer and Lord Clarendon, often with Caplin and Muff;⁶⁵ sometimes with the French postillions – of the above-mentioned animals the least rational. To-morrow I lye at Besançon, and, according to the arrangement of post or hired horses, shall either sup at Lausanne on Friday, or dine there Saturday. I feel some suspense and uneasiness with regard to Deyverdun; but in the scale both of reason and constitution, my hopes preponderate very much above my fears. From Lausanne I will immediately write. I embrace my lady. If Aunt Kitty's gratitude and good breeding have not driven her away upon the first whisper of Brighton, she will share this intelligence; if she is gone, a line from you would be humane and attentive. "Monsieur, les Chevaux seront prêts à cinq heures." – Adieu. I am going into an excellent bed, about six feet high from the ground.*

483.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, September 30th, 1783.

*I arrived safe in harbour last Saturday, the 27th instant, about ten o'Clock in the morning; but as the post only goes out twice a week, it was not in my power to write before this day. Except one day, between Langres and Besançon, which was laborious enough, I finished my easy and gentle airing without any fatigue, either of mind or body. I found Deyverdun well and happy, but much more happy at the sight of a friend, and the accomplishment of a scheme which he had so long and impatiently desired. His garden, terrace, and park, have even exceeded the most sanguine of my expectations and remembrances; and you yourself cannot have forgotten the charming prospect of the Lake, the mountains, and the declivity of the Pays de Vaud. But as human life is perpetually checquered with good and evil, I have found some disappointments on my arrival. The easy nature of Deyverdun, his indolence, and his impatience, had prompted him to reckon too positively that his house would be vacant at Michaelmas; some unforeseen difficulties have arisen, or have been discovered when it was already too late, and the consummation of our hopes is (I am much afraid) postponed to next spring. At first I was knocked down by the unexpected thunderbolt, but I have gradually been reconciled to my fate, and have granted a free and gracious pardon to my friend. As his own apartment, which afforded me a temporary shelter, is much too narrow for a settled residence, we hired for the winter a convenient ready furnished apartment in the nearest part of the Rue de Bourg, whose back door leads in three steps to the terrace and garden, as often as a tolerable day shall tempt us to enjoy their beauties; and this arrangement has even its advantage, of giving us time to deliberate and provide, before we enter on a larger and more regular establishment.

THE ABBÉ RAYNAL.

But this is not the sum of my misfortunes; hear, and pity! The day after my arrival (Sunday) we had just finished a very temperate dinner, and intended to begin a round of visits on foot, chapeau sous le bras, when, most unfortunately, Deyverdun proposed to show me something in the Court; we boldly and successfully ascended a flight of stone steps, but in the descent I missed my footing, and strained, or sprained, my ancle in a painful manner. My old latent Enemy, (I do not mean the Devil,) who is always on the watch, has made an ungenerous use of his advantage, and I much fear that my arrival at Lausanne will be marked with a fit of the Gout, though it is quite unnecessary that the intelligence or suspicion should find its way to Bath. Yesterday afternoon I lay, or at least sat, in state to receive visits, and at the same moment my room was filled with four different nations. The loudest of these nations was the single voice of the Abbé Raynal,⁶⁶ who, like your friend, has chosen this place for the azylum of freedom and history. His conversation, which might be very agreable, is intolerably loud, peremptory, and insolent; and you would imagine that he alone was the Monarch and legislator of the World.

Adieu. I embrace My lady, and the infants.* Inform Maria that my accident has prevented me from looking out for a proper spot for my interment. *With regard to the important transactions for which you are constituted Plenipotentiary, I expect with some impatience, but with perfect confidence, the result of your labours. You may remember what I mentioned of my conversation with Charles Fox about the place of Minister at Bern: I have talked it over with Deyverdun, who does not dislike the idea, provided this place was allowed to be my Villa, during at least two-thirds of the Year; but for my part, I am sure that* a thousand guineas *is worth more than Ministerial friendship and gratitude; so I am inclined to think, that they are preferable to an office which would be procured with difficulty, enjoyed with constraint and expence, and lost, perhaps, next April, in the annual Revolutions of our domestic Government. Again Adieu.*

484.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, September 30th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

As I know you prefer a speedy to a long letter, I write by the first post to inform you that after an easy and pleasant journey of thirteen days, I arrived here on Saturday the 27th instant in perfect health both of mind and body. You will not expect that I should inform you how far my expectations are answered in any or in every respect. The very novelty and beauty of the scene would give a pleasing colour to every object, and the satisfaction of meeting and conversing with an old friend like Deyverdun is alone worth a journey of six hundred miles. He has not forgot his obligations to you, and begs me in his name to say everything that is kind and grateful. We have been so compleatly taken up and satisfied with each other that as yet I have scarcely stirred from home, and as this is the season of the vintage the town is remarkably empty. But the weather is good, and our terrace now affords such a prospect of the lake and mountains, as cannot perhaps be equalled in the World. I most sincerely wish that you were walking there, and you would soon forget the more humble beauties of your Belvidere. But I must content myself with the hope, and not a distant hope, of seeing you again on the hills, not of Switzerland but of Bath.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

That we may never resume the indelicate subject, I shall say once for all that every Christmas and Midsummer Day, without expecting any draught from me, you need only send your commands to Messrs. Gosling, Bankers in Fleet Street, as thus, Pay to Mr. – the sum of one hundred and fifty pounds, and place to the account of E. G., Esq., for D. G. They are properly instructed.

485.
To Lady Sheffield

Lausanne, October 28th, 1783.

*The progress of my Gout is in general so regular, and there is so much uniformity in the history of its decline and fall, that I have hitherto indulged my laziness, without much shame or remorse, without supposing that you would be very anxious for my safety, which has been sufficiently provided for by the triple care of my friend Deyverdun, my humbler friend Caplin, and a very conversable Physician (not the famous Tissot⁶⁷), whose ordinary fee is ten Batz, about fifteen pence English. After the usual encrease and decrease of my member (for it has been confined to the injured foot), the Gout has retired in good order, and the remains of weakness, which obliged me to move on the rugged pavement of Lausanne with a stick, or rather small crutch, are to be ascribed to the sprain, which might have been a much more serious business.

THE CHARMS OF LAUSANNE.

As I have now spent a month at Lausanne, you will inquire with much curiosity, more kindness, and some mixture of spite and malignity, how far the place has answered my expectations, and whether I do not repent of a resolution which has appeared so rash and ridiculous to my ambitious friends? To this question, however natural and reasonable, I shall not return an immediate answer, for two reasons: 1. I have not yet made a fair tryal. The disappointment and delay with regard to Deyverdun's house, will confine us this winter to lodgings, rather convenient than spacious or pleasant. I am only beginning to recover my strength and liberty, and to look about on persons and things; the greatest part of those persons are in the Country taken up with their Vintage: my books are not yet arrived, and, in short, I cannot look upon myself as settled in that comfortable way which you and I understand and relish. Yet the weather has been heavenly, and till this time, the end of October, we enjoy the brightness of the sun, and somewhat gently complain of its immoderate heat. 2. If I should be too sanguine in expressing my satisfaction in what I have done, you would ascribe that satisfaction to the novelty of the scene, and the inconstancy of man; and I deem it far more safe and prudent to postpone any positive declaration, till I am placed by experience beyond the danger of repentance and recantation.

Yet of one thing I am sure, that I possess in this Country, as well as in England, the best cordial of life, a sincere, tender, and sensible friend, adorned with the most valuable and pleasant qualities both of the heart and head. The inferior enjoyments of leisure and society are likewise in my power; and in the short excursions which I have hitherto made, I have commenced or renewed my acquaintance with a certain number of persons, more especially women, (who, at least in France and this country, are undoubtedly superior to our prouder sex,) of rational minds and elegant manners. I breakfast alone, and have declared that I receive no visits in the morning, which you will easily suppose is devoted to study. I find it impossible, without inconvenience, to defer my dinner beyond two o'Clock. We have got a very good Woman Cook. Deyverdun, who is somewhat of an Epicurean Philosopher, understands the management of a table, and we frequently invite a guest or two to share our luxurious, but not extravagant repasts. The afternoons are (and will be much more so hereafter) devoted to society, and I shall find it necessary to play at cards much oftener than in London: but I do not dislike that way of passing a couple of hours, and I shall not be ruined at Shilling whist. As yet I have not supped, but in the Course of the winter I must sometimes sacrifice an evening abroad, and in exchange I hope sometimes to steal a day at home, without going into Company.*

A PENSION FOR MISS HOLROYD.

As every idea which relates to you and yours is always uppermost in my mind, I have not forgot our schemes to finish in this School of freedom and equality the education of the future Baroness of Roscommon,⁶⁸ and Deyverdun agrees with me in thinking that a couple of years spent at Lausanne would be of infinite service to her. But as I am convinced that she has attained the age in which it would be the most beneficial and the least dangerous, I would recommend speedy and decisive measures. If you could be satisfied with an ordinary plan (I hate the name and idea of a boarding school) Maria might be entrusted to a Madame Ostervald (Lord S. knew and liked her under the name of Mademoiselle Bourgeois), who educates with reputation and success several young ladies of fashion. But as your daughter deserves a special and superior guide, we have cast our eyes (without knowing whether she would accept it) on a lady, who, by her birth, station, connections, understanding, knowledge, and temper, appears, in the judgment of Deyverdun, her particular friend, to be not unworthy to supply your place. She lives next door to us, and our eyes and ears (two pair) would be continually open. If you found an opportunity of sending Maria in the spring with any proper travellers, We would meet her at Geneva, Lyons, &c. With such a hostage, I should be sure of seeing Lord S. and yourself, and a year's trial would determine you to leave or remove her. If you listen seriously to this idea, I will send you more particular accounts, and take every proper step. If you cannot resolve, accept this bavardage as a proof of love and solicitude.

*I have all this time been talking to Lord S.; I hope that he has dispatched my affairs, and it would give me pleasure to hear that I am no longer member for Lymington, nor Lord of Lenborough. Adieu. I feel every day that the distance serves only to make me think with more tenderness of the persons whom I love.*

On reading what I have written, I must laugh at my sudden and peremptory recommendations about Maria, yet I coolly think it the best scheme. You oblige me beyond expression by your kindness to Aunt Kitty. N.B. I always desire double letters. – I find I shall have some commissions for you (Sheffelina), but I do not suppose you in town till after Christmas.

486.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, November 14th, 1783.

*Last Tuesday, November 11th, after plaguing and vexing yourself all the morning about some business of your fertile creation, you went to the House of Commons, and passed the afternoon, the evening, and perhaps the night, without sleep or food, stifled in a close room by the heated respiration of six hundred politicians, inflamed by party and passion, and tired of the repetition of dull nonsense, which, in that illustrious assembly, so far outweighs the proportion of reason and eloquence. On the same day, after a studious morning, a friendly dinner, and a chearful assembly of both sexes, I retired to rest at eleven o'Clock, satisfied with the past day, and certain that the next would afford me the return of the same quiet and rational enjoyments. Which has the better bargain?

Seriously, I am every hour more grateful to my own judgment and resolution, and only regret that I so long delayed the execution of a favourite plan, which I am convinced is the best adapted to my character and inclinations. Your conjecture of the revolutions of my face, when I heard that the house was for this winter inaccessible, is probable, but false. I bore my disappointment with the temper of a Sage, and only use it to render the prospect of next year still more pleasing to my imagination. You are likewise mistaken, in imputing my fall to the awkwardness of my limbs. The same accident might have happened to Slingsby himself, or to any Hero of the age, the most distinguished for his bodily activity. I have now resumed my entire strength, and walk with caution, yet with speed and safety, through the streets of this mountainous city. After a month of the finest autumn I ever saw, the Bise⁶⁹ made me feel my old acquaintance; the weather is now milder, and this present day is dark and rainy, not much better than what you probably enjoy in England. The town is comparatively empty, but the Noblesse are returning every day from their Chateaux, and I already perceive that I shall have more reason to complain of dissipation than of dulness.

OLD ACQUAINTANCES AT LAUSANNE.

As I told Lady S., I am afraid of being too rash and hasty in expressing my satisfaction; but I must again repeat, that appearances are extremely favourable. I am sensible that general praise conveys no distinct ideas, but it is very difficult to enter into particulars where the individuals are unknown, or indifferent to our correspondent. You have forgotten the old Generation, and in twenty years a new one is grown up. Death has swept many from the World, and chance or choice has brought many to this place. If you enquire after your old acquaintance Catherine Crousaz, you must be told, that she is solitary, uggly, blind, and universally forgotten. Your later flame, and our common Goddess, the Eliza,⁷⁰ passed a month at the Inn. The greatest part of the time either in fit or taking the air on horseback. She came to consult Tissot, and was acquainted with Cerjat, but she appears to have made no conquests, and no fountain has been dedicated to her memory.*

And now to business. By this time those who would give me nothing else have nobly rewarded my merit with the Chiltern Hundreds. I retire without a sigh from the Senate, and am only impatient to hear that you have received the sum, which your modesty was content to take for my seat. Sir Andrew⁷¹ is an honourable man, yet I am satisfied that you have not neglected any of the necessary precautions. It will be advisable to have the odd hundred in Gosling's shop and to pay the thousand to Messrs. Darrel, Winchester Street, who will vest it for me in the three per cent. We must take advantage of this stupendous fall of the Stocks, which amazes and frightens many poor souls here who apprehend that poor old England is on the brink of ruin. But this same circumstance is equally hostile to the sale of Lenborough, and though £200 or 300 a year and some part of my tranquillity depend on being released from the claws of my Mortgagee, yet I am much afraid that in the present state of things an equal purchaser will not easily be found. But your native vigour excited by friendship will remove mountains and perform impossibilities. My salvation would be more assured if I had half as much faith in any body else.

*With regard to meaner cares, these are two, which you can and will undertake. 1. As I have not renounced my Country, I should be glad to hear of your Parliamentary squabbles, which may be done with small trouble and expence. After an interesting debate, Miss Firth or My lady in due time may cut the speeches from Woodfall. You will write or dictate any curious anecdote, and the whole, inclosed in a letter, may be dispatched to Lausanne. 2. A set of Wedgewood China, which we talked of in London, and which would be most acceptable here. As you have a sort of a taste, I leave to your own choice the colour and the pattern; but as I have the inclination and means to live very handsomely here, I desire that the size and number of things may be adequate to a plentiful table.

If you see Lord North, assure him of my gratitude; had he been a more successful friend, I should now be drudging at the board of Customs, or vexed with business in the amiable society of *the Duke of M[anchester].* To Lord Loughborough present a more affectionate sentiment; I am satisfied with his intention to serve me, if I had not been in such a fidget. I am sure you will not fail, while you are in town, to visit and comfort poor Aunt Kitty. I wrote to her on my first arrival, and she may be assured that I will not neglect her.* Any occasional hints from Bath will be wellcome, but nothing from hence must ever transpire. *To My lady I say nothing; we have now our private Correspondence, into which the eye of an husband should not be permitted to intrude. I am really satisfied with the success of the Pamphlet;⁷² not only because I have a sneaking kindness for the author, but as it shows me that plain sense, full information, and warm spirit, are still acceptable to the World. You talk of Lausanne as a place of retirement; yet from the situation and freedom of the Pays de Vaud, all nations, and all extraordinary characters, are astonished to meet each other. The Abbé Raynal, the grand Gibbon, and Mercier,⁷³ author of the Tableau de Paris, have been in the same room. The other day, the Prince and Princess de Ligne,⁷⁴ the Duke and Dutchess d'Ursel, &c. came from Brussels on purpose (literally true) to act a comedy at d'Hermanches's, in the Country. He was dying, and could not appear; but we had Comedy, ball, and supper. The event seems to have revived him; for that great man is fallen from his ancient glory, and his nearest relations refuse to see him. I told you of poor Catherine's deplorable state; but Madame de Mesery, at the age of sixty-nine, is still handsome. Adieu.*

487.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, December 20th, 1783.

*I have received both your Epistles; and as any excuse will serve a man who is at the same time very busy and very idle, I patiently expected the second, before I entertained any thoughts of answering the first.*

SALE OF LENBOROUGH.

And so poor Lenborough is at length sold; poor indeed I may call, for I must confess that I am most woefully disappointed in the price. Without going back to the Golden Age in which we looked down with disdain on the round twenty, you may remember that even this summer we scarcely allowed our most timid expectations to sink below seventeen, and this sum for which it is now sold falls £1400 short of that amount, without deducting the promised gratuity to Christie.

You might indeed reckon on my impatience to be delivered from a heavy burden both of fortune and of mind which I have often deplored with so much energy, but that burthen was much alleviated by my rational retreat from a scene of tumult and expence, and I always understood that we should take the chance of the winter and of the rise of stocks before we tryed the decisive and almost irrevocable measure of an auction. However the blow is struck, and I have already reconciled my mind to this new loss. I should have been afraid of writing thus much to Hugonin, but your nerves are more firmly strung, and through these expressions of disappointment, you discern, that instead of being displeased with your conduct, however inadequate to my hopes, I feel myself inexpressibly obliged to your pure fervent and persevering friendship. You will watch over the conclusion of this business, and whatever steps on my side may be necessary shall be diligently executed as soon as you send me the proper papers and instruction. When the money is paid (in February) you will leave the residue, a wretched fragment, in the hands of the Goslings on my account. I have not absolutely determined how I shall employ it. Something must be done in the way of annuity, and the French funds which are very fashionable in this country are wonderfully tempting to a poor man by the high interest, but I am aware of their slippery foundation, and you may be assured that I shall do nothing of that kind without full and mature and even cautious investigation. For the same reason, instead of paying the money to Darrel, I could wish that the £1100 or £1000 for Lymington (for we must not haggle about trifles) may likewise slumber for a little while in the shop in Fleet Street. Yet I should not be sorry to hear that the direction comes too late and that they are already more actively employed.

Sure I have been particularly unfortunate in my connections of business, for in good truth, Winton, Lovegrove, and Sir H. Burrard⁷⁵ are more than should fall to the share of one man.

PRIDE IN FOX'S FAME.

Yet the last mentioned beast is no fool, and when that affectionate kinsman has squeezed the Minister to the utmost, he will be satisfied with all that he can get, and will not suffer his farm to lye fallow without being of any value either to landlord or tenant. *I therefore conclude, on every principle of common sense, that, before this moment, his own interest and that of the Government, stimulated by your active zeal, have already expelled me from the House, to which, without regret, I bid an everlasting farewell. The agreeable hour of five o'Clock in the morning, at which you commonly retire, does not tend to revive my attachment; but if you add the soft hours of your morning committee,⁷⁶ in the discussion of taxes, customs, frauds, smugglers, &c., I think I should beg to be released and quietly sent to the Gallies, as a place of leisure and freedom. Yet I do not depart from my general principles of toleration; some animals are made to live in the water, others on the Earth, many in the air, and some, as it is now believed, even in fire. Your present hurry of Parliament I perfectly understand; when opposition make the attack —

– Horæ

Momento cita mors venit, aut victoria læta.

But when the Minister brings forward strong and decisive measure, he at length prevails; but his progress is retarded at every step, and in every stage of the bill, by a pertinacious, though unsuccessful, minority. I am not sorry to hear of the splendour of Fox; I am proud, in a foreign Country, of his fame and abilities, and our little animosities are extinguished by my retreat from the English Stage. With regard to the substance of the business, I scarcely know what to think: the vices of the Company,⁷⁷ both in their persons and their constitution, were manifold and manifest; the danger was imminent, and such an Empire, with thirty millions of subjects, was not to be lost for trifles. Yet, on the other hand, the faith of Charters, the rights of property! I hesitate and tremble. Such an innovation would at least require that the remedy should be as certain as the evil, and the proprietors may perhaps insinuate, that they were as competent Guardians of their own affairs, as either *George North or L. Lewisham.⁷⁸* Their acting without a salary seems childish, and their not being removable by the Crown is a strange and dangerous precedent.

But enough of politics, which I now begin to view through a thin, cold, distant cloud, yet not without a reasonable degree of curiosity and patriotism. From the papers (especially when you add an occasional slice of the Chronicle) I shall be amply informed of facts and debates; from you I expect the causes rather than the events, the true springs of action, and those interesting anecdotes which seldom ascend the garret of a Fleet-Street editor.

LORD NORTH'S INSIGNIFICANCE.

You say that many friends (alias acquaintance) have expressed curiosity and concern; I should not wish to be immediately forgot. That others (you once mentioned Gerard Hamilton) condemn Government for suffering the departure of a man who might have done them some credit and some service, perhaps as much as Antony Storer himself. To you, in the confidence of friendship, and without either pride or resentment, I will fairly own that I am somewhat of Gerard's opinion; and if I did not compare it with the rest of his character, I should be astonished that Lord N[orth] suffered me to depart, without even a civil answer to my letter. Were I capable of hating a man, whom it is not easy to hate, I should find myself most amply revenged by the insignificance of the creature in this mighty revolution of India, his own peculiar department. But the happy Souls in paradise are susceptible only of love and pity, and though Lausanne is not a paradise, more especially in Winter, I do assure you, in sober prose, that it has hitherto fulfilled, and even surpassed, my warmest expectation. Yet I often cast a look toward Sheffield-place, where you now repose, if you can repose, during the Christmas recess.

Embrace My Lady, the young Baroness, and the gentle Louisa, and insinuate to your silent Consort, that separate letters require separate answers. Had I an air balloon, the great topic of modern Conversation, I would call upon you till the meeting of parliament. Vale.*

488.
To his Stepmother. ⁷⁹

Lausanne, December 27th, 1783.

Dear Madam,

Were we strangers to each other, I might amuse myself with deducing the causes of my silence; the long expectation of your answer and the propriety of taking a clear view of the ground on which I stood before I could transmit a just and satisfactory account of my situation. But it will be better to acknowledge that the old man, my ancient and habitual enemy, touched me with his wand, and that I am just awakening from the enchanted slumber. My silence however may be fairly interpreted as an evidence of content. Indeed, my Dear Madam, I am happy, with as few exceptions as the condition of human Nature will allow, and among the first of these exceptions I reckon the interval of time and space which separates me from Bath.

Since I formed and executed this plan of retiring into Switzerland I have not once repented, I have not felt a single moment of disappointment, and my only regret is the having so long neglected to obey the dictates of my reason; a more early obedience would have saved me some years of dependance, of anxiety, and of indiscretion. I have always valued far above the external gifts of rank and fortune two qualities for which I stand indebted to the indulgence of Nature, a strong and constant passion for letters, and a propensity to view and to enjoy every object in the most favourable light. The first has composed the daily happiness of my life and ensured the perpetual enjoyment of the most pleasing labours; the success of my works has given me a pure and extensive, perhaps a permanent reputation, and if the more substantial rewards have too easily slipped through my hands, I must ascribe their loss to the obstinancy with which I struggled to support a style of life to which the remains of my fortune were no longer adequate.

My propensity to be happy has been exercised on the most unfavourable materials; you have commonly seen a smile on my conversation and my letters, and as you never distrusted the sincerity of my professions you must have been surprized at the success of my endeavours. Yet what could be more adverse to my character than the life which for some years past I have led in London. With the warmest love of independence I have stooped the slave of Ministers. Without talents, or at least without resolution for a public life, I have consumed days and nights a silent spectator of noisy and factious debates. Conscious that true happiness is founded on œconomy, the disorderly state of my affairs has never allowed me to measure my income and my expence, and I have never dared to cast my eyes on the disbursment of the past or the supplies of the future year. How different is the prospect which I now enjoy. I find myself in a state of perfect independence and real affluence, and if I continue to enjoy a tolerable state of health, I cannot easily discover what event is capable of disturbing my tranquillity.

Among the ingredients of happiness you will agree with me in giving the preference to a sincere and sensible friend; and though you are not acquainted with half his merit, you will believe that Deyverdun answers that description. Perhaps two persons so perfectly fitted for each other were never created by Nature and education. Our studies, occupations, and reflexions have been sufficiently various to ensure a constant fund of entertainment; the lights and shades of our respective characters are happily blended; freedom and confidence are the basis of our union, and a friendship of thirty years has taught us to enjoy and to support each other. You have often read and heard the descriptions of this delightful Country, the banks of the lake of Geneva, and indeed it surpasses all description. A stranger is struck with surprize and admiration, and it is endeared to me by the remembrance of my youth and the lively attachment which I have always retained for the place and the people. Our autumn has been beautiful, and the winter has not hitherto been severe, but the season of rural enjoyments is for some time suspended and our comforts are confined to the fireside. M. Deyverdun's house is spacious and convenient, and his garden, which spreads over a various and extensive spot, unites every beauty and advantage both of town and country. But into this paradise we are not yet introduced; the family to whom he had lent or let the larger part of the house have started some difficulties about the time of their removal, and till the month of March or April we are obliged to content ourselves with a convenient ready furnished lodging. When to this disappointment I add that my boxes of books which were sent through France still loiter on the road, you will confess that my felicity in the approaching year is more likely to encrease than to diminish.

DAILY LIFE AT LAUSANNE.

With regard to the daily enjoyments of life, which rolls away in a quiet uniform tenor, they are made to be felt rather than to be related. I rise before eight, and our mornings are commonly invisible to each other. At two (an hour somewhat too early) we dine, one, two, or three agreably very often enliven our board, which is served with decent elegance. From four to between six and seven we read some amusing book, play at chess, retire to our rooms, look into the Coffee house, or make visits. The assemblies are numerous, and I play my three rubbers at shilling or half-crown whist with tolerable pleasure. They end between nine and ten, and a bit of bread and cheese, with some friendly converse, sends us to bed about eleven. This sober plan is indeed interrupted by too frequent suppers, which I want resolution to refuse, though I behave with exemplary temperance. Instead of lolling in a coach I walk the streets at all hours wrapped in a fur Cloak – the exercise is wholesome, and in my life I never enjoyed more perfect health and spirits. May you be able to say as much! If vanity and Deyverdun do not deceive me, I am already a general favourite, and as likings or dislikes are commonly mutual, I am pleased with the manners of the place, and the worthy and amiable characters of many individuals of both sexes.

Believe me, My dear Madam, I never cast a look on the politics or the amusements of London. The mob of political connections or casual acquaintance are unworthy of the regret of a rational mind. But in the midst of a very pleasant life and society I am not insensible of my separation from yourself, the Sheffields, and two or three real friends. If their zeal should succeed in procuring me any adequate office which I could accept with propriety and exercise without disgust, if Government should find any situation in which I could do them service and myself credit, I would quit (perhaps with a sigh) this agreable retreat, and obey without hesitation the calls of friendship, of honour, and of my Country.

489.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, January 24th, 1784.

*Within two or three days after your last gracious Epistle, your Complaints were silenced, and your enquiries were satisfied, by an ample dispatch of four pages, which overflowed the inside of the cover, and in which I exposed my opinions of things in general, public as well as private, as they existed in my mind, in my state of ignorance and error, about the eighteenth or twentieth of last month. Within a week after that date I epistolised, in the same rich and copious strain, the two venerable females of Newman-street and the Belvidere,⁸⁰ whose murmur must now be changed into songs of gratitude and applause. My correspondence with the holy Matron of Northamptonshire⁸¹ has been less lively and loquacious. You have not forgotten the Atheist's vindication of himself from the foul calumnies of pretended Christians; within a fortnight after his arrival at Lausanne, he communicated the joyful event to Mrs. G. She answered per return of post, both letters at the same time, and in very dutiful language, almost excusing her advice, which was intended for my spiritual, as well as temporal, good, and assuring me that nobody should be able to injure me with her. Unless the Saint is an hypocrite, possible enough, such an expression must convey a favourable and important meaning: at all events, it is worth giving ourselves some trouble about her, without indulging any sanguine expectations of inheritance.

DELIGHT IN LORD SHEFFIELD'S LETTERS.

So much for my females. With regard to my male Correspondents, you are the only one to whom I have given any signs of my existence, though I have formed many a generous resolution. Yet I am not insensible of the kind and friendly manner in which Lord Loughborough has distinguished me: he could have no inducements of interest, and now that I view the distant picture with an impartial eye, I am convinced that (for a Statesman) he was sincere though not earnest in his wishes to serve me. When you see him, the Paynes, Eden, Crauford, &c., tell them that I am well, happy, and ashamed. On your side, the zeal and diligence of your pen has surprized and delighted me, and your letters, at this interesting moment, are exactly such as I wished them to be – authentic anecdotes, and rational speculations, worthy of a man who acts a part in the great theatre, and who fills a seat, not only in the general Pandæmonium, but in the private council of the princes of the infernal Regions. With regard to the detail of Parliamentary operations, I must repeat my request to you, or rather to Miss Firth, who will now be on the spot, that she will write, not with her pen, but her Scissars, and that, after every debate which deserves to pass the Sea and the Mountains, she will dissect the faithful narrative of Woodfall,⁸² and send it off by the next post, as an agreeable supplement to the meagre accounts of our weekly papers.

The wonderful revolutions of last month⁸³ have sounded to my ear more like the shifting scenes of a Comedy or Comic Opera, than like the sober events of real and modern history; and the irregularity of our winter posts, which sometimes retarded, and sometimes hastened, the arrival of the dispatches, has encreased the confusion of our ideas. Surely the Lord has blinded the eyes of Pharaoh and of his servants; the obstinacy of the last spring⁸⁴ was nothing compared to the headstrong and headlong madness of this Winter. I expect with much impatience the first days of your meeting: the purity and integrity of the Coalition will suffer a fiery tryal; but if they are true to themselves and to each other, a Majority of the House of Commons must prevail; the rebellion of the young Gentlemen will be crushed, and the Masters will resume the Government of the School. After the address and answer,⁸⁵ I have no conception that Parliament can be dissolved during the Session; but if the present Ministry can outlive the storm, I think the death Warrant will infallibly be signed in the summer. Here I blush for my Country, without confessing her shame. Fox acted like a man of Honour, yet surely his union with Pitt affords the only hope of salvation. How miserably are we wasting the season of peace!

THE SALE OF HIS SEAT.

I have written three pages before I come to my own busyness and feelings. In the first place, I most sincerely rejoyce that I left the ship, and swam ashore on a plank; the daily and hourly agitation in which I must have lived would have made me truly miserable, if I had obtained a place during pleasure, Storer's for instance. On the first news of the dissolution, I considered my seat as so totally and irrecoverably gone, that I have been less affected with Sir Harry's obstinacy.* Yet his absolute refusal to treat throws us at least for the present into a very uncomfortable situation, and besides the danger of shipwreck, every day's voyage diminishes the value of the ship and cargo. You say you are schemeless. I can think only of two expedients.

1. You know or can know Sir Andrew Hammond, who is a fair and honourable character. Talk over the business and kinsman fairly with him, and tempt him to exert himself by the lowness of the price. I should consider even five or six hundred pounds as so much saved out of the fire, and a part of that sum would be most deliciously employed in the embellishment of my new habitation.

2. The other scheme is somewhat more delicate, yet I cannot esteem myself as bound to sacrifice my essential interest to that motley crew surnamed a Coalition, nor does this superiority in Parliament depend on the loss of half-a-vote. Perhaps the new Minister would give Sir Harry for his relations those scandalous jobs which our late friends more conscientiously refused, and many a Candidate would purchase their effectual recommendation by giving me the £1000 or £1200. On this occasion remember you are acting for a poor friend; dismiss a little of the spirit of faction and patriotism, and stoop to a prudential line of conduct, which in your own case you might possibly disdain. If you attempt the negociation you will easily find the proper instruments, but I should think James Grenville, the Lord of the Treasury, a safe and convenient channel, and I am persuaded that he would embrace the opportunity of serving his party and obliging me at the same time. In the business of Lenborough you may be active, but I can only be passive to convey a fair Estate, and to receive a miserable pittance of three thousand and some pounds. I hope nothing will happen to perplex the title or to delay the payment, and that the sum will be safely lodged for my account and in Gosling's hands before the end of February.

*Perhaps you will abuse my prudence and patriotism, when I inform you, that I have already vested a part (30,000 Livres, about £1300) in the new loan of the King of France. I get eight per Cent. on the joint lives of Deyverdun and myself, besides thirty tickets in a very advantageous Lottery, of which the highest prize is an annuity of 40,000 Livres (£1700) a year. At this moment, the beginning of a peace, and probably a long peace, I think (and the World seems to think) the French funds at least as solid as our own. I have empowered my Agent, M. de Lessart, a capital banker at Paris, to draw upon Gosling for the money two months hence; and to avoid all accidents that may result from untoward delays, and mercantile churlishness, I expect that you will support my credit in Fleet-street with your own more respectable name.* Moreover when Lenborough purchase money is paid, I wish it were possible to withhold £1000 or 1500 of their mortgage on our joint bond; I could employ it to my satisfaction at present, and should certainly repay it in three or four years on the conclusion of my History. Perhaps you will be better reconciled to my pecuniary arrangements by the proposal which I seriously make of purchasing Lee's farm at Buriton, if it can be obtained for 25 years' purchase after deducting the Land Tax. My interest without principal will be compensated by principal without interest (you remember Soame Jenyns's definition), and whatever becomes of my French Creditor, my Hampshire acres will be safe, compact, and in due time clear of all incumbrances. You may consult with Hugonin, propose and conclude.

*What say you now? Am I not a wise Man? My letter is enormous, and the post on the wing. In a few days I will write to my Lady herself, and enter something more into the details of domestic life. Suffice it to say, that the scene becomes each day more pleasant and comfortable, and that I complain only of the dissipation of Lausanne. In the course of March or April we shall take possession of Deyverdun's house. My books, which by some strange neglect, did not leave Paris till the 3rd of this Month, will arrive in a few weeks; and I shall soon resume the continuation of my history, which I shall prosecute with the more vigour, as the completion affords me a distant prospect of a visit to England.* A-propos, if the box which I left in Downing Street for the Swiss Carrier be not already departed, I hope Elmsley and yourself will give it a speedy and vigorous shove; when you see Elmsley ask him whether he has answered my letters: he is almost as lazy as myself. To my Lady's taste I shall entrust the Wedgewood's ware, which in the course of the spring or summer may accompany some other boxes of plate, linnen, books which I shall probably invoke. Adieu. I embrace my Lady and Infants.

Ever yours,

E. G.

490.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, February 2nd, 1784.

Baron! —

*After my last enormous dispatch, nothing can remain, except some small gleanings, or occasional hints; and thus in order: I am not conscious that any of your valuable MSS. have miscarried, or that I have omitted to answer any essential particulars. They stand in my Bureau carefully arranged, and docketed under the following dates; September 23, October 23, November 18, December 2, December 15, December 19, December 23, December 29, January 16, which last I have received this day, Febr. 2nd. For greater perspicuity, it will not be amiss (on either side) to number our future Epistles, by a conspicuous Roman character inscribed in the front, to which we may at any time refer. But instead of writing by Ostend, the shorter and surer way, especially on all occasions that deserve celerity, will be to direct them to my Banker, M. de Lessert, at Paris, who will forward them to me. Through Germany the passage by Sea is more uncertain, the roads worse, and the distance greater: we often complain of delay and irregularity at this interesting moment.

A FACTIOUS OPPOSITION.

By your last I find that you have boldly and generously opened a treaty with the Enemy, which I proposed with fear and hesitation. I impatiently expect the result; and again repeat, that whatever you can obtain* for the seat, *I shall consider it as so much saved out of the fire, &c. &c.* I shall then have completely secured a tranquil though humble station, and my personal happiness will no longer hang in suspense upon every change of Ministry, and every vote of Parliament. I am not surprized that you grow sulky: your free and liberal spirit must disdain a set of Men, whose aim is their own restoration to power, and whose means may affect the principles of the Constitution.⁸⁶ *Do you remember Dunning's motion⁸⁷ (in the year 80) to address the Crown against a dissolution of Parliament? a simple address we rejected, as an infringement on the prerogative; yet how far short of these strong Democratical measures, for which you have probably voted, as I should probably have done: such is the contagion of party. Fox drives most furiously, yet I should not be surprized if Pitt's moderation and character should insensibly win the Nation, and even the house, to espouse his cause.*

Lenborough is a melancholy and unpleasant subject. I am grateful for your endeavours, and lament that your reflexions on the value of land and money are but too true and sensible. Greatly as I have been disappointed in the price, I should now be sorry that anything should happen to break the bargain or to delay the payment. The surmise of such a possible event obliged me to repeat my commands that you would instruct Gosling (in your own name) to accept M. de Lessert's draught on the 20th of March for 30,000 French Livres (about £1300). Whatever you may think of my economical measures, the deed is done, and my honour is now pledged for the performance. The other sum, £1000 or 1500 of the Lenborough price which I wished to deduct from the mortgage, is a more indifferent speculation, which should only take place as far as it is agreable to all parties.

ARRIVAL OF HIS LIBRARY.

*Unless when I look back on England with a selfish or a tender regard, my hours roll away very pleasantly, and I can again repeat with truth, that I have not regretted a single moment the step which I have taken. We are now at the height of the Winter dissipation, and I am peculiarly happy when I can steal away from great assemblies, and suppers of twenty or thirty people, to a more private party, of some of those persons whom I begin to call my friends. Till we are settled in our house little can be expected on our side; yet I have already given two or three handsome dinners; and though everything is grown dearer, I am not alarmed at the general view of my expence. Deyverdun salutes you; and we are agreed that few married Couples are better entitled to the flitch of bacon than we shall be at the end of the year. When I had written about half this Epistle my books arrived; at our first meeting all was rapture and confusion, and two or three posts, from the 2nd to this day, the fourteenth, have been suffered to depart unnoticed. Your letter of the 27th of January, which was not received till yesterday, has again awakened me, and I thought the surest way would be to send off this single sheet without any farther delay.

I sincerely rejoice in the stability of Parliament;⁸⁸ and the first faint dawn of reconciliation, which must however be effected by the equal balance of parties, rather than by the wisdom of the Country Gentlemen.⁸⁹*

Miss Firth,

After due salutations I trouble you with three or four Commissions, which I should not presume to offer to the greatness of the Baron or the delicacy of My Lady, but which I am persuaded you will chearfully undertake to oblige an old and sincere friend. 1. The employment which I have already hinted of your scissars in carving and despatching occasional debates from Woodfall's paper. 2. You are desired to call on Elmsley to ask him from time to time when he wrote to me last, and to urge him about taking and sending a Catalogue of my library with all convenient or inconvenient speed. 3. As many things will be deficient and as carriage will be less expensive than purchase, I propose sending for my plate, linnen, and China which now lye in Downing Street. My Agent Prendergast, an honest Cabinet maker, has received his instructions from Caplen, and I only desire that when he calls for that purpose he may have free permission to examine, pack, export, &c. A list was entrusted to Lord Sheffield which might be compared, copied, signed by him and transmitted by the post to me.

My Lady! —

But it would be highly incongruous to begin my letter at the bottom of the page. Adieu, therefore, till next post.

491.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, March 2nd, 1784.

Your despatch of Feb. 13th arrived safe yesterday, March 1st, and notwithstanding the winter obstacles of seas and roads there is, upon the whole, more delay than danger in the transactions of the posts. I am glad that my last appearance in Downing Street put an end to a course of abuse; but in spite of my profound veneration for dreams and omens, I flatter myself that the silence of one month will not always be interpreted as a certain testimony that I no longer exist. Before I quit the subject of dispatches, one word on Miss Firth's scissors whose operation you have so prudently checked. Their use was not intended to be daily but occasional, on some great and memorable debate in the Pandemonium. Such occasions might occur twenty or thirty times in the winter, and at one shilling each time the annual expence might have exceeded one Guinea. I had computed that such expence might be supported; but if you persist in a contrary opinion, I must submit.

You had given me notice that the purchase money of Lenborough would be paid in February, and as the title was so perfectly clear, I suppose the surplus (far beyond the amount of the Paris draught) is already in Gosling's hands, payable to my order. In that case I shall have no obligations to them for obeying my Commands. But as I was aware of the delays of the law, and of their narrow mercantile temper, I did conceive that they might scruple paying Mr. de Lessert's draught for 30,000 Livres some days before my money was actually in their shop. The French banker will draw at sight, but instead of the 20th of March, I have postponed his draught till the 20th of April. In due time I shall write to the Goose to give them notice not to ask a favour. It is to you only that I wish to be obliged, and if you inform them that you consider yourself as answer for the money, I cannot suspect that even their grovelling spirit will have any scruples. If instead of your word they should require your bond, you can give it in five minutes, and a few days when the purchase money is paid will release you from the obligation. The general comparison of the French and English funds I have not time to discuss. I think them more able, and ourselves more willing, to support our national faith, but if a man must trust his money to the Ocean, I think it more advisable to embark it on two separate bottoms. With regard to the scruples of the two Tabbies, I can only say that first they need not know anything of the matter, and secondly they will be so good as to allow me to think and act for myself.

A HAPPY WINTER OF STUDY AND SOCIETY.

With regard to the purchase of Lee's farm I am serious, and if I am abused for my follies I must have some credit for the more rational parts of my Conduct. At least you will give me credit when I declare that in a happy winter of study and society I have not once regretted the noise of St. Stephen's and the tiresome suspense of your incomprehensible politics, but I do most sincerely regret the decreasing value of my Senatorial commodity. As soon as you can, and as much as you can, is the advice which you will follow without my having the trouble of giving it. But in the meanwhile do not let us quarrel about the disposal of the Bearskin. I am not mad, nor do I mean to settle here for life. A small part of the indefinite price of my seat was destined to embelish my habitation, and if, after enjoying the comforts three or four years, I should leave my friend's house somewhat improved, I can see nothing very extravagant in the idea.

Thus far I have written before the departure of the post, and am preparing to pass the evening at a private representation of the Barbier de Seville, which will be followed by a lively and excellent supper. Embrace My Lady. I think of her often, especially every post day. Say a kind word to Kitty, I shall soon dream that she is dead likewise. – Gosling need not be apprized of the object of the Paris draught. – The additional £1500 which I wished to retain is superfluous, as I have already observed in my last.

You are or will be astonished with some farther orders for the march of plate, linnen, books, &c., but I am of opinion that the present moment is worth enjoying, and that carriage, even double carriage, is less expensive than purchase. – You have nothing to do with Wedgewood, but I shall soon consult My lady. The spring is delightful. I often snatch a walk on Deyverdun's terrace, and visit my books, which are already deposited, but I fear the house will not be accessible before the first of May. He says I am not patient, I say he is indolent; you know that the most harmonious pairs will sometime squabble.

492.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, April 31st, 1784.

Not a post has elapsed without my thinking of Sheffelina and intending her separate letter. This day which had been peremptorily fixed is now so far advanced that I have barely time to relieve my mind from some anxious English thoughts, the only ones that disturb the tranquil, chearful scenes of my well-judged retreat. – I have this moment perused the last English papers of the 20th instant, which contain by the bye your smart and as it seems successful dispute with the Minister.

Your adversaries (I fear they are the King, Lords and People) have now conquered, but at this distance I cannot discern the consequences of their victory, whether it will lead to treaty or dissolution.⁹⁰ If the latter, adieu once more to my poor seat and all my little hopes of compensation. Can nothing, nothing be done in any way by direct or indirect, by humble or strenuous measures? Upon my soul, I should consider my election dinner, £100, or 200 pounds as a tolerable conclusion of my cursed political life. But in this business perhaps you can do nothing. I therefore turn to another, which would seriously alarm me, had I less confidence in your friendship. You know (and the Goslings are apprized) that on the 20th of April M. de Lessert of Paris will draw upon them for 30,300 French Livres, and I should feel the deepest shame and affliction if his draught in my name should meet with an unfavourable reception. I am in your hands, and can say no more. Perhaps I have been too hasty, yet you cannot forget that I might reasonably act on your assurance of the Lenborough purchase money being paid before the end of February. Since that notice you have never said a word on the subject. Is the business concluded? what occasions a delay? Have any difficulties arisen? Adieu. You grow an idle correspondent. The winter has been long but not extremely rigorous. – The person who occupies Deyverdun's house is an invalid; yet I think we shall migrate before my birthday, the 8th of May.

E. G.

493.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, May 11th, 1784.

DISSOLUTION OF PARLIAMENT.

*Alas! alas! alas! We may now exchange our mutual condolence, and encourage each other to support with becoming fortitude the stroke of fate. Last Christmas, on the change of administration, I was struck with the thunderbolt of the unexpected event, and in the approaching dissolution I foresaw the loss of* the little but precious stock which I had so foolishly embarked in the parliamentary bottom. *The long continuance and various changes of the tempest rendered me by degrees callous and insensible: when the art of the Mariners was exhausted, I felt that we were sinking; I expected the ship to founder; and when the fatal moment arrived, I was even pleased to be delivered from hope and fear, to the calmness of despair.

I now turn my eyes, not on the past, but on the present and the future; what is lost I try to consider as if it never had existed; and every day I congratulate my own good fortune, let me say my prudence and resolution, in migrating from your noisy stage to a scene of repose and content. But even in this separate state, I was still anxious for my friend upon English Earth, and at first was much delighted with your hint, that you were setting off for Coventry, without any prospect of an opposition. Every post, Wednesdays and Saturdays, I eagerly looked for the intelligence of your victory; and in spite of my misbehaviour, which I do not deny, I must abuse My Lady, rather than you, for leaving me in so painful a situation. Each day raised and increased my apprehension; the Courier de l'Europe first announced the contest, the English papers proclaimed your defeat, and your last letter, which I received four days ago, showed me that you exerted first the spirit, and at last the temper, of a hero. Lord B[eauchamp] behaved as I should have expected, and I am not much surprized that you should have been swept away in the general unpopularity, since even in this quiet place, your friends are considered as a factious crew, acting in direct opposition both to the King and People.⁹¹

For yourself I am at a loss what to say. If this repulse should teach you to renounce all connexion with Kings and Ministers, and patriots, and parties, and parliaments; for all of which you are by many degrees too honest; I should exclaim, with Teague,⁹² your respectable countryman, "By my Shoul, Dear Joy, you have gained a loss." Private life, whether contemplative or active, has surely more solid and independent charms; you have some domestic comforts; Sheffield is still susceptible of useful and ornamental improvements, (alas! how much better might even the last £1500 have been laid out!) and if these cares are not sufficient to occupy your leisure, I can trust your restless and enterprizing spirit to find new methods of preserving yourself from the insipidity of repose. But I much fear your discontent and regret at being excluded from that Pandæmonium which we have so often cursed, as long as you were obliged to attend it. The leaders of the party will flatter you with the opinion of their friendship and your own importance; the warmth of your temper makes you credulous and unsuspicious; and, like the rest of our species, male and female, you are not absolutely blind to your own merit, or deaf to the voice of praise. Some place will be suggested, easy, honourable, certain, where nothing is wanted but a man of character and spirit to head a superior interest; the opposition, if any, is contemptible, and the expence cannot be large. You will go down, find almost every circumstance falsely stated, repent that you had engaged yourself, but you cannot desert those friends who are firmly attached to your cause; besides, the Money you have already spent would have been thrown away; another thousand will compleat the business: deeper and deeper will you plunge, and the last evil will be worse than the first.

A FREE-SPOKEN COUNSELLOR.

You see I am a free-spoken Counsellor; may I not be a true prophet! Did I consult my own wishes, I should observe to you, that as you are no longer a Slave, you might soon be transported, as you seem to desire, to one of the Alpine hills. The purity and calmness of the air is the best calculated to allay the heat of a political feaver; the education of the two princesses might be successfully conducted under your eye and that of my Lady; and if you had resolution to determine on a residence, not a visit, at Lausanne, your worldly affairs might repose themselves after their late fatigues. But you know that I am a friend to toleration, and am always disposed to make the largest allowance for the different natures of animals; a lion and a lamb, an eagle and a Worm. I am afraid we are too quiet for you; here it would not be easy for you to create any business; you have for some time neglected books, and I doubt whether you would not think our suppers and assemblies somewhat trifling and insipid.

For myself I am happy to tell, and you will be happy to hear, that this place has in every respect exceeded my best and most sanguine hopes. How often have you said, as often as I expressed any ill-humour against the hurry, the expence, and the precarious condition of my London life, "Ay, that is a nonsensical scheme of retiring to Lausanne that you have got into your head – a pretty fancy; you remember how much you liked it in your youth, but you have now seen more of the World, and if you were to try it again, you would find yourself most woefully disappointed"? I had it in my head, in my heart; I have tryed it; I have not been disappointed; and my knowledge of the World has only served to convince me, that a Capital and a Crowd may contain much less real society, than the small circle of this gentle retirement. The winter has been longer, but, as far as I can learn, less rigorous than in the rest of Europe. The spring in all its glory is now bursting upon us, and in our garden it is displayed in all its glory. I already occupy a temporary apartment, and we live in the lower part of the house; before you receive this our lodgers will be gone and we shall be in full possession. We have much to enjoy and something to do, which I take to be the happiest condition of human life.

Now for business, the kind of subject which I always undertake with the most reluctance, and leave with the most pleasure.* I do not thank you for standing between me and Gosling, you would despise my thanks. I know your sentiments, and you are not ignorant of mine. But the step on your side was necessary: even with your security Gosling has not done the thing in a graceful way, and even the letter which informs me that he will honour M. de Lessert's draught is written with unnecessary pertness. In a post or two I shall probably hear the payment acknowledged from Paris. The Goose hopes he shall soon be reimbursed: so do I likewise, and as no difficulties can arise with regard to the title, I should imagine that before you leave town the business, that is the payment, may be finally concluded.

ENGLISH FRIENDS AT LAUSANNE.

Of the persons who already cast a Hawk's eye on the poor surplus. There is one Harris whose bond, since he calls for it, must undoubtedly be discharged, though I should be glad if you could persuade him to be contented with the interest, and trust me some time longer with the principal. I write to Whitehead, the hirer of horses, by this post, and suppose you will hear no more of him. But I must confess that Richard Way's demand of one hundred Guineas fills me with surprize and indignation, and, unless you are decidedly of a contrary opinion, I do most absolutely refuse it. Had he only been useless something might be pleaded; but if you recollect that his entire service was the recommending me to Lovegrove, it would not be easy to compute the damages (for thousands) for which I might equitably sue that Land Jobber. Though I am not very favourably disposed to the Goslings, the surplus money, when the just demands are cleared, must be left in their hands, till I can employ it, but I am serious in my hint about Lee's farm, and wish you would correspond with Hugonin in the summer; by the bye, he has not pressed my tenants this winter. A Swiss Carrier by name Pache will call in a few days to send away the boxes of plate, linnen, china, which are probably packed for foreign service. The ornamental China was never intended to be sent.

Postscript.

I cannot as yet hear anything of a certain box left at my departure in Downing-place, and repeatedly and vainly demanded; by this time I hope that it is on the road. Elmsley, to whom it was peculiarly committed, is an ingenious, an honest, but a very idle fellow. The box contains some absolute necessaries, such as paper in particular, and you are a sufferer by the delay, as you will pay a double letter for the value, or at least the size, of a single one. The stationer's paper here is so extremely thin that I turned over two leaves at once, and the error is now irreparable. Adieu.

*And now, My Lady.

Let me approach your gentle, not grimalkin, presence, with deep remorse. You have indirectly been informed of my state of mind and body; (the whole winter I have not had the slightest return of the Gout, or any other complaint whatsoever;) you have been apprized, and are now apprized, of my motions, or rather of my perfect and agreeable repose; yet I must confess (and I feel) that something of a direct and personal exchange of sentiment has been neglected on my side, though I still persuade myself that when I am settled in my new house I shall have more subject, as well as leisure to write. Such tricks of lazyness your active spirit is a stranger to, though Mrs. Frazer complains that she has never had an answer to her last letters.* That aforesaid little Donna Catharina arrived here three or four days with her sister Miss Bristow: the widow is impatient to reach England: the maiden, who is much better, proposes staying here the whole summer with her dear Doctor Tissot, and returning on the approach of Winter to pass another season at Nice. *Poor Lady Pembroke!⁹³ you will feel for her; after a cruel alternative of hope and fear, her only daughter, Lady Charlotte, died at Aix at Provence; they have persuaded her to come to this place, where she is intimately connected with the Cerjat family. She has taken an agreeable house, about three miles from the town, and lives retired. But I have seen her; her behaviour is calm, but her affliction —

I accept with gratitude your friendly proposal of Wedgewood's ware, and should be glad to have it bought and packed, and sent without delay through Germany.* To you I leave the absolute and sole command, but if you have a mind to consult the Baron with regard to the ornamental, the creature is not totally devoid of taste: the number, choice, pattern, sizes, &c. you will determine, and *I shall only say, that I wish to have a very compleat service for two courses and a desert, and that our suppers are numerous, frequently fifteen or twenty persons. Adieu. I do not mean this as your letter. You are very good to poor Kitty. With you I do not condole about Coventry.*

May 11th, 1784. I wrote the first page of my letter last week.

494.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, May 28th, 1784.

Dear Madam,

*I begin without preface or Apology, as if I had received your letter by the last post. In my own defence I know not what to say; but if I were disposed to recriminate, I might observe that you yourself are not perfectly free from the sin of laziness and procrastination. I have often wondered why we are not fonder of letter-writing: we all delight to talk of ourselves, and it is only in letters, in writing to a friend, that we can enjoy that conversation, not only without reproach or interruption, but with the highest propriety and mutual satisfaction; sure that the person whom we address feels an equal, or at least a strong and lively interest in the consideration of the pleasing subject. On the subject therefore of self I will entertain a friend, to whom none of my thoughts or actions, none of my pains or pleasures can ever be indifferent.

When I first cherished the design of retiring to Lausanne, the loss I can hardly call it of your society, but at least of your neighbourhood, and the fear of your anxiety and disapprobation have always stood before me as the most powerful objections, and I was much more apprehensive of wounding your tender attachment, than of offending Lord Sheffield's manly and vehement friendship. In the abolition of the board of trade, the motives for my retreat became more urgent and forcible; I wished to break loose, yet I delayed above a year before I could take my final resolution; and the letter in which I disclosed it to you cost me one of the most painful struggles of my life. As soon as I had conquered that difficulty, all meaner obstacles fell before me, and in a few weeks I found myself at Lausanne, astonished at my firmness and my success.

THE REIGN OF SINECURES AT AN END.

Perhaps you still blame or still lament the step which I have taken. If on your own account, I can only sympathize with your feelings, the recollection of which often costs me a sigh; If on mine, let me fairly state what I have escaped in England, and what I have found at Lausanne. Recollect the tempests of this winter, how many anxious days I should have passed, how many noisy, turbulent, hot, unwholesome nights, while my political existence, and that of my friends, was at stake; yet these feeble efforts would have been unavailing; I should have lost my seat in Parliament, and after the extraordinary expence of another Year, I must still have pursued the road of Switzerland, unless I had been tempted by some selfish Patron, or by Lord S.'s aspiring spirit, to purchase at a most inconvenient price a new seat; and once more, at the beginning of an opposition, to engage in new scenes of business. As to the immediate prospect of any thing like a quiet and profitable retreat, I should not know where to look; my friends are no longer in power. With *Pitt* and his party I have no connection; and were he disposed to favour a Man of letters, it is difficult to say what he could give, or what I would accept. The reign of pensions and sinecures is at an end, and a commission in the Excise or customs, the summet of my hopes, would give me bread at the expence of leisure and liberty. When I revolve these circumstances in my mind, my only regret, I repeat it again and again, is, that I did not embrace this salutary measure three, five, ten years ago.

Thus much I thought it necessary to say, and shall now dismiss this unpleasing part of the subject. For my situation here, health is the first consideration, and on that head your tenderness had conceived some degree of anxiety. I know not whether it has reached you that I had a fit of the Gout the day after my arrival. The deed is true, but the cause was accidental; carelessly stepping down a flight of stairs, I sprained my ancle; and my ungenerous enemy instantly took advantage of my weakness. But since my breaking that double chain, I have enjoyed a winter of the most perfect health that I have perhaps ever known, without any mixture of the little flying incommodities which in my best days have sometimes disturbed the tranquillity of my English life. You are not ignorant of Dr. Tissot's reputation, and his merit is even above his reputation. He assures me, that in his opinion, the moisture of England and Holland is most pernicious, the dry pure air of Switzerland most favourable, to a Gouty constitution: that experience justifies the Theory; and that there are fewer martyrs of that disorder in this, than in any other country in Europe.

To face p. 108, Vol. II.

HIS HOUSE, TERRACE, AND GARDEN.

This winter has every where been most uncommonly severe; and you seem in England to have had your full share of the general hardship: but in this corner, surrounded by the Alps, it has rather been long than rigorous; and its duration stole away our spring, and left us no interval between furs and silks. We now enjoy the genial influence of the Climate and the Season; and no station was ever more calculated to enjoy them than Deyverdun's house and garden, which are now become my own. You will not expect that the pen should describe, what the pencil would imperfectly delineate. A few circumstances may, however, be mentioned. My library is about the same size with that in Bentinck Street, with this difference, however, that instead of looking on a paved court twelve feet square, I command a boundless prospect of vale, mountain, and water, from my three windows; my apartment is compleated by a spacious light closet, or store-room, with a bed-chamber and dressing-room. Deyverdun's habitation is pleasant and convenient, though less extensive: for our common use we have a very handsome winter apartment of four rooms; and on the ground-floor, two cool saloons for the summer, with a sufficiency, or rather superfluity, of offices, &c. A Terrace, one hundred yards long, extends beyond the front of the House, and leads to a close impenetrable shrubbery; and from thence the circuit of a long and various walk, carries me round a meadow and vineyard. The intervals afford abundant supply of fruit, and every sort of vegetables; and if you add, that this villa (which has been much ornamented by my friend) touches the best and most sociable part of the town, you will agree with me, that few persons, either princes or philosophers, enjoy a more desirable residence.

Deyverdun, who is proud of his own works, often walks me round, pointing out, with knowledge and enthusiasm, the beauties that change with every step and with every variation of light. I share, or at least I sympathize, with his pleasure: he appears content with my progress, and has already told several people, that he does not despair of making me a Gardener. Be that as it may, you will be glad to hear that I am, by my own choice, infinitely more in motion, and in the open air, than I ever have been formerly. Yet my perfect liberty and leisure leave me many studious hours; and as the circle of our acquaintance retire into the Country, I shall be much less engaged in company and diversion. I have seriously resumed the prosecution of my history; each day and each month adds something to the completion of the great work. The progress is slow, the labour continual, and the end remote and uncertain. Yet every day brings its amusement, as well as labour; and though I dare not fix a term, even in my own fancy, I advance, with the pleasing reflection, that the business of publication (should I be detained here so long) must enforce my return to England, and restore me to the best of mothers and friends.

With health and competence, with a full independence of mind and action, a delightful habitation, a true friend, and many pleasant acquaintance, you will allow, in the meanwhile, that I am rather an object of envy than pity; and if you were more conversant with the use of the French language, I would seriously propose to you to repose yourself with us in this fine country. But my indirect intelligence (on which I sometimes depend with more implicit faith than on the kind dissimulation of your friendship) gives me reason to hope that the last winter has been more favourable to your health than the preceding one. Assure me of it yourself honestly and truly, and you will afford me one of the most lively pleasures* that I am capable of receiving. Write soon, and indeed I will not be so tardy in my answer. Caplin presents his duty to you. You will be sorry to hear that he seems tolerably satisfied, and talks French (when I am not present) like a magpye. The English who have passed the Winter at Nice, Lady Pembroke, &c., are flocking here. I am civil without living among them, but you will rejoyce to hear that Mr. and Madame Necker pass the summer in our neighbourhood. I must request a short delay in your Midsummer draught as I am ignorant whether some money is paid in, but it need not exceed a fortnight or three weeks. Adieu.

495.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, June 19th, 1784.

The Goslings cannot do a handsome thing with a tolerable grace. They have accepted and paid Lessert's draught, but instead of taking your word or note or bond, for the entire sum as a separate loan, they have eked it out by squeezing to the last drop of between £300 and 400 of my cash in their hands without leaving me a shilling to supply the necessary and current demands. Alas, poor Lymington!! By this post I write to them, as well as to the Darrels, and one way or another I must create some temporary credit till the business of Lenborough is settled. When in the Devil's name (for to him most rightfully belong all money transactions) will it be concluded? Originally the purchase-money was to be paid in February, we are now in the middle of June. You have never suggested any impediments; even in your last you say it is in a fair way, yet surely four or five extraordinary months exceed even the common forms and delays of lawyers, auctioneers, and all that unfeeling race of men. I cannot suspect your friendship or diligence, yet possibly the Coventry election and your more early retreat to Sheffield may have thrown you a little out of the road: but I trust that you will soon recover your lost ground (if any) and finish the race with speed and success. You are sensible that it will deliver me from the remnant of my Worldly anxieties. If the purchaser is an honest and responsible man, might he not be persuaded to advance £500 on the purchase-money; no uncommon favour, and which now would be most singularly acceptable. If, on the other hand, he shuffles through weakness of mind or purse, I could support (in my present regular economy) the idea of reserving the Estate till more prosperous times, and of finding some real or personal security for the money which the Goslings have advanced.

HIS HOSPITALITIES.

*In this glorious season I frequently give tea and supper to a dozen men and women with ease and reputation, and heartily wish you and My Lady were among them. In this corner of Europe we enjoy, or shall speedily enjoy, (besides threescore English, with Lady Pembroke, and forty French, with the Duchess de Sivrac at their head), M. et Madame Necker, the Abbé Raynal, the Hereditary prince of Brunswick, Prince Henry of Prussia,⁹⁴ perhaps the Duke of Cumberland; yet I am still more content with the humble natives, than with most of these illustrious names. Adieu. The post is on the wing, and you owe me a long Epistle. I am, as usual, in the firm intention of writing next week to my lady.* I hear from Ostend of the landing of four boxes: but I know not whether the Wedgewood is among them. If not, I hope it will soon follow. Adieu.

Could you not write to Gosling to release my poor Cash, and to take the whole of Lessert's sum on yourself?

496.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, October 18th, 1784.

*Since my retreat to Lausanne our Correspondence has never received so long an interruption; and as I have been equally taciturn with the rest of the English World, it may now be a problem among that sceptical nation, whether the historian of the decline and fall be a living substance or an empty name. So tremendous is the sleepy power of laziness and habit, that the silence of each post operated still more strongly to benumb the hand, and to freeze the Epistolary ink. How or when I should have naturally awakened, I cannot tell; but the pressure of my affairs, and the arrival of your last letter, compell me to remember that you are entrusted with the final amputation of the best limb of my property. The subject is in itself so painful, that I have postponed it, like a child's physic, from day to day; and losing whole mornings, as I walked about my library, in useless regret and impotent resolution. You will be amazed to hear that (after peeping to see that you were well, and returned from Ireland) I have not yet had the courage to peruse your letter, for fear of meeting with some gloomy intelligence; and I will now finish what I have to say of pecuniary matters, before I know whether its contents will fortify or overthrow my unbyassed sentiments.*

About three weeks ago I received the conveyance of Lenbourough, and immediatly executed the deeds in the presence of the Hon^ble and Reverend Edward Conway, and Mr. Jones of Ireland, a nephew of Lord Tyrone. A coach was setting off, and the writings properly packed were directed to Mr. Elmsley, and in the inner Cover to L^d Sheffield to be left till called for: before this time they should be safe in London; the purchaser is said to be impatient. I am so likewise, and nothing (I should apprehend) can prevent you from delivering the land and receiving the Money. The miserable state of the funds must excuse the lowness of the price, and annihilate any probable benefit of a short delay: but when I look back (a foolish retrospect!) to our moderate expectation of £20,000 and calculate the interest, money, costs, vexations, &c., of eleven Years, I cannot look upon myself as a very successful man. Consider that since my departure I have fairly or foully lost at least £2000 on which I might depend with the most rational confidence, £1000 on the abatement of the Lenborough price, and £1000 by the dissolution of Parliament. *To what purpose (you will say) are these tardy and useless repinings? To arraign your manager? No, I am satisfied with the skill and firmness of the pilot, and only complain of the untoward violence of the tempest. To repent of your retreat into Switzerland? No, surely, every subsequent event has tended to make it as necessary as it has proved agreeable. Why then these lamentations? Hear and attend.

HIS PECUNIARY AFFAIRS.

It is to interest (if possible more strongly) your zeal and friendship, to justify a sort of avarice, of a love of money, very foreign to my character, but with which I cling to these last fragments of my fortune.* According to the terms of the conveyance, £12,000 are destined for the Goslings and £3500 for me, in all £15,500: yet I am almost sure that you mentioned £15,650 as the entire price. Of this remainder, Gosling will instantly seize his reimbursement of the Paris sum, £300 bond and, as I fear, some small arrears of interest. Besides this Harris's heirs have made a just claim; Way's damned hundred Guineas I cannot digest, and a long unknown bill of Newton rises to my imagination in all its horrors. Of tradesmen's debts I have left none behind me except about 300 pounds for the hire of horses to Whitehead and the purchase of books to Elmsley. When all these demands are summed and discharged, I tremble at the balance, and indeed I have found through life that I had always more to pay, and less to receive, than I expected. *As far as I can judge from the experience of a year, though I find Lausanne much more expensive than I imagined, yet my style of living (and a very handsome style it is) will be brought nearly within my ordinary revenues. I wish our poor Country could say as much! But it was always my favourite and rational wish, that at the winding up of my affairs I might possess a sum from one to two thousand pounds, neither buried in land, nor locked up in the funds, but free, light, and ready to obey any call of interest, or pleasure, or virtue; to defray any extraordinary expence, support any delay, or remove any obstacle. For the attainment of this object, I trust in your assistance.*

First, I must desire you to call in the bills (particularly Newton's) to cast up the amount of all the deductions on the £3500, and to send me the list, but to pay as little of it as you possibly can (except the Goslings), till you have heard again from me. I am sensible however that the residue can scarcely by any contrivance be brought even to the smallest of the above-mentioned sums (£1000), and here your friendship must again interpose to engage the Goslings to supply that deficiency on our Joint-bond. The money (I could wish it were £1500 in all) I should probably vest in India bonds, and the difference of ½ or of 1 per Cent. would be no formidable tax. At the end of three or four years I should be sure of replacing the principal from the profits of my history, without indulging any fanciful expectations from Aunt Hester, who complains a little of your silence. *Thus much of this money transaction; to you I need add no other stimulative, than to say that my ease and comfort very much depend on the success of this plan.*

I have now opened your letter; send them to the Devil if they talk of their moneys lying dead. Have I not been saddled with the interest of my mortgage? From whom has the delay proceeded? did they not insist on sending the deeds to Lausanne? Have I not returned them with uncommon diligence? Since Hugonin will not write to me himself, I must press and conjure him through you to get the rents paid on or before the 1st of December. I know not what may be this College business, but am glad to hear no more of the scruples of the Chief tenant. Cannot Hug. pick me up some odd money from Wooddyer?

On folding my Epistle, it turned out so minute that a cover became decent, and you will expect a few lines for your additional postage. First of me. I cannot esteem myself totally foolish when I reflect on the success of a scheme executed in opposition to the wisest of my friends. I have now given this place a year's tryal, and find that the climate agrees with my health, (I have not had a single return of the gout) and the people, their manners, their way of life, are suited to my Genius: some rubs will intervene, and even in my domestic life neither Deyverdun nor myself are Angels, but on the whole, I shall number this among, or rather above, the Happiest of my years, and nothing but your salutary hand to clear and establish my pecuniary concerns is now wanting.

*As I thought every man of sense and fortune in Ireland must be satisfied, I did not conceive the cloud so dark as you represent it.* If the growth of the Papists could awaken the fears and prejudices of the Protestants, it might be lucky, and the discovery of French gold would do more good than mischief. *I will seriously peruse the 8^o, and in due time the 4^o Edition; it would become a Classic book, if you could find leisure (will you ever find it?) to introduce some kind of order and ornament. You must negotiate directly with Deyverdun; but the State will not hear of parting with their only Reynolds.⁹⁵ I embrace My Lady; let her be angry, provided she be well. Adieu. Yours.

P.S. The saving Ireland⁹⁶ may have amused you in the Summer; but how do you mean to employ the Winter? Do you not cast a longing, lingering look at St. Stephen's Chappel? With your fiery spirit, and firm judgment, I almost wish you there; not for your benefit, but for the public. If you resolve to recover your seat,* pay a specific sum for a certain election, – rather than *listen to any fallacious and infinite projects of interest, contest, return, petition, &c. Dixi.*

497.
To Lady Sheffield

Lausanne, October 22nd, 1784.

*A few weeks ago, as I was walking on our Terrace with Mr. Tissot, the celebrated Physician, Mr. Mercier, the author of the Tableau de Paris; the Abbé Raynal, Mr., Madame, and Mademoiselle Necker,⁹⁷ the Abbé de Bourbon, a natural son of Lewis the fifteenth, the hereditary prince of Brunswick, Prince Henry of Prussia, and a dozen Counts, Barons, and extraordinary persons, among whom was a natural son of the Empress of Russia —

Are you satisfied with this list? which I could enlarge and embellish, without departing from truth; and was not the Baron of Sheffield (profound as he is on the subject of the American trade) doubly mistaken with regard to Gibbon and Lausanne? Whenever I used to hint my design of retiring, that illustrious Baron, after a proper effusion of damned fools, condescended to observe, that such an obscure nook in Switzerland might please me in the ignorance of youth, but that after tasting for so many years the various society of Paris and London, I should soon be tired with the dull and uniform round of a provincial town. In the winter, Lausanne is indeed reduced to its native powers; but during the summer, it is possibly, after Spa, one of the most favourite places of general resort. The voyage of Switzerland, the Alps, and the Glaciers, is become a fashion; Tissot attracts the Invalids, especially from France; and a Colony of English have taken up the habit of spending their winters at Nice, and their summers in the Pays de Vaud. Such are the splendour and variety of our summer Visitors; and you will agree with me more readily than the Baron, when I say that this variety, instead of being a merit, is, in my opinion, one of the very few objections to the residence of Lausanne. After the dissipation of the winter, I expected to have enjoyed, with more freedom and solitude, myself, my friend, my books, and this delicious paradise; but my position and character make me here a sort of a public character, and oblige me to see and be seen. However, it is my firm resolution for next summer to assume the independence of a Philosopher, and to be visible only to the persons whom I like.

MDLLE. NECKER AND PRINCE HENRY OF PRUSSIA.

On that principle I should not, most assuredly, have avoided the Neckers and Prince Henry. The former have purchased the Barony of Copet near Geneva; and as the buildings were very much out of repair, they passed this summer at a country-house at the gates of Lausanne. They afford a new example, that persons who have tasted of greatness, can seldom return with pleasure to a private station. In the moments when we were alone he conversed with me freely, and I believe truly, on the subject of his administration and fall; and has opened several passages of modern history, which would make a very good figure in the American book. If they spent the summers at the Castle of Copet, about nine leagues from hence, a fortnight's or three weeks' visit would be a pleasant and healthful excursion; but, alas! I fear there is little appearance of its being executed. Her health is impaired by the agitation of her mind: instead of returning to Paris, she is ordered to pass the winter in the southern provinces of France, and our last parting was solemn; as I very much doubt whether I shall ever see her again. They have now a very troublesome charge, which you will experience in a few years – the disposal of a Baroness. Mademoiselle Necker, one of the greatest heiresses in Europe, is now about eighteen – wild, vain, but good-natured, and with a much larger provision of wit than beauty; what encreases their difficulties is their Religious obstinacy of marrying her only to a Protestant. It would be an excellent opportunity for a young Englishman of a great name and a fair reputation. Prince Henry must be a man of sense; for he took more notice, and expressed more esteem for me, than any body else. He is certainly (without touching his military character) a very lively and entertaining companion. He talked with freedom, and generally with contempt, of most of the princes of Europe; with respect of the Empress of Russia; but never mentioned the name of his brother, except once, when he hinted that it was he himself that won the battle of Rosbach.

His nephew, and our nephew, the hereditary prince of Brunswick, is here for his education, a soft and heavy piece of German dough. Of the English, who have lived very much as a national colony, you will like to hear of Mrs. Fraser and one more. Donna Catherina pleases every body by the perfect simplicity of her state of Nature, and I am glad to see that her giddyness is often checked by a sad remembrance of the General. You know she has had resolution to return from England (where she told me she saw you) to Lausanne, for the sake of Miss Bristow, who is in a very bad way, and in a few days they set off for Nice. The other is the Eliza; she passed through Lausanne, in her road from Italy to England; poorly in health, but still adorable, (nay, do not frown!) and I enjoyed some delightful hours by her bedside. She wrote me a line from Paris, but has not executed her promise of visiting Lausanne in the month of October.

My pen has run much faster, and much farther, than I intended on the subject of others; yet, in describing them, I have thrown some light over myself and my situation. A Year, a very short one, has now elapsed since my arrival at Lausanne; and after a cool review of my sentiments, I can sincerely declare, that I have never, during a single moment, repented of having executed my absurd project of retiring to Lausanne. It is needless to dwell on the fatigue, the hurry, the vexation which I must have felt in the narrow and dirty circle of English Politics. My present life wants no foil, and shines by its own native light. The chosen part of my library is now arrived, and arranged in a room full as good as that in Bentinck Street, with this difference indeed, that instead of looking on a stone Court, twelve feet square, I command, from three windows of plate glass, an unbounded prospect of many a league of vineyard, of fields, of wood, of lake, and of mountains; a scene which Lord S. will tell you is superior to all you can imagine. The climate, though severe in Winter, has perfectly agreed with my constitution; and the year is accomplished without any return of the gout. An excellent house, a good table, a pleasant garden, are no contemptible ingredients in human happiness. The general style of society hits my fancy; I have cultivated a large and agreeable circle of acquaintance, and am much deceived if I have not laid the foundations of two or three more intimate and valuable connections; but their names would be indifferent, and it would require pages, or rather volumes, to describe their persons and characters.

With regard to my standing dish, my domestic friend, I could not be much disappointed, after an intimacy of eight and twenty years. His heart and his head are excellent; he has the warmest attachment for me, he is satisfied that I have the same for him: some slight imperfections must be mutually supported; two batchelors, who have lived so long alone and independent, have their peculiar fancies and humours, and when the mask of form and ceremony is laid aside, every moment in a family life has not the sweetness of the honey moon, even between the husbands and wives who have the truest and most tender regard for each other.

Should you be very much surprized to hear of my being married? Amazing as it may seem, I do assure you that the event is less improbable than it would have appeared to myself a twelfthmonth ago. Deyverdun and I have often agreed, in jest and in earnest, that a house like ours would be regulated, and graced, and enlivened, by an agreeable female Companion; but each of us seems desirous that his friend should sacrifice himself for the public good. Since my residence here I have lived much in women's company; and, to your credit be it spoken, I like you better the more I see of you. Not that I am in love with any particular person. I have discovered about half a dozen Wives who would please me in different ways, and by various merits: one as a Mistress (a Widow, vastly like the Eliza: if she returns I am to bring them together); a second, a lively entertaining acquaintance; a third, a sincere good-natured friend; a fourth, who would represent with grace and dignity at the head of my table and family; a fifth, an excellent economist and housekeeper; and a sixth, a very useful nurse. Could I find all these qualities united in a single person, I should dare to make my addresses, and should deserve to be refused.*

THE LOSS OF HIS VALET.

In the meanwhile I have experienced a separation from a more humble companion with whom I expected to pass the remainder of my life: in a few days Caplin departs for England. He had long complained of his health, and though he made some progress in French, he could not reconcile himself to the people and country, and his personal attachment to me was less forcible than gratitude perhaps would have required. As he has saved some money in my service he proposes to set up in London in the Upholstery business, and will be a very useful correspondent, as he has been a very able assistant here in my first arrangements. I shall advise him to go down to Sheffield, and you may question him about a thousand little particulars. It is an heavy loss, yet I have the good luck to procure in his place a Valet de Chambre, a man of substance and reputation of this Country, but who has lived some years at Paris: he has passed three months in the school of Caplin, and as I am assured of his honesty and diligence I have very good hopes of his address and intelligence.

*You hint in some of your letters, or rather postscripts, that you consider me as having renounced England, and having fixed myself for the rest of my life in Switzerland, and that you suspect the sincerity of any vague or insidious schemes of purchase or return. To remove, as far as I can, your doubts and suspicions, I will tell you, on that interesting subject, fairly and simply as much as I know of my own intentions. There is little appearance that I shall be suddenly recalled by offer of a place or pension. I have no claim to the friendship of your young Minister, and should he propose a Commissioner of the Customs, or Secretary at Paris, the former objects of my low ambition, Adam in Paradise would refuse them with contempt. Here therefore I shall certainly live till I have finished the remainder of my history; an arduous work, which does not proceed so fast as I expected amidst the avocations of Society, and miscellaneous Study. As soon as it is compleated, most probably in three or four years, I shall infallibly return to England, about the month of May or June; and the necessary labour of printing with care two or three quarto Volumes, will detain me till their publication, in the ensuing Spring. Lord Sheffield and yourself will be the loadstone that most forcibly attracts me; and as I shall be a vagabond on the face of the earth, I shall be the better qualified to domesticate myself with you, both in town and country. Here, then, at no very extravagant distance, we have the certainty (if we live) of spending a year together, in the peace and freedom of a friendly interest; and a year is no very contemptible portion of this mortal existence.

HIS INVITATION TO THE SHEFFIELDS.

Beyond that period (I mean of the year, not of the existence, though it be true enough of that likewise) all is dark, but not gloomy. Whether, after the final completion of my history, I shall return to Lausanne, or settle in England, must depend on a thousand events which lye beyond the reach of human foresight, the state of public and private affairs, my own health, the health and life of Deyverdun, the fate of two elderly Ladies, the various changes which may have rendered Lausanne more dear, or less agreeable, to me than at present. But without losing ourselves in this distant futurity, which perhaps we may never see, and without giving any positive answer to Maria's parting question, whether I should be buried in England or Switzerland, let me seriously and earnestly ask you, whether you do not mean to visit me next summer? The defeat at Coventry would, I should think, facilitate the project; since the Baron is no longer detained the whole winter from his domestic affairs, nor is there any attendance on the house that keeps him till Midsummer in dust and dispute. I can send you a pleasant route, through Normandy, Paris, and Lyons, a visit to the Glaciers, and your return down the Rhine, which would be commodiously executed in three or four months, at no very extravagant expence, and would be productive of health and spirits to you, of entertainment to you both, and of instruction to the Baronessa. Without the smallest inconvenience to myself, I am able to lodge Yourselves and family, by arranging you in the winter apartment, which in the summer season is not of any use to us. I think you will be satisfied with your habitation, and already see you in your dressing-room; a small but pleasant room, with a delightful prospect to the West and South. If poor Aunt Kitty (you oblige me beyond expression by your tender care of that excellent Woman) if she were only ten years younger, I would desire you to take her with you, but I much fear we shall never meet again.

You will not complain of the brevity of this Epistle; I expect, in return, a full and fair account of yourself, your thoughts and actions, soul and body, present and future, in the safe, though unreserved, confidence of friendship. The Baron in two words hinted but an indifferent account of your health; you are a fine machine; but as he was absent in Ireland, I hope I understand the cause and the remedy. Next to yourself, I want to hear of the two Baronesses. You must give me a faithful picture (and though a mother you can give it) of their present external and internal forms; for a year has now elapsed, and in their lives a year is an age.* Has the gentle Louisa (though you had discovered some marks of fire) expanded as much as you could expect in knowledge and understanding? I see Maria an accomplished and elegant young Woman, and only wish to know whether you have smoothed away some of the asperities of that fine diamond. Adieu.

Remember me to Miss Firth: My Wedgewood's China. But Caplin will put everything in motion.

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

I hear from Mrs. Frazer but an indifferent account of Mrs. Holroyd of Bath. I want to have a cool and faithful state of Mrs. G., her health and spirits: our correspondence is languid, but indeed it is rather her fault than mine.

498.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, October 27th, 1784.

My Dear Madam,

If ever the excuse of procrastination be allowable it is when we ourselves are expecting a letter to which we are entitled in the due course of correspondence. Not that among friends the cold ideas of form and duty of debt and payment call find any admittance; but that every post that approaches and flyes away, seems to mark and postpone the natural opportunity of writing by alternately raising and disappointing our hopes. I am not indeed either surprized or angry at your long silence; the correspondence of distant friends will inevitably languish without any diminution of their mutual affection: their sentiments are still the same but their ideas become different; they no longer think or read or converse or act in the same sphere, and the object of their intercourse will be at last reduced to the reciprocal desire of being informed of each other's health and happiness. Could we persuade ourselves to convey that information every week or month in a billet of four lines, each friend would be satisfied: but the distance seems to require a longer Epistle, and the obligation of writing a great deal prevents us from writing at all, and leaves our friend in the doubt (which I now most anxiously feel) whether that silence be not occasioned by the want of health or spirits.

It is more particularly in a situation like ours that we are not prompted to write by the agitation and variety of the scenes which surround us. Nothing can be more uniform and tranquil than your Bath Life, except it be that which I lead at Lausanne. A regular alternative of Study and society carries away the hours and days in a smooth and pleasant Revolution, and I have scarcely commenced a month before I am astonished to find myself at the end of it – a sure indication of a quiet and domestic state of happiness. I am well satisfied with my union with a known and tryed friend, though (such are the infirmities of human nature) all our moments cannot partake of the Honey-moon. Among the people of the Country I have found some, I have formed many more Connections; their manners, their conversation, their style of living are perfectly adapted to my taste, and the sameness of the company is relieved in the Summer by a concourse of strangers whom health or curiosity or fashion invite to consult Tissot or to visit the Alps.

A TEMPERATE DIET AND EASY MIND.

As a kind of public character, a live Author, I am a little too much exposed to visits and compliments, but I was much delighted with the unexpected meeting of the Neckers. Tired of greatness and ambition (a polite phrase for a disgraced minister), they purchased an estate in Switzerland, and while the Castle was repairing they passed the summer in a country-house near Lausanne. Their society might diversify my life with occasional excursions; but, alas! her health is very much affected, and I think it extremely doubtful whether she will be able to revisit this country again. Of myself I can give you a much more pleasing account, nor do I remember a year in which I have enjoyed a more perfect state of health; the air though sharp is pure; it may be dangerous for weak lungs, but is excellently suited to a gouty constitution, and during the whole twelfth month I have never once been attacked by my old Enemy. Of Dr. Cadogan's three rules, I can observe two, a temperate diet and a easy mind. I am not agitated by the hopes and fears, and regrets of my London life, and whatever cares still pursue and overtake me are blown over by an English wind. I am afraid you sometimes sigh over me as an Exile. If I were fixed as a foreign Minister at Naples, or Petersburgh, you would be reconciled to my situation, yet such a splendid situation would be corroded by many a secret anxiety, and content is surely preferable to greatness. Adieu, My Dear Madam; give me a satisfactory line, and ever believe me,

Yours,

E. G.

499.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, March 13th, 1785.

*My long silence (and it has been long) must not, on this occasion, be imputed to lazyness, though that little Devil may likewise have been busy. But you cannot forget how many weeks I remained in suspence, expecting every post the final sentence, and not knowing what to say in that passive uncertainty. It is now something more than a fortnight since your last letter, and that of Gosling informed me of the event. I have intended every day to write, and every day I have started back with reluctance and disgust, from the consideration of the wretched subject. Lenborough irrecoverably gone, for three-fourths of its real, at least of its ancient, Value; my seat in Parliament (for the subject now presses home upon me) sunk without the smallest equivalent in the abyss of your cursed politics, and a balance neatly cyphered and summed by Gosling, which shews me a very shallow purse, in which others have a clearer right to dip than myself.

March 21st.

Another week has now elapsed, and though nothing is changed in this too faithful state of my affairs, I feel myself able to encounter them with more spirit and resolution; to look on the future, rather than the past; on the fair, rather than on the foul side of the prospect. I shall speak in the confidence of friendship, and while you listen to the more doleful tale of my wants and wishes, You will have the satisfaction of hearing some circumstances in my present situation of a less unpleasing nature.

1. In the first place, I most heartily rejoyce in the sale, however unfavourable, of the Bucks Estate. Considering the dullness of the times, and the high interest of money, it is not a little to obtain even a tolerable price, and I am sensible how much your patience and industry have been exercised to extort the payment* from a knavish or obstinate purchaser. Without supposing a shilling of balance in Gosling's hands, my circumstances are improved by the sale to the annual amount of £150; of £50 which I was obliged to add for the interest of the mortgage, of £100 which I received from my French annuity.

*2. Your resistance to my Swiss expedition was more friendly than wise. Had I yielded, after eighteen months of suspense and anxiety, I should now, a still poorer man, be driven to embrace the same resource, which has succeeded according to, or even beyond, my most sanguine expectation. I do not pretend to have discovered the terrestrial paradise, which has not been known in this World since the fall of Adam; but I can truly declare, (now the charms of novelty are long since faded,) that I have found the plan of life the best adapted to my temper and my situation. I am now writing to you in a room as good as that in Bentinck Street, with three large windows of plate glass which command the country, the lake, and the mountains, and the opening prospect of the spring. The aforesaid room is furnished without magnificence, but with every conveniency for warmth, ease, and study, and the walls are already covered with more than two thousand volumes, the choice of a chosen library. I have health, friends, an amusing society, and perfect freedom. (A Commissioner of the Excise! the idea makes me sick).* Even in Trifles, though it is not a Trifle, I have been singularly lucky, and you will conceive an high opinion of Blondel, my new Valet de Chambre, when I assure you that, except in the knowledge of books and the Upholstery business, I no longer regret Caplen. He probably related all the minute circumstances of my state, and I find, that without any prejudice for the Country and people, he has not represented them in an unfavourable light. *If you ask me what I have saved by my retreat to Lausanne, I will fairly tell you (in the two great articles of a Carriage and a house in town, and breathing place at Hampton Court, both which were indispensable, and are now annihilated, with the difference of Clubs, public places, servants' wages, &c.) about four hundred pounds, or Guineas, a year; no inconsiderable sum, when it must be annually found as addition to an expence which is somewhat larger than my present revenue.

HIS ESTABLISHMENT AT LAUSANNE.

3. "What is then," you will ask, "my present establishment?" This is not by any means a cheap Country; and, except in the article of wine, I could give a dinner or make a coat, perhaps for the same price in London as at Lausanne. My chief advantage arises from the things which I do not want; and in some respects my style of living is enlarged by the encrease of my relative importance – an obscure batchelor in England, the master of a considerable house at Lausanne. Here I am expected to return entertainments, to receive Ladies, &c. and to perform many duties of society, which, though agreeable enough in themselves, contribute to inflame a Housekeeper's bills. From the disbursements of the first year I cannot form any just estimate; the extraordinary expences of the journey, carriage of heavy goods from England, the acquisition of many books, which it was not expedient to transport, the purchase of furniture, wine, fitting up my library, and the irregularity of a new Ménage, have consumed a pretty large sum. But in a quiet, prudent, regular course of life, I think I can support myself with comfort and honour for six or seven hundred pounds a year, instead of a thousand or eleven hundred in England.* I can look forward with strong and rational hope. The departure of the two matrons, or not to build on the ice, the mere suppression of the Bath jointure will give me more than that income, which may even be enlarged by turning Buriton into an annuity.

*Besides these uncertainties, (uncertain at least as to the time,) I have a sure and honourable supply from my own pen. I continue my history with pleasure and assiduity; the way is long and laborious, yet I see the end, and I can almost promise to land in England next September twelfthmonth, with a Manuscript of the current value of three thousand pounds, which will afford either a small income or a large capital. It is in the meanwhile that my situation is somewhat painful and difficult.* From the French and English funds and the various produce on my Copper share, I receive between two or three hundred pounds: the rent of Buriton is between six and seven hundred, but when you have deducted taxes, repairs, Mrs. G.'s jointure (£300 clear) &c., weigh the residue; it will not break down the scale. It happens unluckily enough that this year there will be an extraordinary deduction (at least one hundred guineas) of the fine which is paid every seven years for the renewal of Horn farm. Since my arrival here, I have never received a line from Hugonin, to whom I wrote a long letter last summer, and I fear his eyes and infirmities disqualify him a little for business. The sums which he has remitted to Gosling the last and the present winter fall below the most moderate computation, and I see no reason or account of the deficiency. I wish you would write to him in my name or your own, and make yourself master of that same part of my affairs. Richard Andrews, an honest attorney of Petersfield, is allowed my quitrents for holding my courts, and he might surely, without more trouble or wages, receive and remit the rents of three or four farms.

*Such are the services and revenues of the year; proceed we now, in the style of the budget, to the ways and means of extraordinary supplies.* Payne's valuation of the remaining part of my library has not perfectly answered my expectation. Yet it is approved by my friend, Elmsley, who offers on his own account to change the pounds into Guineas, and as I want the money, and esteem his integrity, I shall signify my acceptance if he will allow me to make another moderate draft from the Catalogue. That transaction (all accounts settled) will put some money in my pocket: but as I understand that kind of business I will not trouble you or myself with any farther details. A circumstance which surprized me in Gosling's account is the last six months from Lady day to Michaelmas last, during which I pay interest for the Mortgage without receiving rent from the Estate: surely that is not just or reasonable. If that half year is properly excepted in the Conveyance, you my omnipotent Attorney may draw it from the tenants, and it will serve at least to discharge Harris's bond. If it is not, I must submit with a sigh to this new deduction of two or three hundred pounds from the poor price of poor Lenborough. But this deficiency must somewhere be supplied: as I now pay interest to the Job for my horses, I can make the man wait a Couple of years till my return. But this cursed account of Newton! He is pathetic, you say, on the score of money advanced; a draft for £200 which I send you inclosed would surely discharge that advance, and you will try to manage him to stay till my labours are finished for the payment of his own. Yet perhaps the clearest and most honourable way would be to borrow £500 of the Goslings on my account and your own bond. *I will not affront your friendship, by observing that you will incur little or no risk on this occasion. Read, consider, act, and write.

PITT A FAVOURITE ABROAD.

It is the privilege of friendship to make our friend a patient hearer, and active Associate in our own affairs; and I have now written five pages on my private affairs, without saying a word either of the public, or of yourself. Of the public I have little to say; I never was a very warm Patriot, and I grow every day a Citizen of the World. The scramble for power and profit at Westminster or St. James's, and the names of Pitt and Fox, become less interesting to me than those of Cæsar and Pompey. You are not a friend of the young Minister, but he is a great favourite on the Continent, as he appears to be still; and you must own that the fairness of his character, his eloquence, his application to business, and even his youth, must prepossess at least the ignorant in his favour. Of the merit or defects of his administration I cannot pretend to speak; but I find, from the complaints of some interested persons, that his restraints on the smuggling of tea have already ruined the East India Companies of Antwerp and Sweden, and that even the Dutch will scarcely find it worth their while to send any ships to China. Your Irish friends appear to be more quiet, at least the Volunteers and national Congress seem to subside. How far that tranquillity must be purchased on our side, by any pernicious sacrifices, you will best decide; and from some hints in your last letters, I am inclined to think that you are less affected than might be supposed with national or local prejudice. Your introduction I have attentively read; the matter, though most important in itself, is out of the line of my studies and habits, and the subordinate beauties of style and arrangement you disclaim. Yet I can say with truth, that I never met with more curious and diligent investigation, more strong sense, more liberal spirit, and more cool and impartial temper in the same number of pages.⁹⁸

By this time you have probably read Necker's book on the Finances. Perhaps for you there is too much French enthusiasm and paint; but in many respects you must have gained a knowledge of his country, and on the whole, you must have been pleased with the picture of a great and benevolent mind. In your attack on Deyverdun for my picture I cannot promise you much success; he seems resolved to maintain his right of possession, and your only chance would be a personal assault. The next summer (how time slips away!) was fixed for your visit to Lausanne. We are prepared at all points to receive you, My lady, and a princess or two, with their train; and if you have a proper contempt for St. Stephen's chappel, you are perfectly free, and at leisure (can you ever be at leisure?) for the summer season. As you are now in a great measure disengaged from my affairs, you may find time to inform me of your proceedings and your projects. At present I do not even know whether you pass the winter at Sheffield-place or in Downing-street. My lady revenges herself of my long silence. Yet I embrace her and the Infants. In a few weeks we expect Miss Bristow and Mrs. Fraser from Nice. Adieu. You have deranged the decline and fall this morning. I have finished my Epistle since dinner, and am now going to a pleasant party and good supper.*

I send you enclosed a promissory note for £500. If you do not borrow the money of Gosling, you may throw it into the fire; if you do, in case of death it will serve as a remembrance. You will find that before and since the receipt of their balance I have drawn this year for £300. The change is most amazingly in my favour, and a banker of credit and substance at Lausanne allows me 4 per Cent. for all the money I leave on his hands.

500.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, July 15th, 1785.

Indeed and indeed, my Dear Madam, I will never go to sleep again; my next letter shall be short and speedy, and I will not always put myself under the shameful necessity of employing the first page in worthless Apologies. On the present occasion I will not excuse myself by saying (what is true enough) that I waited week after week in hopes of hearing from you. As our last letters crossed each other, you might reasonably entertain the same expectation, and thus it is that poor miserable mortals try to provide a decent colour for their own lazyness. You will expect some account of the time of silence, and that account will be short and satisfactory. I am no longer in the illusions of the Honey-moon, when every deformity is concealed, and a smooth deceitful gloss is given to every object.

A YOUNG MAN AT FIFTY.

In the space of two and twenty months, the Climate and Society of Lausanne, my own situation and expence, the character of my companion and of my looser connections of both sexes are perfectly understood. The Climate in these two Winters has shewn itself to all Europe, more strongly perhaps to us, under the most hideous form, severe cold, and a continuance or repetition of snow till the middle of April. In general my health has perfectly sustained the rigour of the season; good spirits, good appetite, good sleep are my habitual state, and though verging towards fifty I still feel myself a young man. I was in hopes that my old Enemy the Gout had given over the attack, but the Villain, with his ally the winter, convinced me of my error, and about the latter end of March I found myself a prisoner in my library and my great chair. I attempted twice to rise, he twice knocked me down again, and kept possession of both my feet and knees longer (I must confess) than he had ever done before. My recovery has been proportionably tedious, and I am hardly yet in possession of my full strength; this admonition calls for some extraordinary care, and without running into sudden extremes, I consult both my reason and my taste by abstaining at night from wine and meat, and contenting myself with a bason of milk.

Such are the drawbacks on the comforts of life, yet I am pleased to think that my gout, though it has adhered somewhat longer than usual, is neither sharp nor frequent, and respectfully confines itself to the lower extremities of the Machine. Of the Country I must not complain, this dry Climate is particularly favourable to gouty constitutions; Dr. Tissot and my own observation inform me that it is rare among the natives, and among my acquaintance I can only name one old Gentleman, who by free living acquired it about the age of three score. My unpleasant and sometimes painful confinement was soothed not only by the mercenary aid of Servants and Physicians (the fee of a visit is about half a crown), but by the assiduous offices of my friends, and instead of the lonesome time an invalid who has not a family must pass amidst the crowds of London, I had the frequent visits of agreable men and women and a party of cards every evening that I chose it.

I do not suppose that real affection, especially to a stranger, is a very plentiful commodity, but here there are much fewer avocations of business or pleasure, and my style of living, my house, my table, &c., make me a man of mark and consequence. With the recovery of my strength, I now return civilities, relax my studies, and visit my acquaintance who are not gone; but so well do I like this habitation, and such is my sedentary disposition, that I have not yet lain from Home, nor gone five miles from Lausanne. You will give me credit when I say, that, though a lover of society, my library is the room to which I am the most attached. I almost hesitate whether I shall tell you that the prospect and furniture are equally agreable, that a reasonable number of my books is arrived from England, and that my whole establishment is formed upon a comfortable yet œconomical plan: in the single articles of house-rent, carriage, servants' wages, clubs, and public places I save between four and five hundred a year. And let me appeal to your reason and spirit whether such a saving be not as real and a much more honourable addition of income, than a pityful, precarious place or pension to be held or lost by the caprice of a Minister or the Revolutions of politics. When I was flattered with a distant hope of a seat at the boards of customs or excise, I was told that I need not work above five days in the week, and that I should sometimes enjoy the respite of Holydays and Vacations. Without any attendance or obligation I have given myself a state of leisure and independence, in which my labour is only employed on litterary pursuits, the objects of my choice and the foundation of my fame.

As every white spot in this life is clouded with a shade of black, I can only lament that this state is so far remote from the best and most faithful of my friends, so faithful and so true that they will enjoy my happiness though they cannot be witnesses or partakers of it. On my side, I think of them much oftener than I write to them, and warmly cherish the hope of an English Journey to them; the time must depend on the completion of my history, and I am sorry to observe that as I advance on my Journey "New Alps on Alps arise;" and I know not when I shall reach the shelter of my Inn.

CHANGES IN ENGLISH POLITICS.

After yourself and Mrs. Porten, Lord and Lady Sheffield are the persons whom I most desire to see. Among my companions of the World are undoubtedly several whom I regard and of whose good wishes I am persuaded; yet those slighter tyes are insensibly relaxed by the distance of time and place, by the interposition of new objects. My political connections have undergone such astonishing changes, a new Parliament, a new Administration, Patriots whom I left Ministers, Ministers whom I left Boys, the whole Map of the Country so totally altered, that I sometimes imagine I have been ten years absent from England. That incessant hurry of Politicks was indeed one of the things which disgusted the most, and there is nothing pleases me so much in this country as to enjoy all the blessings of a Good Government without ever talking or thinking of our Governors. In my domestic Government a great though not unexpected Revolution has happened. Caplen, unable to accustom himself to the language or manners of this country, resigned his employments and returned to England the beginning of last winter. You may easily conceive my loss and apprehension, and you will rejoyce in my good fortune that I was able to fill his place with no unworthy successor; a servant of this country, but who had lived with a Lady at Paris till her death – a man of substance and reputation, and who on the tryal of some months appears to deserve my confidence and good opinion. We are already thoroughly accustomed to each other. Adieu. My Dear Madam, may our correspondence be more frequent, and may I find you on my return in the possession of every blessing.

Most truly yours,

E. G.

501.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, September 5th, 1785.

*Extract from a weekly English paper, September 5th, 1785. – "It is reported, but we hope without foundation, that the celebrated Mr. Gibbon, who had retired to Lausanne in Switzerland to finish his valuable history, lately died in that city."

The hope of the News writer is very handsome and obliging to the historian; yet there are several weighty reasons which would incline me to believe that the intelligence may be true. Primo, It must one day be true; and therefore may very probably be so at present. Secundo, We may always depend on the impartiality, accuracy, and veracity of an English newspaper. Tertio, which is indeed the strongest argument, we are credibly informed that for a long time past the said celebrated historian has not written to any of his friends in England; and as that respectable personnage had always the reputation of a most exact and regular correspondent, it may be fairly concluded from his silence, that he either is, or ought to be, dead. The only objection that I can foresee, is the assurance that Mr. G – himself read the article as he was eating his breakfast, and laughed very heartily at the mistake of his brother historian; but as he might be desirous of concealing that unpleasant event, we shall not insist on his apparent health and spirits, which might be affected by that subtle politician. He affirms, however, not only that he is alive, and was so on the fifth of September, but that his head, his heart, his stomach, are in the most perfect state, and that the Climate of Lausanne has been congenial both to his mind and body. He confesses, indeed, that after the last severe winter, the Gout, his old enemy, from whom he hoped to have escaped, pursued him to his retreat among the mountains of Helvetia, and that the siege was long, though more languid than in his precedent attacks; after some exercise of patience he began to creep, and gradually to walk; and though he can neither run, nor fly, nor dance, he supports himself with grace and firmness on his two legs, and would willingly kick the impertinent Gazetteer; impertinent enough, though more easily to be forgiven than the insolent Courier du Bas Rhin, who about three years ago amused himself and his readers with a fictitious Epistle from Mr. Gibbon to Dr. Robertson.

A CURIOUS QUESTION OF PHILOSOPHY.

Perhaps now you think, Irish Baron, that I shall apologize in humble style for my silence and neglect. But, on the contrary, I do assure you that I am truly provoked at your Lordship's not condescending to be in a passion. I might really have been dead, I might have been sick; if I were neither dead nor sick, I deserved a volley of curses and reproaches for my infernal laziness, and you have defrauded me of my just dues. Had I been silent till Christmas, till Doomsday, you would never have thought it worth your while to abuse me. "Why, then," (let me ask in your name and language, 'you damned beast'), "did you not write before?" That is indeed a very curious question of natural and moral Philosophy. Certainly I am not lazy; elaborate quartos have proved, and will abundantly prove my diligence. I can write; spare my modesty on that subject. I like to converse with my friends by pen or tongue, and as soon as I can set myself a going, I know no moments that run off more pleasantly. I am so well convinced of that truth, and so much ashamed of forcing people that I love to forget me, that I have now resolved to set apart the first hour of each day for the discharge of my obligations; beginning comme de raison, with yourself, and regularly proceeding to Lord Loughborough and the rest. May Heaven give me strength and grace to accomplish this laudable intention! Amen.

Certainly (yet I do not know whether it be so certain) I should write much oftener to you, if we were not linked in business, and if my business had not always been of the unpleasant and mortifying kind. Even now I shove the ugly monster to the end of this epistle, and will confine him to a page by himself, that he may not infect the purer air of our correspondence. Of my situation here I have little new to say, except a very comfortable and singular truth, that my passion for my wife or mistress (Fanny Lausanne) is not palled by satiety and possession of two years. I have seen her in all seasons and in all humours, and though she is not without faults, they are infinitely over-balanced by her good qualities. Her face is not handsome, but her person, and every thing about her, has admirable grace and beauty: she is of a very chearful, sociable temper; without much learning, she is endowed with taste and good sense; and though not rich, the simplicity of her education makes her a very good economist; she is forbid by her parents to wear any expensive finery; and though her limbs are not much calculated for walking, she has not yet asked me to keep her a Coach.

Last spring (not to wear the metaphor to rags) I saw Lausanne in a new light, during my long fit of the Gout; and must boldly declare, that either in health or sickness I find it far more comfortable than your huge metropolis. In London my confinement was sad and solitary; the many forgot my existence when they saw me no longer at Brookes's; and the few, who sometimes cast a thought or an eye on their friend, were detained by business or pleasure, the distance of the way, or the hours of the house of commons; and I was proud and happy if I could prevail on Elmsley to enliven the dullness of the Evening. Here the objects are nearer, and more distinct, and I myself am an object of much larger magnitude. People are not kinder, but they are more idle, and it must be confessed that, of all nations on the globe, the English are the least attentive to the old and infirm; I do not mean in acts of charity, but in the offices of civil life. During three months I have had round my chair a succession of agreeable men and women, who came with a smile, and vanished at a nod; and as soon as it was agreeable I had a constant party at cards, which was sometimes dismissed to their respective homes, and sometimes detained by Deyverdun to supper, without the least trouble or inconvenience to myself. In a word, my plan has most compleatly answered; and I solemnly protest, after two years' tryal, that I have never in a single moment repented of my transmigration.

HIS COUNTRYMEN AT LAUSANNE.

The only disagreeable circumstance is the encrease of a race of animals with which this country has been long infested, and who are said to come from an island in the Northern Ocean. I am told, but it seems incredible, that upwards of 40,000 English, masters and servants, are now absent on the continent; and I am sure we have our full proportion, both in town and country, from the month of June to that of October. The occupations of the Closet, indifferent health, want of horses, in some measure plead my excuse; yet I do too much to please myself, and probably too little to satisfy my Countrymen. What is still more unlucky is, that a part of the Colony of this present year are really good company, people one knows, &c.; the Astons,⁹⁹ Hales, Hampdens, Trevors,¹⁰⁰ Lady Clarges¹⁰¹ and Miss Carter (her Sappho), Lord Northington,¹⁰² &c. I have seen Trevor several times, who talks of you, and seems to be a more exact correspondent than myself. His wife is much improved by her diplomatic life, and shines in every company, as a woman of fashion and elegance. But those who have repaid me for the rest were Lord and Lady Spencer.¹⁰³ I saw them almost every day, at my house or their own, during their stay of a month; for they were hastening to Italy, that they might return to London next February. He is a valuable man, and where he is familiar, a pleasant Companion; she a charming woman, who, with sense and spirit, has the simplicity and playfulness of a child. You are not ignorant of her talents, of which she has left me an agreable specimen, a drawing of the Historic muse, sitting in a thoughtful posture to compose.

So much of self and Co. Let us now talk a little of your house and your two Countries. Does my Lady ever join in the abuse which I have merited from you? Is she satisfied with her own behaviour, her unpardonable silence, to one of the prettiest, most obliging, most entertaining, most &c. Epistles that ever was penned since the Epistles of Paul of Tarsus? Will she not mew one word of reply? I want some account of her spirits, health, amusements, of the womanly accomplishments of Maria, and the opening graces of Louisa: of yourself I wish to have some of those details which she is much more likely to transmit. Are you patient in your exclusion from the House? Are you satisfied with legislating with your pen? Do you pass the whole winter in town? Have you resumed the pursuits of farming, &c.? What new connexions, public or private, have you formed? A tour to the Continent would be the best medicine for the shattered nerves of a soldier and politician. By this expression you will perceive that your letter to Deyverdun is received; it landed last post, after I had already written the two first pages of this composition. On the whole, my friend was pleased and flattered: but instead of surrendering or capitulating, he seems to be making preparations for an obstinate defence. He already talks of the right of possession, of the duties of a good Citizen, of a writ ne exeat Regno, and of a vote of the two hundred, that whosoever shall, directly or indirectly, &c., is an Enemy to his Country. Between you be the strife, while I sit with my scales in my hand, like Jupiter on Mount Ida.

SENSE OR NONSENSE OF IRISH PARLIAMENTS.

I begin to view with the same indifference the combat of Achilles Pitt and Hector Fox; for such as it should now seem, must be the comparison of the two Warriors.* Lord Northington, who is firm in his party, assures me that the popularity of the young Minister, and even the opinion of his abilities, have considerably diminished; but he confesses that such, or much greater, diminution will not weaken his influence in the Parliament, and must tend to promote his favour and confidence in a certain place. *At this distance I am much less angry with bills, taxes, and propositions, than I am pleased with Pitt for making a friend and a deserving man happy, for releasing poor Batt from the shackles of the law, and for enhancing the gift of a secure and honourable competency, by the handsome unsolicited manner in which it was conferred. This I understand to be the case, from the unsuspicious evidence of Lord N. and Chief Baron Skinner; and if I can find time (resolution) I will send him a hearty congratulation; if I fail, you may at least communicate my intentions. Of Ireland I know nothing, and while I am Writing the decline of a great Empire, I have not leisure to attend to the affairs of a remote and petty province. I see that your friend Foster¹⁰⁴ has been hooted by the Mob, and unanimously chosen Speaker by the House of Commons. How could Pitt expose himself to the disgrace of withdrawing his propositions after a public attempt?¹⁰⁵ Have ministers no way of computing beforehand the sense or nonsense of an Irish parliament? I am quite in the dark; your pamphlet, or book, would probably have opened my eyes; but whatever may have been the reason, I give you my word of honour that I have never seen nor heard of it. Here we are much more engaged with Continental politics. In general we hate the emperor,¹⁰⁶ as the enemy of peace, without daring to make War. The old Lyon of Prussia¹⁰⁷ acts a much more glorious part, as the Champion of public tranquillity, and the independence of the German states.

And now for the bitter and nauseous pill of pecuniary business, upon which I shall be as concise as possible in the two articles of my discourse, land and money.* And concise indeed I may be according to the slender proportion of either that is now left. You sometimes accuse me of not reading or remembering the most important points of your despatches: may I not equally complain that you pass in silence all my enquiries and requests on the subject of Buriton? In the space of two years I have never received a line of intelligence from Hugonin concerning the state of that last and dearest possession. And as far as I can judge from Gosling's confused account, which records only dates and names, a portion, not a very small one, of the rent remains unpaid, or has been sunk in unknown charges and expences. Let me therefore repeat perhaps more clearly what I have already desired.

1. That you would correspond with Hugonin, and obtain from him a correct mercantile account of debtor and creditor of rents and payments for the aforesaid two years.

2. That if there remains any arrears, you would propose and enforce the most vigorous measures for my prompt and entire satisfaction.

3. That as there must be deducted from this year's rents a considerable fine to Magdalen College for Horn, Hugonin at your instigation would cast about to see whether he cannot perceive any extraordinary means of supply in the timber way. A dozen years have now elapsed since the first Cut of the Hanger. May not those underwoods be again ripe for the Axe? You know I consider only present profit, and disregard all future improvements and rural beauty. A beast, you will say. Alas, why do hard circumstances force me to be one?

4. That you would manage, if it can be done without offence or expence, the substitution of Richard Andrews, in the place of Hugonin, a clear-sighted Agent for a blind Gentleman. I fear nothing more is to be expected from Lenborough, but as you seem quiet, I entertain a faint hope that Harris's bond has been discharged from the rent or purchase money. You have done no more than I expected in assuring me that the £500 shall be ready at Goslings', but I should be sorry to distress you, or to lay your generous spirit under any obligations to a purse-proud Cit. If they will readily take your bond, and allow me credit for the sum before the 1st of December for January next, it will be the readiest and most private way. Otherwise I can have recourse to another expedient, of desiring the Darrels either to sell an equivalent part of my short annuity, or, if the funds are too low, to advance me the desideratum on a security which is in their own hands. When I am possessed of the money in one way or another I will take a view of my former credit with Gosling (a small credit, I trow) of this additional supply of my debts, expences, and resources, and I hope I shall be able to discharge at least the remainder of Newton's bill. But I must not impoverish myself too, and I have some thoughts of keeping the rest of my library (if not troublesome to Downing Street) till my return to England.

DELAYS IN HIS HISTORY.

*It is impossible to hate more than I do this odious necessity of owing, borrowing, anticipating; and I look forwards with impatience to the happy period when the supplies will always be raised within the year, with a decent and useful surplus in the treasury. Had it not been for the cursed dissolution of Parliament, such would already have been the case. I now trust to the conclusion of my History, and it will hasten and secure the principal comforts of my life. You will believe I am not lazy; yet I fear the term is somewhat more distant than I thought. My long gout lost me three months in the spring; in every great work unforeseen [obstacles], and difficulties, and delays will arise; and I should be rather sorry than surprized if next autumn was postponed to the ensuing spring. If My Lady (a good creature) should write to Mrs. Porten, she may convey news of my life and health, without saying anything of this possible delay. Adieu. I embrace, &c.*

502.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, January 17th, 1786.

*Hear all Ye nations! An Epistle from Sheffield-place, received the 17th of January, is answered the same day; and to say the truth, this method, which is the best, is at the same time the most easy and pleasant. Yet I do not allow that in the last past silence and delay you have any more right to damn than myself. Our letters crossed each other, our claims were equal, and if both had been stiffly maintained, our mutual silence must have continued till the day of judgment. The balance was doubtless in my favour, if you recollect the length, the fullness, the variety of pleasant and instructive matter of my last dispatch. Even at present, of myself, my occupations, my designs, I have little or nothing to add; and can only speak dryly and briefly to very dry and disagreeable business demands and want of money. But we shall both agree that the true criminal is My Lady; and though I do suppose that a letter is on the road, which will make some amends, her obstinate, contumacious, dilatory silence, after so many months or years since my valuable letter, is worthy not of a Cat but of a Royal Tygress.

Notwithstanding your gloomy politicians, I do love the funds; and were the next war to reduce them to half, the remainder would be a better and pleasanter property, than a similar value in your dirty acres. We are now in the height of our winter amusements; balls, great suppers, comedies, &c.; and, except St. Stephen's, I certainly lead a more gay and dissipated life here, among the Alps, (by the bye, a most extraordinary mild winter,) than in the midst of London. Yet my mornings, and sometimes an afternoon, are diligently employed, my work advances, but much remains, indeed much more than I imagined; but a great book, like a great house, was never yet finished at the given time. When I talk of the spring of '87, I suppose all my time well bestowed; and what do you think of a fit of the gout, that may disqualify me for two or three months? You may growl, but if you calmly reflect on my pecuniary and sentimental state, you will believe that I most earnestly desire to compleat my labour, and visit England. Adieu.*

With regard to the three old Ladies, I behave like a fool to one, and like a beast (though they too are silent) to the other two. But all shall be speedily rectified. The portrait seems to be firmly rooted here. You know you have no right, and Deyverdun seems not disposed to shew you any indulgence.

Yours,

E. G.

I shall probably hear from you and the Goslings before the end of next month, and you may depend on an immediate answer. You will probably have corresponded with Hugonin. It is surely hard to be obliged to a man, who in two years and four months, has not condescended to send me a line of information or account. If you talk of credit, you must allow that it is unpleasant to desire the Darrels to sell a part of my short Annuity.

503.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, May 3rd, 1786.

Dear Madam,

Shall I begin by a complaint or an apology? Without much injustice I might complain of your long silence, which between other correspondents than ourselves might seem to indicate some degree of forgetfulness, the too frequent consequences of absence and distance. Between us, however, it indicates no such thing, and in the confidence of our mutual regard our silence is more eloquent than the loquacity of others. I might even add that the constant expectation on every post-day of a letter from Bath, has suspended my not very vigorous efforts to renew the correspondence. Some truth there undoubtedly may be in this assertion, but you will much more readily believe, that in my strange compound of industry and lazyness, I have very often formed the design, and as often found some excellent reason of delay till the very next post, when I would most undoubtedly write to the best and dearest of my friends. Perhaps it would not be a bad method on both sides, a note of four lines, a certificate of health and remembrance, without computing of debtor or creditor, or any formal attempt to produce a regular Epistle. But as even this project may fail, I must seriously beg that you would never allow yourself to be made uneasy by any flying reports, or newspaper. Be assured that if any untoward accident should stop my breath, or disable my hand, my friend M. Deyverdun will send the early and authentic Gazette to Sheffield place, from whence it will be imparted with proper speed to my other friends in England. At the same time, I can affirm with truth, that my sole reason for this advertisement is derived from some foolish Articles, that were very familiar last year to the home and foreign papers. Since I have known you or myself I never had more pleasing inducements to cherish life, or less apprehension of too speedily quitting it.

IMPROVEMENT IN HIS HEALTH.

My health is certainly better than when I left England, and this improvement I partly ascribe to the climate, and partly to the temperance of my diet. I had long ago shaken off the bad habits of the Hampshire Militia, but a London life, in the best Company, is a life of fullness and intemperance; which cannot be separated from the lateness and irregularity of our hours, the variety of wines and dishes, and the English practise of setting after dinner, with the bottle and glasses on the table. Since my last fit of the Gout, I avoid the temptation without losing the pleasure of suppers, by confining myself to a mess of boiled milk, and in companies of twenty or thirty men and women, my frugal bason has often been placed on the tables: my dinners are moderate, and breakfast still continues to be my favourite repast. This regimen appears to have succeeded; I have passed the winter without hearing of the enemy, and last month, after a short and slight visit or rather menace, he politely retired, and has left me free to enjoy the beauties of an incomparable spring, which rapidly treads on the heels of a very mild winter.

The glories of the landskip I have always enjoyed; but Deyverdun has almost given me a taste for minute observation, and I can dwell with pleasure on the shape and colour of the leaves, the various hues of the blossoms, and successive progress of vegetation. These pleasures are not without cares; and there is a white Acacia just under the windows of my library, which in my opinion was too closely pruned last Autumn, and whose recovery is the daily subject of anxiety and conversation! My romantic wishes led sometimes to an idea which was impracticable in England, the possession of an house and garden, which should unite the society of town with the beauties and freedom of the country. That idea is now realized in a degree of perfection to which I never aspired, and if I could convey in words a just picture of my library, apartments, terrace, wilderness, vineyard, with the prospect of land and water, terminated by the mountains; and this position at the gate of a populous and lively town where I have some friends and many acquaintance, you would envy or rather applaud the singular propriety of my choice.

During the first year of my residence I often compared the tumult of London and the house of Commons, with the studious social tranquillity of Lausanne, and felt with complacency that I had chosen the better part. Those busy scenes are now far from me, like the remembrance of a noisy and troublesome dream, and though I possess from nature or reflection a happiness of temper that can be easy almost in any situation, I am at a loss to conceive how I could support so long a way of life so ill-suited to my mind and circumstances. What I particularly disliked was the alternative of a batchelor, large accidental dinners abroad, or my solitary chicken at home. Here I can keep a regular table and establishment equal to the best families of the place; we seldom dine alone, and I have often agreable suppers of men and women. The habits of female conversation have sometimes tempted me to acquire the piece of furniture, a wife, and could I unite in a single Woman, the virtues and accomplishments of half a dozen of my acquaintance, I would instantly pay my addresses to the Constellation.

A MINISTRY OF RESPECTABLE BOYS.

In the mean while I must content myself with my other wife, the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, which I prosecute with pleasant and constant industry. I had some hopes of compleating it this year, but let no man who builds a house, or writes a book, presume to say when he will have finished. When he imagines that he is drawing near to his journey's end, Alps rise on Alps, and he continually finds something to add, and something to correct. Yet I now think myself sure of bringing over two or three Volumes in quarto (down to the taking of Constantinople by the Turks) in the course of next summer, I mean the summer of eighty-seven, and as the business of impression will require many months, I may long enjoy the company of my English friends. Of private friends I hope to find many in the vulgar, and some in the pure and genuine sense of the word, but I shall be totally bewildered. About three months after my departure, an Earthquake threw down all the men and systems of which I had any knowledge, and the country seems to be governed by a set of most respectable boys, who were at school half a dozen years ago. I see in the papers that young Eliot is become the brother and privy-Counsellor of Pitt, and that the independent father has no objection either to titles or places.

And now, My Dear Madam, after so much about myself, let me conclude with a word of enquiry on a subject very near to my heart, your health and happiness. The only apprehension from your silence relates to want of activity and spirits, and from those fears I hope you can honestly deliver me. Remember me with kindness to Mrs. Gould, and Mrs. Holroyd, and let me hear if any thing good has befallen them, more especially the former, whose situation was more susceptible of change: when I mention her I include her family. Is Mr. Melmoth still alive? I saw young Coxe last year, with a very decent and reasonable Bear, whom he leads from North to South. Adieu, Dear Madam, my paper fails.

Most truly yours,

E. G.

504.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, May 10th, 1786.

THE DEATH OF "AUNT KITTY."

*By the difference, I suppose, of the posts of France and Germany, Sir Stanier's letter, though first written, is still on the road, and yours, which I received yesterday morning, brought me the first account of poor Mrs. P[orten]'s departure. There are few events that could affect me more deeply, and I have been ever since in a state of mind more deserving of your pity than of your reproaches. I certainly am not ignorant that we have nothing better to wish for ourselves than the fate of that best-humoured woman, as you very justly style her. A good understanding, and an excellent heart, with health, spirits, and a competency, to live in the midst of her friends till the age of fourscore, and then to shut her eyes without pain or remorse. Death can have deprived her only of some years of weakness, perhaps of misery; and for myself it is surely less painful to lose her at present, than to find her in my visit to England next year sinking under the weight of age and infirmities, and perhaps forgetfull of herself and of the persons once the dearest to her.

All this is perfectly true: but all these reflections will not dispell a thousand sad and tender remembrances that rush upon my mind. To her care I am indebted in earliest infancy for the preservation of my life and health. I was a puny child, neglected by my Mother, starved by my nurse, and of whose being very little care or expectation was entertained; without her maternal vigilance I should either have been in my grave, or imperfectly lived a crooked ricketty monster, a burthen to myself and others. To her instructions I owe the first rudiments of knowledge, the first exercise of reason, and a taste for books, which is still the pleasure and glory of my life; and though she taught me neither language nor science, she was certainly the most useful preceptor I have ever had. As I grew up, an intercourse of thirty years endeared her to me, as the faithful friend and the agreeable companion. You have seen with what freedom and confidence we lived together, and have often admired her character and conversation, which could alike please the young and the old. All this is now lost, finally, irrecoverably lost! I will agree with My Lady, that the immortality of the soul is on some occasions a very comfortable doctrine. A thousand thanks to her for her constant kind attention to that poor woman who is no more.

I wish I had as much to applaud and as little to reproach in my own behaviour towards Mrs. P. since I left England; and when I reflect that my letters would have soothed and comforted her decline, I feel more deeply than I can express, the real neglect, and seeming indifference, of my silence. To delay a letter from the Wednesday to the Saturday, and then from the Saturday to the Wednesday, appears a very slight offence; yet in the repetition of such delay, weeks, months, and years will elapse, till the omission may become irretrievable, and the consequence mischievous or fatal. After a long lethargy, I had rouzed myself last week, and wrote to the three old Ladies; my letter for Newman Street went away last post, Saturday night, and yours did not arrive till Monday morning. Sir Stanier will probably open it, and read the true picture of my sentiments for a friend who, when I wrote, was already extinct. There is something sad and awful in the thought, yet on the whole, I am sorry that even this tardy Epistle preceded my knowledge of her death. But it did not precede (you will observe) the information of her dangerous and declining state, which I conveyed in my last letter, and her anxious concern that she should never see or hear from you again.

This idea, and the hard thoughts which you must entertain of me, press so hard on my mind, that I must frankly acknowledge a strange and inexcusable supineness, on which I desire you would make no comment, and which in some measure may account for my delays in corresponding with you. The unpleasant nature of business, and the apprehension of finding something disagreeable, tempted me to postpone from day to day, not only the answering, but even the opening, your penultimate epistle; and when I received your last, yesterday morning, the seal of the former was still unbroken. Oblige me so far as to make no reflections; my own may be of service to me hereafter. Thus far (except the last sentence) I have run on with a sort of melancholy pleasure, and find my heart much relieved by unfolding it to a friend. And the subject so strongly holds me, so much disqualifies me for other discourse, either serious or pleasant, that here I would willingly stop, and reserve all miscellaneous matter for a second volunteer Epistle. But we both know how frail are promises, how dangerous are delays, and there are some pecuniary objects on which I think it necessary to give you an immediate, though now tardy, explanation.

I do not return you any formal thanks for* securing me the £500 at Gosling's. We are sufficiently acquainted with each other's sentiments, nor can I be surprized that you should do for me what in a similar situation you would have found and accepted without hesitation on my part. But I must remove the appearance of duplicity which might not give you pleasure, that I should complain of urgent poverty, and doubt whether my draught would be paid, while I had £400 in Gosling's hands. A part of this wealth is only ideal, as I had reckoned on Mrs. Gibbon's Christmas half-year (£150), which was really drawn for a few days afterwards. For the rest of the difference, I can only say that I reckoned from memory (having mislaid their last year's account), that my fears preponderated, and that I am glad to find myself for once, a richer man than I expected. To show you that I am in earnest, as I shall not want to draw for some months, I am very willing that you should divert a part of your supply to the most pressing occasions. Of that nature is certainly the Buckinghamshire bond to the man who married Harris's daughter, and I beg you would pay both principal and interest immediately. The Jobbman for horses should, I think, be the next, and when these two are satisfied, upwards of £200 must remain. When I consider the large amount and easy earning of Newton's bill, he surely may wait for my return. If you are too much plagued with his importunities, silence him with another sop of £100. Whatever you do, you will send me the account, that I may know the exact quantity of my provision. You know my attachment to my little deposit in the funds, but if I should be pressed before my return by any further expences or demands, I will transact the business with the Darrels either by sale or loan. Apropos of Newton, were it perfectly convenient, I would not clear his whole bill, till I had extracted from his hands all the writings of my Hampshire Estate. I wish you would seriously undertake that extraction, the importance of which you feel more strongly than myself.

I have really an hundred things to say of myself, of you and Co., of your works, of mine, of my books in Downing Street, of Lausanne, of Politicks, &c. &c. After this, some Epistolary debts must and SHALL be paid; and to proceed with order, I have fixed this day fortnight (May 25th) for the date and dispatch of your second Epistle. Give me credit once more. Pray, does My Lady think herself absolved from all obligation of writing to me? To her, at least, I am not in arrear. Adieu.

505.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, July 22nd, 1786.

BOOKS LONGER IN MAKING THAN PUDDINGS.

This general order will, I presume, remove all the unforeseen difficulties, which I should have thought must have given way to your name, and the knowledge of our connection. Use the power according to your own discretion, even to the full amount of your £500 which I have not yet violated, but remember not to satisfy Newton till he has disgorged my writings, of which, as you will easily believe, I have no list. *I suppose you have sworn (I have sworn myself) at my long silence and delay. The plena Epistola I have postponed from post to post, and as I see no end of waiting (though I think it will not run beyond the end of the month), it seemed most prudent to dispatch this needful missive. I am well, happy, and diligent; but your kind hint of the London house is perfectly superfluous; as instead of the spring, we must already read the summer of next year.* Do not be childish or passionate; trust me, I wish to appear in England; but it must be with my book in my hand; and a book takes more time in making than a pudding. Adieu. Will my Lady never write?

E. G.

*Since I have another page, and some leisure moments, we may as well employ it in friendly converse; the more so, as the great letter to which I alluded is most wonderfully precarious and uncertain; the more so likewise, as our correspondence for some time past has been of an abrupt, dark and disagreeable cast. Let us first talk of Sheffield's works; they are of two sorts: primo, two nymphs, whom I much desire to see; the stately Maria and the gentle Louisa. I perfectly represent them both in the eye of fancy; each of them accomplished according to her age and character, yet totally different in their external and internal forms. Secundo, three pamphlets; pamphlets I cry you mercy; three weighty treatises, almost as useful as an enquiry into the state of the primitive Church; and here let me justify, if I have not before, my silence on a subject which we authors do not easily forgive. The first, whose first editions had seen the light before I left England, followed me here in a more compleat condition; and that Treatise on the American Trade has been read, judged, approved, and reported. The second, on Ireland, I have seen by accident, the copy you had sent Mr. Trevor, who passed last summer (85) in this [place]. The third, and in my present situation the most interesting, on the French Commerce,¹⁰⁸ I have not yet seen by any means whatsoever, and you who know what orders you have given to Elmsley or others, will best discern on whom should be laid the fault and the blame.* By the bye, Mrs. Trevor is now here without her husband – so much the better – and I am just going to see her, about a mile out of town: she is judged elegant and amiable; but in health and figure most lamentably declined since last year. *But to return to your books, all that I have seen must do you honour, and might do the public service; you are above the trifling decorations of style and order, but your sense is strong, your views impartial, and your industry laudable. I find that your American tract is just translated into German.

HIS CONTEMPLATED VISIT TO ENGLAND.

Do you still correspond with* Eden?¹⁰⁹ *If he could establish a beneficial intercourse between the two first nations in the World, I could excuse him some little political tergiversation. At some distance of time and place, those domestic squabbles lose much of their importance; and though I should not forgive him any breach of private friendship or confidence, I cannot much blame him if he chose rather to serve his family and his country, than to persevere in a hopeless and, as I suspect, an unpopular opposition. You have never told me clearly and correctly how you support your inactive retreat from the house of Commons; whether you have resumed your long forgotten taste for rural and domestic pleasures, and whether you have never cast a look towards Coventry, or some other borough equally pure and respectable. In the short space that is left I will only repeat more distinctly, that in the present contemplation of my work, June or July of next year is the earliest term at which I can hope to see England*; and if I have a fit of the Gout – I have, indeed, been free from the monster this last twelvemonth; but he is most arbitrary and capricious. Of my own situation let me say with truth that it is tranquil, easy, and well adapted to my character. All enthusiasm is now at an end; I see things in their true light, and I applaud the judgment and choice of my retirement.

You see why I have left a blank in the first page; and when I begun I had no design of going beyond it; and now, unless I have some extraordinary fit of diligence and zeal, shall probably wait till the return of your Epistle. A word before we part, about the least unpleasant of my business; my library in Downing-street. Excuse the accidental derangement; I shall send for no more books, and only beg you to give them shelter in your stinking parlour till my arrival. Two or three mornings will suffice for a personal review, and the subsequent steps of sale or travel will most properly be executed under my own eye. Ours and the foreign papers announce the distress and reformation of the P. of W.¹¹⁰ Are you one of the Noblemen who offer him their houses? As papa is tenacious and poor, I suppose Fox next session will celebrate his economy, and Parliament will pay his debts. Once more adieu.

506.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, Jan. 20th, 1787.

*After some sallies of wrath, you seem at length to have subsided in sullen silence, and I must confess not totally without reason. Yet if your mind be still open to truth, you will confess that I am not quite so black as I appear. 1. Your Lordship has shewn much less activity and eloquence than formerly, and your last letter was an answer to mine, which I had expected some time with impatience. Bad examples are dangerous to young People. 2. Formerly I have neglected answering your Epistles on essential, though unpleasant, business; and the Res-publica or -privata may have suffered by my neglect.* At present, when you have paid away the £500 of your own creation in Gosling's hands, satisfied Newton and Job (I do not mean the most patient of men), and withdrawn my writings from the Attorney's paw, I do not recollect any matter of interest remaining in your hands to exercise your industry, vex my temper, or sully your dispatches. That sum of £500 you will find entire and intact in Fleet Street; you may exhaust, but in spite of my general credit I hope you will not exceed it.

*Supposing, therefore, we had no transactions, why should I write so often? To exchange sentimental compliments, or to relate the various and important transactions of the Republic of Lausanne? As long as I do not inform you of my death, you have good grounds to believe me alive and well: you have a general, and will soon have a more particular, idea of my system and arrangement here. One day glides away after another in tranquil uniformity. Every object must have sides and moments less luminous than others; but, upon the whole, the life and the place which I have chosen are most happily adapted to my character and circumstances; and I can now repeat, at the end of three years, what I soon and sincerely affirmed, that never, in a single instant, have I repented of my scheme of retirement to Lausanne; a retirement which was judged by my best and wisest friend a project little short of insanity. The place, the people, the climate, have answered or exceeded my warmest expectations: and I truly rejoice in my approaching visit to England. Mr. Pitt, were he your friend and mine, would not find it an easy task to prevent my return.

BUILDING A GREAT BOOK.

3. And now let me add a third reason, which often diverted me from writing; namely, my impatience to see you this next summer. I am building a great book, which, besides the three stories already exposed to the public eye, will have three stories more before we reach the roof and battelments. You too have built or altered a great Gothic Castle with Baronial battlements; did you finish it within the time you intended? As that time drew near, did you not find a thousand nameless and unexpected works that must be performed; each of them calling for a portion of time and labour? and had you not despised, nobly despised, the minute diligence of finishing, fitting up, and furnishing the apartments, you would have discovered a new train of indispensable business. Such, at least, has been my case. A long while ago, when I contemplated the distant prospect of my work, I gave you and myself some hopes of landing in England last Autumn; but, alas! when autumn grew near, hills began to rise on hills, Alps on Alps, and I found my journey far more tedious and toilsome than I had imagined.

When I look back on the length of the undertaking, and the variety of materials, I cannot accuse, or suffer myself to be accused, of idleness; yet it appeared that unless I doubled my diligence, another year, and perhaps more, would elapse before I could embark with my complete manuscript. Under these circumstances I took, and am still executing, a bold and meritorious resolution. The mornings in winter, and in a country of early dinners, are very concise; to them, my usual period of study, I now frequently add the evenings, renounce cards and society, refuse the most agreeable evenings, or perhaps make my appearance at a late supper. By this extraordinary industry, which I never practised before, and to which I hope never to be again reduced, I see the last part of my history growing apace under my hands; all my materials are collected and arranged; I can exactly compute, by the square foot, or the square page, all that remains to be done; and after concluding text and notes, after a general review of my time and my ground, I can now decisively ascertain the final period of the decline and fall, and can boldly promise that I will dine with you at Sheffield-place in the month of August, or perhaps of July, in the present year; within less than a twelfthmonth of the term which I had loosely and originally fixed; and perhaps it would not be easy to find a work of that size and importance in which the workman has so tolerably kept his word with himself and the public. But in this situation, oppressed with this particular object, and stealing every hour from my amusement, to the fatigue of the pen and the eyes, you will conceive, or you might conceive, how little stomach I have for the Epistolary style; and that instead of idle, though friendly, correspondence, I think it far more agreeable to employ my time in the effectual measures that may hasten and exhilarate our personal interview.

About a month ago I had a voluntary, and not unpleasing Epistle from Cadell; he informs me that he is going to print a new octavo edition, the former being exhausted, and that the public expect with impatience the conclusion of that excellent work, whose reputation and sale increases every day, &c. I answered him by the return of the post, to inform him of the period and extent of my labours, and to express a reasonable hope that he would set the same value on the three last as he had done on the three former Volumes. Should we conclude in this easy manner a transaction so honourable to the author and bookseller, my way is clear and open before; in pecuniary matters I think I am assured for the rest of my life of never troubling my friends, or being troubled myself; a state to which I aspire, and which I indeed deserve, if not by my management, at least by moderation.

A CITIZEN OF THE WORLD.

In your last, you talk more of the French treaty¹¹¹ than of yourself and your wife and family; a true English Quid nunc! For my part, in this remote, inland, neutral country, you will suppose, that after a slight glance on the papers, I have neither had the means or the inclination to think very deeply about it. As a Citizen of the World, a character to which I am every day rising or sinking, I must rejoyce in every agreement that diminishes the separation between neighbouring countries, which softens their prejudices, unites their interest and industry, and renders their future hostilities less frequent and less implacable. With regard to the present treaty, I hope both nations are gainers; since otherwise it cannot be lasting; and such double mutual gain is surely possible in fair trade, though it could not easily happen in the mischievous amusements of war and gaming.* I am much pleased with our great patriots who write to you for sense as schoolboys on an exercise day. *What a delightful hand have these great statesmen made of it since my departure! without power, and, as far as I can see, without hope. When we meet I shall advise you to digest all your political and commercial knowledge, (England, Ireland, France, America,) and, with some attention to style and order, to make the whole a Classic book, which may preserve your name and benefit your Country. I know not whether you have seen Sir Henry Clinton since his return: he passed a day with me, and seemed pleased with my reception and place. We talked over you and the American War. Mrs. Trevor passes the winter here: she is pleasing and fashionable. I embrace the silent My Lady and the two honourable Misses, whom I sigh to behold and admire. Adieu. Ever yours.*

I have three or four things to add of meaner importance.

1. My Journey to England costs me a good servant: he has a farm, a shop, and a wife: absence from these frightens him, and he takes this opportunity of retiring from the domestic state.

2. *Though I can part with land, you find I cannot part with books: the remainder of my library has so long embarrassed your stinking room that it may now await my presence and final judgment.*

3. All my coloured handkerchiefs are worn out: I wish My Lady would get me a couple of dozen of the best sort from Ireland: an elegant Poplin would likewise be acceptable for a fur Coat. *Has the said My Lady read a novel intitled Caroline de Lichfield, of our home manufacture? I may say of ours, since Deyverdun and myself were the judges and patrons of the Manuscripts. The author, who is since married a second time, (Madame de Crousaz, now Montolieu), is a charming woman.¹¹² I was in some danger.* Once more, bar a long fit of the Gout, and the historian will land at Dover before the end of July. Adieu.

507.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, June 2nd, 1787.

INTENTION TO ARRIVE IN LONDON.

*I begin to discover that if I wait till I could atchieve a just and satisfactory Epistle, equally pleasant and instructive, you would have a poor chance of hearing from me. I will therefore content myself with a simple answer to a question, which (I love to believe) you repeat with some impatience: "When may we expect you in England?" My great building is, as it were, compleated, and some slight ornaments, the painting and glazing of the last finished rooms, may be dispatched without inconvenience in the autumnal residence of Sheffield-place. It is therefore my sincere and peremptory intention to depart from Lausanne about the 20th of July, and to find myself (me trouver) in London on or before the glorious first of August. I know of nothing that can prevent it but a fit of the gout, the capricious tyrant, who obeys no laws either of time or place; and so unfortunately are we circumstanced, that such a fit, if it came late and lasted long, would effectually disable me from coming till next spring; since thereby I should lose the season, the monsoon, for the impression of three quarto volumes, which will require nine months (a regular parturition), and cannot advantageously appear before the beginning or middle of May.

At the same time do not be apprehensive that I mean to play you a dog's trick. From a thousand motives it is my wish to come over this year; the desire of seeing you, and the silent sullen My lady; the family arrangements, discharge of servants, which I have already made; the strong wish of settling my three youngest children in a manner honourable to them and beneficial to their parent. Much miscellaneous matter rises to my pen, but I will not be tempted to turn the leaf. Expect me therefore at Sheffield-place, with strong probability, about the 15th of August.* You say nothing of your final settlement with Newton: if the Attorney refuses to give parchments for money he must have some bad intention. Adieu. Yours.

508.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, July 21st, 1787.

Dear Madam,

After a long silence which I will no longer attempt to excuse, I have the pleasure of informing you that when you receive this letter I shall be on my way to England, and that I hope to reach London on or before the 9th of next month. I need not say that by the first post you shall be apprized of my arrival. I bring over the remainder of my history, and only regret that instead of running down to Bath, the necessary cares of an author will detain me in the neighbourhood of London and the press. But my impatience will be alleviated by the convenience of a near and frequent intercourse, and I sincerely hope that you can return the assurance which I give, that I have been long happy and am now well.

I am, My Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

509.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, July 21st, 1787.

*The 20th of July is past, and I am still at Lausanne; but the march of heavy bodies, such as armies and historians, can seldom be foreseen or fixed to a precise day. Some particular reasons have engaged me to allow myself another week; and the day of my departure is now (I believe) determined for Sunday the 29th instant. You know the road and the distance. I am no rapid English traveller, and my servant is not accustomed to ride post. I was never fond of deeds of darkness, and if the weather be hot, we must repose in the middle of the day. Yet the roads are in general good: between Sun and Sun the interval is long; and, barring the accidents of winds and waves, I think it possible to reach London in ten or twelve days; viz. on or before the ninth of August. With your active spirit, you will scarce understand how I can look on this easy journey with some degree of reluctance and apprehension; but after a tranquil, sedentary life of four years, (having lain but a single night out of my own bed,) I see mountains and monsters in the way; and so happy do I feel myself at home, that nothing but the strongest calls of friendship and interest could drag me from hence.*

HIS ARRIVAL IN LONDON.

You ingeniously propose that I should turn off at Sittenbourn, and seem to wonder what business I can find, or make, for an immediate residence in the Capital. Have you totally forgot that I bring over three quarto volumes for the press? and are you ignorant that not a moment must be lost, if we are desirous of appearing at a proper season? I must ratify and sign my agreement with Cadell and Strahan, deliver the first part of the manuscript, settle some preliminaries with the printer and corrector, revise the first sheets, procure some necessary books, consult others, and set the machine in motion before I can secede to Sheffield-place with an easy mind, and for a reasonable term. Of this be assured, that I shall not be less impatient than yourself, and that, of human two-legged animals, yourself and yours are the first, though not the sole, whom I shall wish to see in England.

For myself, I do not regret the occupancy of Downing Street;¹¹³ in my first visit to London, a lodging or hotel in the Adelphi will be more convenient; but I have some anxiety about my books, and must try whether I can approach those holy relicks, without offending the delicacy of an amiable Dutchess.

Our interview is so near, that I have little more to add, except a single caution about my own concerns, in which you will confess, that from Lovegrove, and Winton, to Newton, I have been generally unlucky. If any thing remains, present or future, it must be agitated and decided; but all retrospects are useless and painful, and we have so many pleasant subjects of conversation, that all such odious matters may be buried in oblivion. Adieu. I embrace My Lady and Louisa, but I no longer presume, even on paper, to embrace the tall and blooming Maria.

Ever yours,

E. G.

Let me find a letter at Elmsley's, and inform me of the direction of your agent Purden. I may possibly have a commission for him.

510.
To Lord Sheffield

Adelphi Hotel, August the 8th, 1787.

*Intelligence extraordinary. – This day (August the 7th) the celebrated E. G. arrived in the Adelphi with a numerous retinue (one Servant). We hear that he has brought over from Lausanne the remainder of his history for immediate publication. The post had left town before my arrival. I am pleased, but indeed astonished, to find myself in London, after a journey of six hundred miles, and hardly yet conceive how I had resolution to undertake it. I find myself not a little fatigued, and have devoted this hot day to privacy and repose, without having seen any body except Cadell and Elmsley, and my neighbour Batt, whose civility amounts to kindness and real friendship. But you may depend on it, that instead of sauntering in town, or giving way to every temptation, I will dispatch my necessary work, and hasten with impatience to the groves of Sheffield-place; a project somewhat more rational than the hasty, turbulent visit which your vigour had imagined. If you come up to quicken my diligence,¹¹⁴ we shall meet the sooner; but I see no appearance of my leaving town before the end of next week. I embrace, &c. Adieu.*

511.
To his Stepmother

Adelphi Hotel, August 9th, 1787.

My dear Madam,

At length, after a pleasant journey, I again breathe the air of my native country; and though I quitted with some regret my friends, my house, my garden, my library at Lausanne, I already find many objects that compensate my losses. I reached the Adelphi Hotel Wednesday the 8th instant, after the departure of the post. The first arrangements of my litterary business, and some social meetings will detain me here till the middle or end of next week, after which I shall bury myself at Sheffield-place to revise and correct. The printer mutters some complaints of the distance, but it is not possible at this time of year to confine myself to a sultry and solitary metropolis. Adieu, my dear Madam, let me soon have an account, and a favourable account, of yourself.

I am

Ever yours,

E. G.

512.
To Lord Sheffield

Tuesday, 1787.

Two lines to say that you dine with Mrs. Hanley Thursday, visit Pall Mall between eight and nine in the evening, and dine on Friday with Lord L[oughborough]. Lady L., if agreable, will be glad to see Maria, and to call on her in her carriage. All's well. Adieu. I wish we had My lady with us. I am impatient to see her.

513.
To his Stepmother

Sheffield-place, Sept. 23, 1787.

My dear Madam,

THE TWO MR. GIBBONS.

I am extremely happy that by Mrs. Holroyd's kind enquiries in my name, the veil is at length withdrawn, and a mistake is removed which has given us, with an appearance of reason, some mutual anxiety. No one doubtless is less entitled than myself to confound the indolence of the pen with the coldness of the heart, yet I must confess that I was surprized and grieved, that you should not take the smallest notice of the letter in which I had announced my arrival in England. Each post encreased my uneasiness, which was at the same time aggravated and soothed by the assurance from Mrs. H. that illness could not be the cause of your silence, and this day was the last which I had fixed for asking the favour of a line of comfort and explanation. By this you will understand that I have never received your kind answer directed to me in town, and, though the loss of a letter by the post is a rare, and to many, an incredible event, I can explain it in this instance by a singular concurrence of circumstances. Two Hotels which bear the name of the Adelphi stand opposite to each other, and two Mr. Gibbons were lodged at the same time in the adverse houses, as Lord Sheffield perceived on his coming up to find me out. Your direction was applied to my rival, and as he had already departed into the country, his letter must have been sent after him, and he alone is guilty for not acknowledging and rectifying the error.

I have now passed some weeks with our friends Lord and Lady Sheffield, who wish me to express in their name every sentiment of attachment and regard; they both lament the disappointment of their wishes of enjoying your company in this place, and would promise that during your stay, it should not be profaned by any American rebels, or any fashionable females whose conduct may be less calculated to edify than to please. I am here, very idle and very busy. After building a great house, a thousand little alterations, improvements and ornaments present themselves to the architect, and besides the trouble of painting and glazing some of the last apartments, I have the daily duty of receiving, correcting, and returning a printed sheet which is sent me from London. Impatient as I am to visit Bath, I must defer my journey till I am in a great measure got out of my litterary brick and mortar; and if I can postpone it till the beginning of December, Lord Sheffield gives me hopes of his company. The moments I can pass with you will be some of the most pleasing of my life, and it will give me real concern, that I shall find it impossible to prolong my visit as I could wish, much less to fix my winter residence at Bath.

I am, Dear Madam,

Most truly yours,

E. Gibbon.

514.
To his Stepmother

Sheffield-place, Nov. 11th, 1787.

Dear Madam,

HIS VISIT TO MRS. GIBBON.

Besides my usual dislike to letter-writing for which you so obligingly account, I have had an additional reason or excuse for my silence in the weekly dispatches which are transmitted from hence to Bath, and by which you are frequently apprized of my health and good spirits, the only circumstances which I could transcribe from this peaceful and uniform scene. It is with real pleasure that I see the approaching period of my journey to Bath. I leave this place next Sunday, and as I hope that a fortnight may suffice for some litterary business (consulting books, &c.) which can only be dispatched in town, I reckon with confidence on the satisfaction of embracing you at the Belvidere within a month from the present time. As to my old enemy the gout, it is impossible to answer for his motions, but I have not the slightest grounds to suspect him of any hostile intentions. Lord Sheffield wishes to accompany me in the journey and return, but so many obstacles may impede a man of business, that I must not depend on him with any degree of assurance. Will you be so good as to inform his sister how much I am obliged to her for thinking so often and so kindly of me?

I wish it were in your power to give me a more favourable account of your health, or at least of your strength, for I flatter myself that it is in the latter you are chiefly deficient. I am not without apprehension that the sight of a long-lost friend may exhaust your spirits by too much painful pleasure. Be persuaded, my Dear Madam, that you are the sole object of my journey, that I most sincerely request that you will not contrive any dinners or parties for my amusement, that my time will be most agreably spent in your conversation, and that I could wish to enlarge the number of days which my avocations in life and litterature will allow me to enjoy at Bath. Do not give yourself the trouble of an answer, and expect a line from town, as soon as I can fix the exact time of my departure.

Lord and Lady Sheffield wish me to convey in their names every wish and sentiment of friendship.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

515.
To Lord Sheffield

Wednesday, Nov. 27.

The assurance that neither giants nor dragons were to be feared between Sheffield Place and Pall Mall had induced me to leave to your fancy or judgment the well-known circumstances of changing horses, alighting from the chaise, surveying the lodging (bad and dear), ordering a fowl from the Cocoa-tree, &c., &c., and I feel every day the awkwardness of the six o'clock post. The first evening I passed at home and had scarcely dined when the Poet Hayley was announced: he embraced, forgave me, and we entered on a pleasant conversation of two hours. I mentioned to him your Christmas plan: he is grateful, but seems to decline it. However I shall see him again, and possibly he may fall in your way.

You would make me vain; nor am I less touched by the growlings of my lady, than by the praises of the Maria, whose probable excursion I applaud. As yet I have chiefly attended to my litterary concerns, and have only seen Crauford, the Lucans, Sir Joshua, &c. I have knocked without success at Lord Loughborough's door, but shall dine with him before the end of the week, perhaps with M. de Calonne,¹¹⁵ who is a favourite with all parties. Pitt in the general opinion seems to be the Hero of the day, and Lord Lucan, fresh from Paris, says that nothing can equal the conscious shame of the French, except their public abhorrence of the Queen, and their wild resolutions of freedom. Take care of Severy,¹¹⁶ I had rather he did not go to Lewes: a set of drunken dragoons.

As I may not write again (do not be furious) I can positively say that my departure for Bath is fixed for Saturday sennight, and that I shall expect you, &c., on Thursday at latest. For the possession of your house, I believe the Dutchess would scruple at few sacrifices either pecuniary or personal. Could you resist? Do not imitate my negligence in forgetting the herald John G.¹¹⁷ He will make a great figure at Bath. Adieu.

516.
To Lord Sheffield

Monday afternoon, 1787.

A MISERABLE CRIPPLE.

*I precipitate! I inconvenience! Alas! alas! I am a poor miserable cripple, confined to my chair. Last Wednesday evening I felt some flying symptoms of the gout: for two succeeding days I struggled bravely, and went in a chair to dine with Batt and Lord Loughborough: but on Saturday I yielded to my conqueror. I have now passed three wearisome days without amusement, and three miserable nights without sleep. Yet my acquaintance are charitable; and as virtue should never be made too difficult, I feel that a man has more friends in Pall Mall than in Bentinck Street. This fit is remarkably painful; the enemy is possessed of the left foot and knee, and how far he may carry the war, God only knows. Of futurity it is impossible to speak; but it will be fortunate if I am able to leave town by the end, not of this, but of the ensuing week. Pity me, magnanimous Baron; pity me, tender females; pity me, Swiss exile,¹¹⁸ and believe me, it is far better to be learning English at Uckfield. I write with difficulty, as the least motion or constraint in my attitude is repeated by all the nerves and sinews in my knee. But* in the daily papers *you shall find each day a note or bulletin of my health. To-morrow I must give pain to Mrs. G. Adieu.* Caplin's servant has other offers, and grows impatient for a speedy and final answer.

Ever yours,

E. G.

517.
To his Stepmother

Saturday, Nov. 30th, 1787.

Dear Madam,

I must reluctantly mention, what I could still wish to conceal: but the month of December approaches, and I may have been already betrayed by the Sheffield gazette. Your suspicions were but too just, and both my feet have been for some days past in the iron fetters of the gout. This obstacle must retard, though it shall not prevent my journey to Bath, and as soon as I am able to travel I shall summon Lord S., who with his daughter Maria is impatient to start. No term can be possibly assigned, but I feel with pleasure that the bitterness of the fit is past or passing, and the gouty tide now appears to ebb; whether its retiring motions will be slow or rapid, fluctuating or regular, I cannot foresee, but I wish you to believe that my pain is not a little aggravated by my disappointment. You will excuse my brevity, as I cannot write in a pleasant attitude, but in the course of next week you shall receive some account of my proceedings, either from me or Caplen. Adieu.

Ever yours,

E. G.

518.
To Lord Sheffield

Saturday, Dec. 1, 1787.

I resume the pen for a few moments, and with some difficulty, to say that I am not insensible of the complaints, exclamations, projects, &c., of the natives of Sheffield. Your daily missives have been uncomfortable, but when things are at the worst they begin to mend, and I flatter myself that the gouty tide is now ebbing. Last night (with some foreign aid) was the best I have known, and this day my pain is rather less severe. *What may be the future progress, whether slow or rapid, fluctuating or steady, time alone will determine, and to that master of human knowledge I must leave our Bath journey.* – Adieu. Lord Guilford is neither dead nor has been ill. – The D[uchess] of G[ordon] is in treaty for a house in Piccadilly. – The public voice is harmony and applause. Remember me to Severy. Perhaps next week.

I hear this moment from my landlady, Mrs. Crauford, the Gordon milliner, that the Dutchess has absolutely taken the house, and is removing without delay from Downing Street. Huzza.

519.
To Lord Sheffield

Saturday, 8th December.

DISARRANGEMENT OF HIS PLANS.

I thought we might have safely depended on Caplin's daily diligence, but you could fairly conclude from his silence that we advance with a fair wind. The venom of the Gouty humour is almost dispelled, and I am going on to reduce the size and recover the strength of my feet. Mama cannot be more impatient than myself for the signal of weighing anchor: this unlucky check has disarranged all my social and litterary projects: in a lodging I am destitute of a thousand comforts: my books are few, my society precarious, my days long and often tedious, nor is any thing less pleasant than to be left solitary and motionless while the world is flying round and round me. In point of kind, civil, assiduous attendance of male and female friends Lausanne had quite spoilt me.

In the course or chain of my winter designs, I most ardently wish to hasten the Bath journey, that I may urge our family settlement in Downing street, for I have felt by experience the difference between town and country with regard to the press. But wishes are not hopes, nor are hopes equivalent to assurances. Yet I think (should no reverse of fortune take place) that I can promise to ascend my post-chaise painfully enough either Friday or Saturday next, the 14th or 15th instant, and therefore, if you hear nothing to the contrary, your Lordship cum mamma amabili may find yourself in town the Wednesday or Thursday, and we will contrive, if I am strong enough, some dinner with Lord L., Batt, or elsewhere. I am much obliged to Severy for his letter and Lausanne news. I hope he is somewhat less miserable. Adieu, I am tired. Salutations to My lady, &c. Do you know anything more of the house?

520.
To his Stepmother

Dec. 10th, 1787.

Dear Madam,

I have the pleasure of informing you, that according to our last arrangements Lord S. comes to town next Thursday with Maria: that on Saturday we set out for Bath, and that on Sunday, about four or five o'clock, I hope to have the pleasure of visiting the Belvidere. This gouty impediment has been most unseasonable and disarranges the whole chain of my projects: but you may rest assured that I am not rash or precipitate: the disorder is leaving me in the most gentle and regular manner; the easy journey must do me good and cannot do me any possible harm, and I shall have the benefit of the adroit and faithful services of Caplen, who accompanies me. It is only unlucky that my old lodgings should be taken; but your prime minister will provide me with others as near as possible to the sole object of my journey.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

Depend on my taking the utmost care of myself.

521.
To Lady Sheffield

Bath, December 18th, 1787.

*Alas! alas! alas! How vain and fallacious are all the designs of man. This is now the 18th of December, precisely one month since my departure from Sheffield-place; and it was firmly my wish, my hope, my resolution, that after dispatching some needful business in London, and accomplishing a pious duty at Bath, I should by this day be restored to the tranquil leisure, and friendly society, of S. P. A cruel tyrant has disconcerted all my plans; my business in town has been neglected, my attendance at Bath is just begun, and my return is yet distant. I was not a little edified to hear of some expressions of regret and discontent on my departure; and though I am not able to produce as good evidence, you will perhaps believe that in the solitude of a London lodging I often railed at the gout for maliciously delaying his attack till I was removed from a place where my sufferings would have been alleviated by every kind and comfortable attention. I grew at last so desperately impatient, as to resolve on immediate flight, without waiting till I had totally expelled the foe, and recovered my strength. I performed the journey with tolerable ease, but the motion has agitated the remains of the humour. I am very lame, and a second fit may possibly be the punishment of my rashness.

AN ACT OF DUTY AT BATH.

As yet I have seen nothing of Bath except Mrs. G.; and weakness, as well as propriety, will confine me very closely to her.* I am carried over the way in a chair about one o'clock, maintain a conversation till ten o'clock in the evening, and am then reconveyed to my lodging. *Lord S., with Mrs. Holroyd and Maria, dined with us yesterday* on the haunch of venison, but such reliefs are not always to be expected, and I chearfully perform an act of duty which is necessary and cannot be long. I am astonished to see Mrs. Gibbon so well, and though undoubtedly weaker, she seems in the last five years to be very little altered either in mind or person. *We begin to throw out hints of the shortness of our stay, and indispensable business; and, unless I should be confined by the gout, it is resolved in our cabinet to leave Bath on Thursday the 26th, and passing through Lord Loughborough's and town, to settle at Sheffield, most assuredly, before the end of the year.* Maria, to whom every object is new and pleasant, and who begins to undraw the curtain of the great theatre, wonders and almost murmurs at our impatience. *For my own part I can say with truth, that did not the press loudly demand my presence, I could, without a sigh, allow the Dutchess to reign in Downing Street the greatest part of the winter, and should be happy in the society of two persons (no common blessing) whom I love, and by whom I am beloved.* I understand with pleasure and gratitude that with the assistance of two Ushers (Miss Firth and Mrs. Moss) you have undertaken the care of Severy's English studies, from whence I expect a most rapid progress. I know not whether yours in Trisset will be equal. Pray inform our pupil, that I shall write from hence to his parents, that I am much obliged to him for his letter, which I hope to answer in a fortnight at Sheffield-place.

*Adieu, Dear Madam, and believe me, with the affection of a friend and brother, ever Yours.*

522.
To Lady Sheffield

Bath, January 4th, 1788.

I congratulate you and myself on what I now consider as certain, the evacuation of Downing Street. Col. Fullarton, a cousin of the Dutchess, informed me yesterday, that after sending her children I know not where, perhaps to the parish, she had indignantly fled into the country. By this day's post I expect an official confirmation from Lord S., and as he will probably reach you as soon as this letter, the communication will inform him of my intended motions. You will admire the triumphant Maria, and your observation will soon discern whether it will be easy to brush the powder out of her hair, and the world out of her heart, or to shut her eyes after they have been once opened to the light of pleasure. This excursion will render our scheme still more necessary, and in my letter from hence I sound Madame de S. on the subject: the more I revolve it, I think the exchange will be pleasant and beneficial to my English and Swiss friends, whose mutual advantage I shall have the advantage of promoting. You have already understood that my precipitation in leaving London has been justly punished by a second and worse fit of the gout and a fortnight's confinement.

I now begin to crawl again on two crutches, and my first sally in a chair will be to return the charitable visits of the Dutchess and her friend the Ætherial of poor Lord North, &c. Were I capable of listening to experience or common sense, I should remain here a week or ten days longer; but I am so impatient to leave this place and to reach London and S. P. that I mean to escape next Monday: Tuesday afternoon and all Wednesday will be the least that my litterary business in town will require, and I have hopes of dining at S. P. on Thursday the 10th instant, after an absence twice as long and ten times as disagreeable as I expected. As I now run, not from you, but to you, you will view my rashness with indulgence, and nurse my infirmities with compassion. – Excuse me to Severy for not answering his two letters, and let him be in readiness to receive me. Adieu.

Ever yours,

E. G.

523.
To his Stepmother

Tuesday, the 14th January, about 1788.

Andover five o'Clock in the afternoon. – Safe, well, and hungry. Not a single Lyon or Giant to be seen on Salisbury plain. – Very odd!

524.
To Lady Sheffield

Bentinck Street, Thursday, Feb. 24th.

The Gibbon with his friend Nic (a very proper companion) still proposes to visit Sheffield Place, on Saturday next the 26th instant, but as he travels slowly and prudently with his own horses, they dine at Godstone and cannot reach the mansions of bliss before the dusk of evening. The Gibbon presume that the most amiable Lara means to allow him some extraordinary days.

525.
To his Stepmother

Downing Street, March 1st, 1788.

My Dear Madam,

HIS WORK AND FRIENDS.

As long as it was necessary that you should be informed of my motions and those of the gout, my letters succeeded each other with sufficient rapidity. The establishment of my health and strength has allowed me, from these unnatural efforts, to sink into my usual indolence, but I now begin to feel that my silence has lasted too long, and that you may entertain some doubts of my present state, unless I assure you by a line that it still continues easy and prosperous. I use with moderation the society of this great town, and although I do not lead a solitary life, yet my principal attention is bestowed on my domestic friends, and on the progress of my work, which is drawing fast to a conclusion. My own brevity will encourage you not to fatigue yourself by a long letter, but I wish to hear directly from you and about yourself, the object most truly interesting to your filial friend.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

526.
To his Stepmother

Downing Street, May 28th, 1788.

Dear Madam,

Both as an author and as a friend I am delighted with your kind approbation: and I enjoy the pleasing assurance that the perusal of my history¹¹⁹ may sometimes beguile a solitary hour, and recall the historian still more forcibly to your mind. For my own part I now feel as if a mountain was removed from my breast; as far as I can judge, the public unanimously applauds my compliment to Lord North,¹²⁰ and does not appear dissatisfied with the conclusion of my work. I look back with amazement on the road which I have travelled, but which I should never have entered had I been previously apprized of its length.

In your last letter you express some joy at the approach of summer, as it is connected with my second visit to Bath which I had promised to make before my departure for the Continent. On my side the promise will be most chearfully performed, and in the prospect of embracing a dear and valuable friend I shall ever esteem fatigue and expence as of small account. The Sheffields leave town in the beginning of next week; I must continue some days after them to pack up my books and dispatch some necessary business, and in about a fortnight I could undertake the journey to Bath. Yet before you resolve, I wish you coolly to weigh whether prudence should advise us to gratify or restrain our inclination. In my Christmas visit, confined as I was by the gout, I could not but observe how much my presence and your desire of inviting company to amuse me deranged the privacy of your life and the distribution of your hours. Delicate health and spirits like yours are agitated even by the pleasure, the tumultuous pleasure, of an interview; and that pleasure is embittered by the painful foresight of an approaching separation. According to my arrangements, which it is no longer in my power to break, I must return to Lausanne early in the month of July, nor can I indulge my wishes at the Belvidere beyond the term of a week. That week is perfectly at your service, and I only hope to receive your commands as soon as possible. Lord and Lady S. beg to be remembered to you in the kindest manner.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

527.
To Lord Sheffield

Hampton Court, Wednesday, June 16th, three o'clock.

Whether you mean to abuse or applaud me, you must postpone that pleasure from Sunday the 20th to Saturday the 26th. I have some literary accounts to settle before I shut my shop for some months, and they have run, as it commonly happens, to a greater length than I had expected. This delay happens likewise to be very convenient to my agreeable companion Mr. Nicholls, who salutes the whole Barony with proper respect.

528.
To Lord Sheffield

Downing-street, Saturday (June 17th, 1788).

HORRORS OF SHOPPING AND PACKING.

*I have but a moment between my return home and my dressing, and heartily tired I am; for I am now involved in the horrors of shopping, packing, &c.; yet I must write four lines to prevent a growl and a damn, which might salute the arrival of an empty-handed post on Sunday. I hope the whole caravan, Christians and pagans, arrived in good health at the castle; that the Turrets begin to rise to the third Heaven; that each has found a proper occupation; and that Tuft¹²¹ enjoys the freedom and felicity of the lawn.

Yesterday the august scene was closed for this year. Sheridan surpassed himself;¹²² and though I am far from considering him as a perfect orator, there were many beautiful passages in his speech, on justice, filial love, &c.; one of the closest chains of argument I ever heard, to prove that Hastings was responsible for the acts of Middleton; and a compliment, much admired, to a certain historian of your acquaintance. Sheridan, in the close of his speech, sunk into Burke's arms; but I called this morning, he is perfectly well.* A good Actor!¹²³

*I fear that I shall not be able to dine at home a single day. To-morrow Severy and myself go to Bushy. I hope to be with you by Sunday the 22nd Instant,* but I find I have much to do, and the most important business of my Magdalen farms is not concluded. You know Hugonin's method of writing most when there is least occasion for it. I have not had a line from him since I sent the College license. *The casing of my books is a prodigious operation. Adieu.*

529.
To Lord Sheffield

Downing-street, June 21st, 1788.

DINNER WITH WARREN HASTINGS.

*Instead of the historian, you receive a short letter; in your eyes an indispensable tribute. This day, at length, after long delay and frequent expostulation, I have received the writings, which I am now in the act of signing, sealing, and delivering, according to the lawyer's directions.* They return to-night by the Mail Coach into Hugonin's hands, from which they will not depart till the money is paid. I hope to receive it next Tuesday; next Wednesday must be employed with the Darrels in proper investments, and the Thursday I hope to be at Sheffield. *You see my departure is not postponed a moment by idleness or pleasure, but the precise day still hangs on contingencies, and we must all be patient, if our wishes should be thwarted. I say our wishes, for I sincerely desire to be with you. I have had many dinners, some splendid and memorable, with Hastings last Thursday, with the Prince of Wales next Tuesday,* both by special desire. *But the town empties, Texier is silent, and in an evening, I desiderate the resources of a family or a club. Caplen has finished the Herculean labour, and seven Majestic boxes will abdicate on Monday your hall. Severy has likewise dispatched his affairs, and secured his Companion Clarke, who is arrived in town; but his schemes are abridged by the inexorable rigour of Lord Howe, who has assured our great and fair Intercessors, that by the king's orders the dock-yards are shut against all strangers. We therefore give up Portsmouth, and content ourselves with two short trips; one to Stowe and Oxford, the other to Chatham; and if we can catch a launch and review, encore vit-on. He (Severy, not Lord Howe) salutes with me the Christians and Pagans of the family. Adieu. Yours.*

530.
To Lord Sheffield

Downing street, Saturday, June 25th, 1788(?).

*According to your imperious law I write a line, to postpone my arrival to Friday, or perhaps Saturday, but I hope Friday, and I promise you that not a moment shall be wasted.

And now let me add a cool word as to my final departure, which is irrevocably fixed between the 10th and 15th of July. After a full and free enjoyment of each other's society, let us submit, without a struggle, to reason and fate. It would be idle to pretend business at Lausanne; but a compleat year will elapse before my return. Severy and myself are now expected with some impatience.* I desire to see my own house; my own library; my own garden, whose summer beauties are each day losing something. *I am thankful for your hospitable entertainment; but I wish you to remember Homer's admirable precept:

"Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest."

Spare me, therefore, spare yourself, the trouble of a fruitless contest, in which (according to a great author) I foresee a certain loss of time, and a probable loss of temper. The Petersfield business is terminated, and I have received the money; but Darrel will not come to town from Richmond. I believe we shall have both Craufurd and Hugonin at Sheffield-place. Adieu.*

531.
To his Stepmother

Sheffield place, June 29th, 1788.

My dearest Madam,

I must indeed be incorrigible, since I could delay an answer to your last kind and generous letter: but you will again exercise that kind indulgence, nor shall I aggravate my old offence by a formal and foolish apology. I am now at Sheffield-place preparing for my departure, which is only delayed by an excursion of my young friend to Oxford and perhaps to Bath, in which case he will certainly request of Mrs. Holroyd the favour of presenting him to you. The Sheffields have not been so firm and reasonable as yourself, and in the bitter mixture of our last interview I strongly feel the propriety of your choice. – I propose setting out between the 10th and 15th of next month, and, as long as the journey can inspire you with the smallest doubt or apprehension, you may depend on hearing punctually from me. After I subside in the calm of a Lausanne life, my diligence will probably be relaxed: yet I hope more than I dare promise.

POSSIBLE SALE OF BERITON.

With Lord Sheffield's advice I begin to entertain some thoughts of disposing of Buriton. A landed Estate, to me an useless incumbrance, is attended with many drawbacks and expences: and as several rich neighbours, Lord Egremont, Lord Stawell, and Mr. Bonham are eager for the purchase, it is probable that while I diminish my cares, I may almost double my income. Before any serious steps are taken in the business, your ease and interest will be first consulted, and as I propose leaving a considerable part of the purchase money on the Estate, your jointure may be secured on the same kinds as firmly as before. Lord Sheffield, in whose honour and abilities you have a perfect confidence, will correspond with you on the subject, and you may be assured that nothing shall be done without your full and chearful approbation. Lord and Lady Sheffield beg me to communicate in their name all the wishes of regard and friendship.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

532.
To his Stepmother

Sheffield-place, July the 18th, 1788.

My dear Madam,

A kind and generous behaviour is what I always expect from you; and your obliging condescension with regard to Buriton, the sale of which would place me in so desirable a situation, excites rather gratitude than surprize in my breast. I agree with you in wishing to refer the detail of this business to your correspondence with Lord Sheffield, who will weigh every circumstance and every objection, who will consider in the first place your satisfaction, and my interest in the second. Let me only say that the idea of a Mortgage was partly for your security and partly from an apprehension of trusting my whole fortune to the public credit; that such an investment of money unites, when it is carefully made, the solidity of land with the clear ready payment of the funds, and that I am not less averse than yourself to any connection, open or clandestine, with the member for Petersfield.

To-morrow I shall leave this place, where I have been detained much longer than I intended by an indisposition of poor Severy which prevented him from waiting on you at Bath. I dine to-morrow at Tunbridge-Wells with Lord North, reach Dover Sunday, pass the water, if possible, Monday, and repose myself at Lausanne about Wednesday sevennight the 30th instant. You are too well acquainted with the World and with me not to smile at the report of my approaching marriage, of which you might be sure of having the earliest and most direct information. Cadell is too discreet to have opened his mouth on a subject, on which for particular reasons we had mutually promised secrecy. The public, where it costs them nothing, are extravagantly liberal; yet I will allow with Dr. Johnson "that booksellers in this age are not the worst patrons of litterature."

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

533.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, July 30, 1788. – Wednesday, 3 o'clock.

*I have but a moment to say, before the departure of the post, that, after a very pleasant journey, I arrived here about half an hour ago; that I am as well arranged, as if I had never stirred from this place; and that dinner on the table is just announced. Severy I dropt at his country-house about two leagues off. I just saluted the family, who dine with me the day after to-morrow, and return to town for some days, I hope weeks, on my account. The son is an amiable and grateful Youth; and even this journey has taught me to know and to love him still better. My satisfaction would be compleat, had I not found a sad and serious alteration in poor Deyverdun; but thus our joys are checkered! I embrace all; and at this moment feel the last pang of our parting at Tunbridge. Convey this letter or information, without delay, from Sheffield-place to Bath. In a few days I shall write more amply to both places.*

534.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, August the 16th, 1788.

Dear Madam,

RETURN TO LAUSANNE.

The day and indeed the moment of my arrival in this place I announced the event by a short missive to Sheffield-place, and desired that the intelligence might be forwarded without delay to the Belvidere. The perils of the ocean and the road, imaginary perils, are now over, and I am again seated in the elegant repose of my library and garden: free to enjoy all the pleasures of study, my first pleasures, but no longer chained to the regular performance of a laborious task. At this time of the year small as well as great cities are emptied of their most dignified inhabitants: yet if I were not rather disposed to a sedentary life, I could find in the town and adjacent country what Mr. Christie (?) calls a very respectable vicinage. But their names and characters would be uninteresting to you, and with the best intentions a correspondence with a distant friend must degenerate into mutual questions and answers concerning each other. The only person here with whom you are acquainted, poor Deyverdun, is, I much fear, in a state of decline, though I hope not of actual danger: that would indeed be a loss.

Present my kindest remembrance to Mrs. Holroyd, and if they are with you, to the Goulds. I lament that I never saw them during my stay in England.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. Gibbon.

535.
To Lord Sheffield

October 1, 1788.

*After such an act of vigour as my first letter, composed, finished, and dispatched within half an hour after my landing, while the dinner was smoaking on the table, your knowledge of the animal must have taught you to expect a proportionable degree of relaxation; and you will be satisfied to hear, that, for many Wednesdays and Saturdays, I have consumed more time than would have sufficed for the Epistle, in devising reasons for procrastinating it to the next post. At this very moment I begin so very late, as I am just going to dress, and dine in the Country, that I can take only the benefit of the date, October the first, and must be content to seal and send my letter next Saturday.

October the 4th.

Saturday is now arrived, and I much doubt whether I shall have time to finish. I rose, as usual, about seven; but as I knew I should have so much time, you know it would have been ridiculous to begin any thing before Breakfast. When I returned from my breakfast-room to the library, unluckily I found on the table some new and interesting books, which instantly caught my attention; and without injuring my correspondent, I could safely bestow a single hour to gratify my curiosity. Some things I found in them insensibly led me to other books, and other enquiries; the morning has stolen away, and I shall be soon summoned to dress and dine with the two Severys, father and son, who are returned from the Country on a disagreeable errand, an illness of Madame, from which she is, however, recovering. Such is the faithful picture of my mind and manners, and from a single day disce omnes.

ILLNESS OF DEYVERDUN.

After having been so long chained to the oar, in a splendid galley indeed, I freely and fairly enjoy my liberty as I promised in my preface; range without controul over the wide expanse of my library; converse, as my fancy prompts me, with poets and historians, philosophers and Orators, of every age and language; and often indulge my meditations in the invention and arrangement of mighty works, which I shall probably never find time or application to execute. My garden, berceau, and pavillion often varied the scene of my studies; the beautiful weather which we have enjoyed exhilarated my spirits, and I again tasted the wisdom and happiness of my retirement, till that happiness was interrupted by a very serious calamity, which took from me, for above a fortnight, all thoughts of study, of amusement, and even of correspondence. I mentioned in my first letter the uneasiness I felt at poor Deyverdun's declining health, how much the pleasure of my life was embittered by the sight of a suffering and languid friend. The joy of our meeting appeared at first to revive him; and, though not satisfied, I began to think, at least to hope, that he was every day gaining ground; when, alas! one morning I was suddenly recalled from my berceau to the house, with the dreadful intelligence of an Apoplectic stroke; I found him senseless: the best assistance was instantly collected; and he had the aid of the genius and experience of Mr. Tissot, and of the assiduous care of an ordinary Physician, who for some time scarcely quitted his bedside either night or day.* You will understand his danger when I recapitulate the operations of a few hours – leeches, six bleeding vomits, purges, clysters, blisters to his thighs, warm baths, and mustard to his feet. *While I was in momentary dread of a relapse, with a confession from his physicians that such a relapse must be fatal, you will feel that I was much more to be pitied than my friend. At length, Art or Nature triumphed over the enemy of life. I was soon assured that all immediate danger was past: and now for many days I have had the satisfaction of seeing him recover, though by slow degrees, his health and strength, his sleep and appetite. He now walks about the garden, and receives his particular friends, but has not yet gone abroad. His future health will depend very much upon his own prudence: but, at all events, this has been a very serious warning; and the slightest indisposition will hereafter assume a very formidable aspect.

But let us turn from this melancholy subject. – The man of the people¹²⁴ escaped from the tumult, the bloody tumult of the Westminster Election,¹²⁵ to the lakes and mountains of Switzerland, and I was informed that he was arrived at the Lyon d'Or. I sent a compliment; he answered it in person;* we returned together to the Inn, brought away the fair Mrs. Armstead,¹²⁶ *and settled at my house for the remainder of the day. I have eat and drank, and conversed and sat up all night with Fox in England; but it never has happened, perhaps it never can happen again, that I should enjoy him as I did that day, alone,* for his fair Companion was a cypher,* from ten in the morning till ten at night. Poor Deyverdun, before his accident, wanted spirits to appear, and has regretted it since. Our conversation never flagged a moment; and he seemed thoroughly pleased with the place and with his Company. We had little politicks; though he gave me, in a few words, such a character of Pitt, as one great man should give of another his rival: much of books, from my own, on which he flattered me very pleasantly, to Homer and the Arabian nights; much about the country, my garden (which he understands far better than I do), and, upon the whole, I think he envies me, and would do so were he Minister. The next morning I gave him a guide to walk him about the town and country, and invited some company to meet him at dinner. The following day he continued his journey to Berne and Zurich, and I have heard of him by various means. The people gaze on him as a prodigy, but he shows little inclination to converse with them.* The wit and beauty of his Companion are not sufficient to excuse the scandalous impropriety of shewing her to all Europe, and you will not easily conceive how he has lost himself in the public opinion, which was already more favourable to his Rival. Will Fox never know the importance of character?

Far different has been the conduct and success of *our friend Douglas;¹²⁷ he has been curious, attentive, agreeable; and in every place where he has resided some days, he has left acquaintance who esteem and regret him: I never knew so clear and general an impression.

After this long letter I have yet many things to say, though none of any pressing consequence. I hope you are not idle in the deliverance of Buriton, though the late events and edicts in France begin to reconcile me to the possession of dirty acres. What think you of Necker¹²⁸ and the States generals? Are not the public expectations sanguine? Adieu. I will write soon to My Lady separately, though I have not any particular subject for her ear.

Ever yours,*

E. Gibbon.

536.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, Nov. 29, 1788.

INSANITY OF GEORGE III.

*As I have no Correspondents but yourself, I should have been reduced to the stale and stupid communications of the papers, if you had not most gloriously dispatched me a sketch of the* strange revolution that three Kingdoms should depend on the brain of one man!¹²⁹ *In so new a case the Salus populi must be the first law; and any extraordinary acts of the two remaining branches of the Legislature must be excused by necessity, and ratified by general consent.* Yet I cannot any more than yourself understand this speedy and peremptory sentence of the Medical tribe. The apprehension or rather hope of his death may admonish the reigning ministers not to irritate the heir apparent: otherwise, since they have a Majority, what should prevent them from shackling him with a Counsel, or from tacking to the address of support a request that he would not change his servants? They have the confidence (aye growl) of the Country and of Europe: by them, I mean Pitt. *Till things are settled, I expect a regular Journal.

From kingdoms I descend to farms,* and the latter in a selfish consideration are not the least important and interesting. You seem to have made a considerable progress in the Buriton affair, since you would not have fixed the price without a careful survey and valuation of each particular founded on your own judgement and that of some able professor. You do not however mention that you have employed any such person. I submit to your science, but I cannot say that I am fond of this mode of auctions: besides the publicity, which on this occasion may be dangerous, you expose yourself either to let the estate go for an inadequate price or to an improper purchaser; or else by purchasing it in, you incur the expences, tax, &c., to a large amount. Since we know the persons whom Buriton best suits, suppose Bonham, Lords Stawell, and Egremont, might not the same end be answered with less inconvenience by writing at the same time a public circular letter to each, and desiring that by a certain day they would send in sealed proposals? Would they not have the same inducement to bid against one another? Upon the whole the 18,000 pounds would make me happy for life. Yet I would not proceed hastily in this momentous business. What is the motive of Hugonin's sudden migration, is it health, distress, fancy? Where does he settle? Who will take care of my affairs? A year's rent is now due, besides some arrears.

I have written to my two old Ladies without receiving answers. What are your accounts from Bath? I hope you have satisfied her about the sale of Buriton, which I would much sooner delay than give her any uneasiness. I wish we had a correspondent at Stamford (that Attorney whose name I have forgot, who called upon me in Downing Street) to give you notice in case it should please Almighty God, &c. – Deyverdun is not worse. Yet I much doubt whether you will see him next year. Do you still persist? Thinking as you do, I feel the force of a certain objection, and must own that a small circle is often more dangerous than a large one. I likewise fear for yourself the want of occupation in winter, and am now apprehensive of the views of Parliament, office, &c., that may open themselves under a new and friendly reign. As soon as you are absolutely determined let me know; as the arrangement of a proper house would not be easy.

The Severys are well and all impatient to see you. I have passed three weeks with them at Rolle, as comfortably as at S.P.: we made a tour to Geneva. The youth is perfectly reconciled to his little Country. If My Lady, in the paradise of Brighton, could find leisure for a line, it would be gracious. Adieu.

537.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, Dec. 13, 1788.

DEATH OF HUGONIN.

Poor Hugonin! I can assure you that my thoughts, my first thoughts at least when I read your letter, turned much more on himself. I knew him from my youth: he was an honest useful friend, and though he could never be much of a companion to me, I always loved and esteemed him. His death is a loss if an auction at Petersfield was ever an advisable measure. You have considered and must have determined before this can reach you. But if it be not too late, revolve the advantages and inconveniences of auctions.

Buriton is no elegant villa which may catch the eye and fancy of a stranger; it is an heap of dirty acres which can only derive their extraordinary value from local merit. Will any man give so much as Mr. Bonham and Lord Stawell, and in that case would not a private treaty with them be more easy and effectual? I again repeat that Mrs. Gibbon must be perfectly satisfied. I hope you will not let it go under £18,000. We once talked of twenty.

*Of public affairs I can only hear with curiosity and wonder: careless as you may think me, I feel myself deeply interested. You must now write often; make Miss Firth copy any curious fragments; and stir up any of my well-informed acquaintance, Batt, Douglas, Adam, perhaps Lord Loughborough, &c., to correspond with me; I will answer them.

We are now cold and gay at Lausanne. The Severys came to town Yesterday. I saw a good deal of Lords Malmsbury¹³⁰ and Beauchamp and their Ladies; Ellis,¹³¹ of the Rolliad, was with them; I like him much: I gave them a great dinner.

Adieu for the present. Deyverdun is not worse.*

Will you direct Richard Andrews to collect and remitt my year's rent which is now payable? I suppose he can be trusted, and that you can authorize him. H.'s departure seems to be a new reason for disposing of Buriton.

538.
To Lord Sheffield

December 31st, 1788.

HUGONIN'S DISHONESTY.

This moment I receive and answer your Epistle. We are in the midst of the hardest winter I ever felt, and three English mails are arrived at once this morning. A black prospect indeed of public and private affairs, and such is my patriotism that I must fairly own the latter are predominant in my thoughts. Is it possible that my old friend poor Hugonin should turn out a rogue? I thought him both an honest and a frugal man, but the facts you mention are strongly against him. Is it possible that his landed property, which was considerable, should be insufficient to satisfy my demands and those of all his creditors? Is it possible that, living retired in the Country, he should have deranged his affairs? I still flatter myself that his executors must and can repay any sums which he may have borrowed in my name, and though there should be some delay, I still hope that, with proper steps on your side, there will not finally be much loss. If all is indeed desperate down to Hugonin's strange receipt in full, it is not a year but a year and a half's rent that I have miserably lost, as I had been persuaded or compelled to allow six months' grace, and to be satisfied with receiving before Christmas the year's rent which had been due the preceding Lady-day. There is besides some arrear of rent from the College farms which was due at the time of the sale, and which Hugonin has never clearly settled. Such a blow, at least of seven or eight hundred pounds, will most essentially distress me, and derange those schemes of comfort and order which I now thought most firmly established. You are my only refuge. Could I hope (I may wish, I must not ask) that you would get into your post-chaise in Downing Street and run down to Petersfield? Your eagle-eye and active firmness would see more and do more in eight and forty hours than all the agents and letters in the World. If this be too much, a man of confidence (is Purden fit for the commission?) might be sent to make a full observation and report of the state of accounts, and of the farm at Beriton with respect both to present arrangements and final operations. Andrews has a fair character, but an Attorney!

This unforeseen and unfortunate blow encreases my desire of getting rid of such dangerous and ungovernable property; and from the produce of any sum between 18 and 15,000 pounds I could certainly draw a larger and safer income than I enjoy at present. But how to proceed. Is Mrs. G. of Bath perfectly satisfied? I have not heard from her nor do you mention her name. Have you heard of the Northamptonshire Saint? You wait for my instructions, I can send none. You are an able and active friend, and I shall acquiesce in all you think right, even in the auction, which does not thoroughly suit my taste. I should prefer a fair Gentlemanlike private address to Bonham either by letter or in person. For God's sake, or rather for friendship's sake, comfort and extricate me. I am in low spirits. Adieu.

Ever yours,

E. G.

Write soon – I think the earliest and most vigorous steps should be taken for making my demand on H.'s executors. Is there no allusion between him and the Tenant? if there is would it not invalidate his unusual receipt?

539.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, Feb. 4th, 1789.

If Hugonin's debt be desperate I must submit, but there is no imbecillity in saying that the loss will derange my plans, since I must sell out of the funds to supply the deficiency. The amount of my fruitless demand I cannot specify, but you may easily make it out by comparing Hugonin's remittances to the Goslings with the rent-roll of the Estate. Mrs. G. of Bath must doubtless be satisfied and secured in any way and on any fund which her prudence or fancy may prefer. You had once dropt something of giving her a security on your Estate. That method, which could not be attended with any risk or inconvenience to yourself, would perhaps be most agreable to all parties. I most sincerely hope that the sale may be already dispatched by private contract, before the decisive 18th of February. Why should you confine yourself to so short a day, since the town is equally full in March and April? and you are sensible how much the failure of the auction would blast any other operations. Is it yet too late for a delay? I mean only of some weeks, for I am very desirous of terminating this winter, in the present prosperous state of the Country: and indeed so desirous that I could patiently submit to a much larger abatement, to be at last possessed of a much better income free from those accidents and deductions to which land is so woefully exposed. You talk of £18,000, but if you could not get more than 17 or even 16, I might afterwards repent your refusal. I would certainly vest part in a mortgage, but I would rather chuse my man and my county, and should like to have the security of a larger estate than that of Buriton. While such an one was looking for, the part of the purchase money not secured to Mrs. G. might lye safely in the funds.

I have not heard from either of the old Ladies, and wish you could inform yourself of the state of the Northamptonshire Saint. If you will apply to my good friend Lord Spencer, he could easily find you a correspondent in that neighbourhood who without noise or scandal might send you regular and early notice of her decline and fall. – On smaller matters you are too earnest and almost angry: the continuance of the foreign papers I could not foresee and will try to rectify. Jones's bill, a trifle of about ten pounds, I will settle —

Had I the least idea of the 25 guineas of the Royal society, I should not have solicited so useless a title: but the dye is now cast, and I will write to Elmsley to satisfy that demand as well as the Antiquarian and African. I certainly did not give him any orders about newspapers, magazines, &c., as I cannot devise any method of getting them in any reasonable time without an extravagant expence. Your copiousness on my affairs makes you concise on those of the public. The debates and the outside transactions I can read in English and foreign papers, but from you, as Cicero says to his friend Cœlius (ad familiares, L. ii. Ep. 8) nec præterita nec præsentia, sed ut ab homine longe in posterum prospiciente futura exspecto, ut ex tuis litteris, cum formam Rei publicæ viderim, quale ædificium futurum sit scire possim. Above all I wish to hear what part you are likely yourself to act in the new regency, your hopes, your wishes, and whether you intend next winter to breathe the free and pleasant air of Lausanne or to tug at the parliamentary and official oar, amid the fogs of London.

DEYVERDUN'S SECOND ATTACK.

Of my book I have not leisure or inclination to talk. Its genuine reputation will rise or fall without any regard to the barking critics who always attend the heels of any popular work. Two translations are printing at Paris, and two English editions in Germany. I embrace My lady, &c., and still hold my intention of writing. Adieu. Severy tells his own story. I believe he is a tolerable correspondent. Poor Deyverdun has had another, a slighter, attack; he is now better, but I fear that his days will be neither long nor happy. A melancholy theme. Once more Adieu.

E. G.

540.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, February 28th, 1789.

Dear Madam,

Immediately on my return to this place, I wrote to inform you of my safe arrival: but some months have now elapsed without hearing from you. I should not have patiently acquiesced under this silence, had I not in the mean time obtained, through the channel of Mrs. Holroyd and Lord Sheffield, such frequent and authentic information as gave me tolerable though not perfect satisfaction on the very interesting subject of your health and happiness. With regard to my own I have no reason to complain. I have supported without inconvenience the short but severe cold of this winter; the gout has not yet invaded my tranquillity, and I again enjoy the life of society and study which renders Lausanne so agreable to my taste. The heaviest drawback is the state of poor Deyverdun. Besides a gradual and visible decline he has had two strokes of an Apoplexy, and as these dreadful warnings cannot teach him a lesson of temperance, his physicians do not allow me to entertain a hope of his recovery.

My desire to get rid of Buriton is much confirmed by a very disagreable proof of the danger of distant and landed property. Hugonin is just dead, and dead insolvent: his real estate is entailed on his brother, his personals will not satisfy his bond creditors, and as he had given receipts to my tenants down to Michaelmas last, I must lose without hopes of redress the rent and arrears of a year and a half. An heavy and unseasonable loss! Yet notwithstanding my ardour to shake off the incumbrance, I have made it my first condition with Lord Sheffield that in the progress of the business he shall obtain not only your legal consent, but your free and chearful approbation. Since you dislike a mortgage, the security of your jointure may be transferred to an adequate part of the purchase money, vested in the funds, or if you prefer land I am persuaded that Lord S. will not refuse the broad basis of his Sussex estate. May you long enjoy an income which I have often wished it were in my power to enlarge to the full measure of my affection.

Let me hear from you soon; if writing be inconvenient, I am persuaded that Mrs. or Miss Gould would discharge with pleasure the office of secretary.

I am, Dear Madam,

Ever yours,

E. G.

541.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, April 25, 1789.

THE SALE OF BERITON.

*Before your letter, which I received yesterday, I was in the anxious situation of a King, who hourly expects a courier from his general, with the news of a decisive engagement. I had abstained from writing, for fear of dropping a word, or betraying a feeling, which might render you too cautious or too bold. On the famous 8th of April, between twelve and two, I reflected that the business was determined; and each succeeding day I computed the speedy approach of your messenger, with favourable or melancholy tidings. When I broke the seal I expected to read, "What a damned unlucky fellow you are! Nothing tolerable was offered, and I indignantly withdrew the estate." I did remember the fate of poor Lenborough, and I was afraid of your magnanimity, &c.* Well, then, I have £16,000 pounds instead of Buriton! upon the whole I rejoyce in the exchange, although the sum has fallen short of our expectations, and I feel the weight of the reasons which kept it down. But if Lord Stawell was the only bidder, why in God's name could he not make the same offer by private contract, and save me the expences of the Auction, which I fear are considerable? Pray who pays the tax, the buyer or the seller, and what deduction will occur on the gross sum?

What I am specially pleased with is the character of the purchaser, or rather of his agent, whom I still suppose to be my old acquaintance, Mr. Sainsbury, a man of sense, experience, and a fair reputation. He was bred an Attorney at Petersfield, knows every inch of the estate, and would not have suffered his Lord to purchase without having the money, or to give a price above the real value. From him we shall have no captious difficulties or evasive delays – he will be content with a fair title, and I flatter myself that the whole business will be terminated with ease and despatch. But as many things fall out between the cup and the lip, your friendship I am sure will not be asleep, you will goad the slow-paced lawyers, and settle Mrs. G.'s security for her jointure in the manner most convenient and agreable for herself. By what time do you probably suppose that I may have the money in my pocket? It would be generous, too generous perhaps, in Lord S. and his agent, if they would make the payment and take possession of the estate on your act and guarantee without waiting for the return of the writings from Lausanne. I have sketched a short paper which you may shew them if you think it will be of any use.

*It is whimsical enough, but it is in human nature, that I now begin to think of the deep-rooted foundations of land, and the airy fabrick of the funds. I not only consent, but even wish, to have eight or ten thousand pounds on a good mortgage; but I think the whole of that sum too large for Buriton, and conceive that Lord Stawell should reinforce it by some collateral security.* How often have I regretted my dear New-river share which the Goslings so rudely tore from me. I should not be unwilling to repurchase it for the same money, I mean instead of the mortgage. – I forgot to say, indeed it is needless, that I suppose all proper care has been taken about a deposit, and to secure my receipt of the rents till the payment of the money. A propos of the rents, half a year is now due since that worthy general discharge of last Michaelmas, and I desire that Andrews may instantly exact it, it will be a seasonable supply, and if Heartfee suffers any inconvenience it will be no more than a just punishment for his scandalous and manifest collusion with poor Hugonin, whose merits I am more inclined to remember than his faults.

Mrs. G[ibbon] of Cliffe has not answered my letters, and I am anxious to learn the state of her health. Her correspondent in town is Mr. Law, I know not of what trade, in Sun Court, Cornhill or Cheapside: if you call on him in one of your morning walks you may gain and transmit some information. – When you see your Madeira friends (is not his name Millighan?) of John Street, pray thank him in my name; the wine proves excellent, it is a credit to my table, and a comfort to my health. I want a pipe that he can answer for, and as bottles almost double the expence, I think it should be packed carefully in a double cask, and sent with all convenient speed to Messieurs Romberg at Ostend, the greatest voituriers in Europe: they must be instructed to forward it with all proper precaution to their correspondent at Basil or Basle in Switzerland, who must keep it safe till he has received from me a permit for its admission into the Canton of Berne, which I shall be able to send beforehand if Messieurs Romberg inform me of his name and direction. For want of such a permit my former wine *was seized, and would have been confiscated, if the Government of Berne had not treated me with the most flattering and distinguished civility: they not only released the wine, but they paid out of their own pocket the shares to which the Bailiff and the informer were entitled by law. I should not forget that the Bailiff refused to accept of his part.

Poor Deyverdun's constitution is quite broken; he has had two or three attacks, not so violent as the first: every time the door is hastily opened, I expect to hear of some fatal accident: the best or worst hopes of the Physicians are only that he may linger some time longer; but, if he lives till the summer, they propose sending him to some mineral waters at Aix, in Savoy. You will be glad to hear that I am now assured of possessing, during my life, this delightful house and garden. The act has been lately executed in the best form, and the handsomest manner.

RECOVERY OF GEORGE III.

I know not what to say of your miracles at home: we rejoyce in the king's recovery, and its ministerial consequences; and I cannot be insensible to the hope, at least the chance, of seeing in this Country a first Lord of trade, or Secretary at War. In your answer, which I shall impatiently expect, you will give me a full and true account of your designs, which by this time must have droppt, or be determined at least, for the present year. If you come, it is high time that we should look out for a house – a task much less easy than you may possibly imagine.*

I embrace My Lady with warm affection, and still cherish the firm intention of writing to her soon. But the Dame pays more attention to the Epistles which she does not, than to those which she does, receive. At her request Madame de Severy wrote her a long letter about the two Tufts and many other important matters, and Mademoiselle at my desire added a scrap for Mademoiselle. They begin to wonder at her silence, and accuse the negligence of the post. By her correspondence with Severy I rejoyce to find that the clouds are dispelled, and hope that she leads Maria into the winter pleasures of the World.

*Among new books, I recommend to you the Count de Mirabeau's great work, sur la Monarchie Prussienne;¹³² it is in your own way, and gives a very just and compleat idea of that wonderful machine. His Correspondence secrette is diabolically good. Adieu. Ever yours.*

542.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, June 13, 1789.

*You are in truth a wise, active, indefatigable, and inestimable friend; and as our virtues are often connected with our faults, if you were more tame and placid, you would be perhaps of less use and value. A very important and difficult transaction seems to be nearly terminated with success and mutual satisfaction: we seem to run before the wind with a prosperous gale; and, unless we should strike on some secret rocks, which I do not foresee, we shall, on or before the 31st July, enter the harbour of content; though I cannot pursue the metaphor by adding we shall land, since our operation is of the very opposite tendency. I could not easily forgive myself for shutting you up in a dark room with parchments and attornies, did I not reflect that this probably is the last material trouble that you will ever have on my account; and that, after the labours and delays of near twenty years, I shall at last attain what I have always sighed for, a clear and competent income, above my wants, and equal to my wishes. In this contemplation you will be sufficiently rewarded. I hope Sainsbury will be content with our title-deeds, for I cannot furnish another shred of parchment.*

ANXIETY FOR HIS STEPMOTHER.

What difficulty can arise about our family Wills? My father made none, and I took out letters of administration as heir at law: my grandfather's may be found at the Commons for a shilling: but it is not worth that shilling, since I joyned on coming of age with my father to cut off the entail. Our fine and recovery (in the year 1758) are doubtless registered in the proper courts. I as little understand the want of my father's marriage settlement. With his first wife? she has been dead above forty years, and I am her sole representative. With his second, the present Mrs. Gibbon? From her it may be easily procured, and you are not ignorant that *her jointure of £200 a year is secured on the Buriton estate, and that her legal consent is requisite for the sale. Again and again I must repeat my hope that she is perfectly satisfied, and that the close of her life may not be embittered by suspicion, or fear, or discontent. What new security does she prefer, – the funds, the mortgage, or your land? At all events she must be made easy. I wrote to her again some time ago, and begged that if she were too weak to write, she would desire Mrs. Gould or Mrs. Holroyd to give me a line concerning her state of health. To this no answer; I am afraid she is displeased.* By the channel of Mrs. H. you might convey some idea of my real anxiety.

The Saint seems ripe for heaven: could you not learn from Law, what people are about her, and what measures can be taken to have the earliest intelligence of her departure to prevent a Will being secreted, &c.? Yet I am her heir-at-law.

*Now for the disposal of the money: I approve of the £8000 mortgage on Buriton; and honour your prudence in not showing them, by the comparison of the rent and interest, how foolish it is to purchase land.* If you can obtain from Lord S[tawell] the four and a half, tant mieux. In case you cannot, I will suggest an odd but I think a rational scheme. Let four and a half, or rather five per cent. be stipulated in the mortgage deed, with a proviso in a separate act that, as long as the interest shall be paid on or before the day appointed, I will be satisfied with four per cent. As long as Lord S. is punctual (and this will be a stimulus) he will pay no more; and should I ever be forced by his neglect to transfer the mortgage, which will, I suppose, be in my power, I shall easily find a substitute at the advanced interest. For how many years do I lend? Do I reserve a right of putting in my own receiver? Six thousand more will be vested in the three per cents, and if Mrs. G. chuses them, that sum will not be too large a basis for her jointure of £200 a year. The additional hundred which I pay her is a separate account. The remainder, between two and three thousand, may be trusted to private security.

Did you wish for the whole, or part, or more? it is perfectly at your service; but as you are indifferent, I write to you in the third person.

"I have some knowledge of the Lord Sheffield whom you mention, and though he is poor, I believe him to be honest, and I should therefore prefer his four and a half regularly paid at Gosling's, without trouble or application, to a more doubtful five per cent. which might perhaps be found on bond security."

But I had rather wait some weeks before I absolutely determine, as *there is a chance of my drawing the greatest part of the sum into this country, for an arrangement which you yourself must approve, but which I have not time to explain at present. For the sake of dispatching, by this evening's post, an answer to your letter which arrived this morning, I confine myself to the needful, but in the course of a few days I will dictate to Severy a more familiar Epistle. I embrace, &c. Adieu. Ever yours.*

543.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, July 14, 1789.

DEATH OF DEYVERDUN.

*Poor Deyverdun is no more: He expired Saturday the 4th instant: and in his unfortunate situation, death could only be viewed by himself, and his friend, in the light of a consummation devoutly to be wished for. Since September he has had a dozen Apoplectic strokes, more or less violent: in the intervals between them his strength gradually decayed; every principle of life was exhausted; and had he continued to drag a miserable existence, he must probably have survived the loss of his faculties. Of all misfortunes this was what he himself most apprehended: but his reason was clear and calm to the last; he beheld his approaching dissolution with the firmness of a philosopher. I fancied that time and reflection had prepared me for the event; but the habits of three-and-thirty years' friendship are not so easily broken. The first days, and more especially the first nights, were indeed painful. Last Wednesday and Saturday it would not have been in my power to write. I must now recollect myself, since it is necessary for me not only to impart the news, but to ask your opinion on a very serious and doubtful question, which must be decided without loss of time. I shall state the facts, but as I am on the spot and as new lights may occur, I do not promise implicit obedience.

Had my poor friend died without a Will, a female first cousin settled somewhere in the north of Germany, and whom I believe he had never seen, would have been his heir at law. In the next degree he had several cousins; and one of these, an old companion, by name Mr. de Montagny, he has chosen for his heir. As this house and garden was the best and clearest part of poor Deyverdun's fortune; as there is an heavy duty or fine (what they call Lods) on every change of property out of the legal descent; as Montagny has a small estate and a large family, it was necessary to make some provision in his favour. The will therefore leaves me the option of enjoying this place during my life, on paying the sum of £250 (I reckon in English money) at present, and an annual rent of £30; or else of purchasing the house and garden for a sum which, including the duty, will amount to £2500. If I value the rent of £30 at twelve years' purchase, I may acquire my enjoyment for life at about the rate of £600; and the remaining £1900 will be the difference between that tenure and absolute perpetual property. As you have never accused me of too ardent a zeal for the interest of posterity, you will easily guess which scale at first preponderated. I deeply felt the advantage of acquiring, for the smaller sum, every possible enjoyment, as long as I myself should be capable of enjoying: I rejected, with scorn, the idea of giving £1900 for ideal posthumous property; and I deemed it of little moment whose name, after my death, should be inscribed on my house and garden at Lausanne. How often did I repeat to myself the philosophical lines of Pope, which seem to determine the question:

 
Pray Heaven, cries Swift, it last as you go on;
I wish to God this house had been your own.
Pity to build without or son or wife:
Why, you'll enjoy it only all your life.
Well, if the use be mine, does it concern one,
Whether the name belong to Pope or Vernon?
 

In this state of self-satisfaction I was not much disturbed by the unanimous advice of all my real or nominal friends, who exhort me to prefer the right of purchase: among such friends, some are careless and some are ignorant; and the judgment of those, who are able and willing to form an opinion, is often byassed by some selfish or social affection, by some visible or invisible interest. But my own reflections have gradually and forcibly driven me from my first propensity; and those reflections I will now proceed to enumerate:

1. I can make this purchase with ease and prudence. As I have had the pleasure of not hearing from you very lately, I flatter myself that you advance on a carpet-road, and that almost by the receipt of this letter (July the 31st) the acres of Buriton will be transmuted into Sixteen thousand pounds: If the payment be not absolutely compleated by that day, Sainsbury will not scruple, I suppose, depositing the £2500 at Gosling's, to meet my draught. Should he hesitate, I can desire Darrel to sell off quantum sufficit of my short annuities. As soon as the new settlement of my affairs is made, I shall be able, after deducting this sum, to square my expence to my income.* The decay of the Belvidere¹³³ must place me in easy, and the bounty of the Cliffe¹³⁴ may establish me in affluent circumstance. If this Lausanne purchase should seem a violent measure, at the worst I can make Cadell repay me the money in three or four years. I am revolving the means. I am beginning to be a rich man.

*2. On mature consideration, I am perhaps less selfish or less philosophical than I appear at first sight: Indeed, were I not so, it would now be in my power to turn my fortune into life-annuities, and let the Devil take the hindmost. I feel, (perhaps it is foolish,) but I feel that this little paradise will please me still more when it is absolutely my own; and that I shall be encouraged in every improvement of use or beauty, by the prospect that, after my departure, it will be enjoyed by some person of my own choice. I sometimes reflect with pleasure that my writings will survive me: and that idea is at least as vain and chimerical.

"FIERCE AND ERECT, A FREE MASTER."

3. The heir, Mr. de Montagny, is an old acquaintance* of mine. I believe him to be a man of honour: but I know him to be a man of a passionate quarrelsome disputatious temper. *My situation of a life-holder is rather new and singular in this country: the laws have not provided for many nice cases which may arise between the Landlord and tenant: some I can foresee, others have been suggested, many more I might feel when it would be too late. His right of property might plague and confine me: he might forbid my lending to a friend, inspect my conduct, check my improvements, call for securities, repairs, &c. But if I purchase, I walk on my own terrace, fierce and erect, the free master of one of the most delicious spots on the Globe.*

4. You will perhaps think £2500 a very smart price for a moderate house and three or four acres of land (I fancy that is about the measure). You will be much more surprized to hear that poor Deyverdun has valued it in my favour at least £1000 below the real value and market price. Of this I must inform myself more correctly, but I am much inclined to believe it, from the general opinion, from the comparison of other sales and purchases, from the peculiar merits of the situation, and from the scarcity of ground. If it were divided into three houses and gardens and sold to builders, I know not what it would produce.

*Should I ever migrate homewards, (You stare, but such an event is less improbable than I could have thought it two years ago,) this place would be disputed by strangers and natives, and the difference would perhaps clear the expences of my removal.

Weigh these reasons, and send me without delay a rational, explicit opinion, to which I shall pay such regard as the nature of circumstances will allow. But, alas! when all is determined, I shall possess this house, by whatsoever tenure, without friendship or domestic society. I did not imagine, six years ago, that a plan of life so congenial to my wishes, would so speedily vanish. I cannot write upon any other subject. Adieu, yours ever.*

544.
To Lord Sheffield

July 22nd, 1789.

Am I not an exact man! The power is executed, attested, and dispatched the same day (July 22) on which it was received. The appearance of liberality confirms my belief that we are transacting with a fair willing purchaser, and inclines me to hope that the small defects of deeds will be supplied or excused. Surely a great part of our strict formalities is calculated for the emolument of the lawyers rather than the security of the parties. In this simple country we are far less rigid, and a quiet possession of some years (all mortgages are registered) is admitted as a sufficient title. But at all events, as this letter will not reach you before the third or fourth of next month, I see that the day of payment will be postponed beyond the 31st of July. Before this time you will have received, weighed and answered my important missive of the 15th. I am still in a state of doubt and suspense from which your opinion may possibly relieve me, but I must know whether, in case of farther delay, Sainsbury will advance the £2500, or rather £2800, and whether I may draw on the Goslings, from whom I must never expect any favour.

You say nothing of the Belvidere. Have you her legal acquiescence? What security has she chosen? I think she cannot last very long, but I should be hurt if her last days were embittered by any fears or scruples. As to the money destined for the funds you had better consult with David. He is friendly and knowing.

I embrace my lady, but no longer dare talk of writing to her. Maria must now be in all the glories of Lewes races. At Severy's we often talk of the famille. I rejoyce in the Douglas match: it is just such a wife as I should chuse,¹³⁵ but I hope she will still live with her father. – Is your picture on the road? Mine shall set out whenever you please. Are you not amazed at the French revolution? They have the power, will they have the moderation to establish a good constitution? Adieu.

Ever yours,

E. G.

545.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, July 25th, 1789.

DEFECTIVE TITLE TO BERITON.

*After receiving and dispatching the power of attorney, last Wednesday, I opened, with some palpitation, the unexpected missive which arrived this morning. The perusal of the contents spoiled my breakfast: they are disagreeable in themselves, alarming in their consequences, and peculiarly unpleasant at the present moment, when I hoped to have formed and secured the arrangements of my future life. I do not perfectly understand what are these deeds which are so inflexibly required; the wills and marriage-settlements I have sufficiently answered. But your arguments do not convince Sainsbury, and I have very little hope from the Lenborough search. What will be the event? If his objections are only the result of legal scrupulosity, surely they might be removed, and every chink might be filled, by a general bond of indemnity, in which I boldly ask you to joyn, as it will be a substantial important act of friendship, without any possible risk to yourself or your successors. Should he still remain obdurate, I must believe what I already suspect, that Lord Stawell repents of his purchase, and wishes to elude the conclusion. Our case would be then hopeless, Ibi omnis effusus labor, and the Estate would be returned on our hands with the taint of a bad title. The refusal of mortgage does not please me; but surely our offer shows some confidence in the goodness of my title. If he will not take £8000 at four per cent. we must look out elsewhere; new doubts and delays will arise, and I am persuaded that you will not place an implicit confidence in Woodcock or any other Attorney. I know not as yet your opinion about my Lausanne purchase.

If you are against it, the present posture of affairs gives you great advantage, &c., &c.* The purchase money of Buriton will not be paid in time. Sainsbury, if false, will not advance a shilling, and with the prospect of living or rather starving on a landed estate, I cannot afford to sell out £2500 of my short annuities. For my own part I hang in suspense, but if the money could be easily found I rather incline to the property as simple and beneficial.

I am ignorant of your picture: mine shall depart by the first proper occasion: but should not some precautions be taken with regard to duties? the importation of foreign pictures is heavily taxed, but a work of Sir Joshua's may surely return home.

*The Severys are all well; an uncommon circumstance for the four persons of the family at once. They are now at Mex (pronounce May), a country-house six miles from hence, which I visit to-morrow for two or three days: they often come to town, and we shall contrive to pass a part of the Autumn together at Rolle. I want to change the scene; and beautiful as the garden and prospect must appear to every eye, I feel that the state of my own mind casts a gloom over them; every spot, every walk, every bench, recalls the memory of those hours, of those conversations, which will return no more. But I tear myself from the subject. I could not help writing to-day, though I do not find I have said any thing very material. As you must be conscious that you have agitated me, you will not postpone any agreeable, or even decisive intelligence. I almost hesitate, whether I shall not run over to England, to consult with you on the spot, and to fly from poor Deyverdun's shade, which meets me at every turn. I did not expect to have felt it so sharply. But six hundred miles! why are we so far off?

Once more, what is the difficulty of the title? Will men of sense, in a sensible Country, never get rid of the tyranny of lawyers? more oppressive and ridiculous than even the old yoke of the Clergy. Is not a term of seventy or eighty years, near twenty in my own person, sufficient to prove our legal possession? Will not the record of fines and recoveries attest that I am free from any bar of entails and settlements? Consult some Sage of the Law, whether their present demand be necessary and legal. If our ground be firm, force them to execute the agreement or forfeit the deposit. But if, as I much fear, they have a right, and a wish, to elude the consummation, would it not be better to release them at once, than to be hung up five years, as in the case of Lovegrove, which cost me in the end four or five thousand pounds? You are bold, you are wise; consult, resolve, act.

In my penultimate letter I dropped a strange hint, that a migration homeward was not impossible. I know not what to say; my mind is all afloat; yet you will not reproach me with caprice or inconstancy. How many years did you damn my scheme of retiring to Lausanne! I executed that plan; I found as much happiness as is compatible with human nature, and during four years (1783-1787) I never breathed a sigh of repentance. On my return from England the scene was changed: I found only a faint semblance of Deyverdun, and that semblance was each day fading from my sight. I have passed an anxious year, but my anxiety is now at an end, and the prospect before me is a melancholy solitude. I am still deeply rooted in this country; the possession of this paradise, the friendship of the Severys, a mode of society suited to my taste, and the enormous trouble and expence of a migration. Yet in England (when the present clouds are dispelled) I could form a very comfortable establishment in London, or rather at Bath; and I have a very noble country-seat about ten miles from East Grinstead in Sussex.¹³⁶ That spot is dearer to me than the rest of the three kingdoms; and I have sometimes wondered how two men, so opposite in their tempers and pursuits, should have imbibed so long and lively a propensity for each other.

IDEA OF ADOPTING CHARLOTTE PORTEN.

Sir Stanier Porten¹³⁷ is just dead. He has left his widow with a small pension, and two children, my nearest relations: the eldest, Charlotte, is about Louisa's age, and one of the most amiable, sensible young creatures I ever saw. I have conceived a romantic idea of educating and adopting her; as we descend into the vale of years, our infirmities require some domestic female society: Charlotte would be the comfort of my age, and I could reward her care and tenderness with a decent fortune. A thousand difficulties oppose the execution of this plan, which I have never opened but to you; yet it would be less impracticable in England than in Switzerland. Adieu. I am wounded, pour some oil into my wounds: Yet I am less unhappy since I have thrown my mind upon paper. Adieu, ever yours.*

546.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, Sept. 9, 1789.

*Within an hour after the reception of your last, I drew my pen for the purpose of a reply, and my exordium ran in the following words: "I find by experience, that it is much more rational, as well as easy, to answer a letter of real business by the return of the post." This important truth is again verified by my own example. After writing three pages I was called away by a very rational motive, and the post departed before I could return to the conclusion. A second delay was coloured by some decent pretence: three weeks have slipped away, and I now force myself on a task, which I should have dispatched without an effort on the first summons. My only excuse is, that I had little to write about English business, and that I could write nothing definitive about my Swiss affairs. And first, as Aristotle says, of the first,

1. I was indeed in low spirits when I sent what you so justly style my dismal letter; but I do assure you, that my own feelings contributed much more to sink me, than any events or terrors relative to the sale of Buriton. But I again hope and trust, from your consolatory epistle, that* the purchasers are willing and honest, that the deeds have been produced or excused, and that on or before the reception of this despatch (alas, it will be the 23rd perhaps of September) the money has been paid. In all this I must be passive, but with regard to Mrs. Gibbon's, before it is again vested, I am sure she will be satisfied with your security, as mine on the stock which I already hold would require new powers of Attorney, and must be productive of fresh delay. But it is a whimsical circumstance in my fate, that I happen to receive the largest sum which can ever fall to my lot at the time, when money is the most plenty and consequently bears the lowest value, when good mortgages are so difficult to be found, and when the funds scarcely yield four per cent. interest. I wish Lord Stawell would take the £8000 on Buriton even at four per cent., perhaps his proud stomach may be come down. Should he still disdain it, I listen with pleasure and gratitude to the proposal of your Yorkshire mortgage on the same terms, though in general it is more advisable for friends to abstain from any pecuniary concerns with each other. If you no longer adhere to that idea, some sound good mortgage, if possible in a register county, must be found, and I would even stretch the loan to £10,000, in which case my property would be nearly divided between landed and monied security without reckoning my copper share or my poor annuity in the French funds. In the meanwhile, that the portion destined to the mortgage may not lye dead, I suppose with you that there is nothing more commodious than India-bonds. Will you consult Darrel?

LIFE-INTEREST IN DEYVERDUN'S HOUSE.

*2. My Swiss transaction has suffered a great alteration. I shall not become the proprietor of my house and garden at Lausanne, and I relinquish the fantom with more regret than you could easily imagine. But I have been determined by a difficulty, which at first appeared of little moment, but which has gradually swelled to an alarming magnitude. There is a law in this country, as well as in some provinces of France, which is styled "le droit de retrait, le retrait lignager" (Lord Loughborough must have heard of it), by which the relations of the deceased are entitled to redeem an house or estate at the price for which it has been sold; and as the sum fixed by poor Deyverdun is much below its known value, a crowd of competitors are beginning to start. The best opinions (for they are divided) are in my favour, that I am not subject to "the droit de retrait," since I take not as a purchaser, but as a legatee. But the words of the Will are somewhat ambiguous, the event of law is always uncertain, the administration of justice at Berne (the last appeal) depends too much on favour and intrigue; and it is very doubtful whether I could revert to the life-holding, after having chosen and lost the property. These considerations engaged me to open a negotiation with Mr. de Montagny, through the medium of my friend the Judge; and as he most ardently wishes to keep the house, he consented, though with some reluctance, to my proposals. Yesterday he signed a covenant in the most regular and binding form, by which he allows my power of transferring my interest, interprets in the most ample sense my right of making alterations, and expressly renounces all claim, as landlord, of visiting or inspecting the premisses. I have promised to lend him 12,000 Livres, (between seven and eight hundred pounds), secured on the house and land. The mortgage is four times its value; the interest at four per cent. will be annually discharged by the rent of thirty guineas, and I shall have an additional hold on his good behaviour. So that I am now tranquil on that score for the remainder of my days. I hope that time will gradually reconcile me to the place which I have inhabited with my poor friend; for in spite of the cream of London, I am still persuaded that no other residence is so well adapted to my taste and habits of studious and social life.

Far from delighting in the whirl of a Metropolis, my only complaint against Lausanne is the great number of strangers, always of English, and now of French, by whom we are infested in summer. Yet we have escaped the damned great ones, the Count d'Artois,¹³⁸ the Polignacs,¹³⁹ &c. who slip by us to Turin. What a scene is France! While the assembly is voting abstract propositions, Paris is an independent Republic; the provinces have neither authority nor freedom, and poor Necker¹⁴⁰ declares that credit is no more, and that the people refuse to pay taxes. Yet I think you must be seduced by the abolition of tythes. If Eden goes to Paris you may have some curious confidential information. Give me some account of Mr. and Mrs. Douglas; do they live with Lord North? I hope they do. When will parliament be dissolved? Are you still Coventry mad? I embrace My Lady, the stately Maria, and the smiling Louisa. Alas! Alas! you will never come to Switzerland. Adieu, ever yours.*

547.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, Sept. 25th, 1789.

 
*Alas! what perils do environ
The man who meddles with cold iron.
 

Alas! what delays and difficulties do attend the man who meddles with legal and landed business! yet if it be only to disappoint your expectation, I am not so very nervous at this new provoking obstacle. I had totally forgotten the deed in question, which was contrived by the two trustees to tye his hands and regulate the disorder of his affairs (in the last year of my father's life); and which might have been so easily cancelled by Sir Stanier, who had not the smallest interest in it, either for himself or his family. The amicable suit which is now become necessary must, I think, be short and unambiguous, yet I cannot help dreading the crotchets that lurk under the Chancellor's great wig; and, at all events, I foresee some additional delay and expence. The golden pill of the £2800 has soothed my discontent; and if it be safely lodged with the Goslings, I agree with you in considering it as an unequivocal pledge of a fair and willing purchaser. It is, indeed, chiefly in that light that I now rejoyce in so large a deposit, which is no longer necessary in its full extent. You are apprized by my last letter that I have reduced myself to the life enjoyment of the house and garden, and, in spite of my feelings, I am every day more convinced that I have chosen the safer side. I believe my cause to have been good, but it was doubtful: law in this country is not so expensive as in England, but it is more troublesome. I must have gone to Bern, have solicited my Judges in person – a vile custom! the event was doubtful, and during at least two years, I should have been in a state of suspense and anxiety: till the conclusion of which it would have been madness to have attempted any alteration or improvement.

According to my present arrangement I shall want no more than eleven hundred pounds of the £2000, and I suppose you will direct Gosling to lay out the remainder in East India bonds, that it may not lye quite dead, while I am accountable to Sainsbury for the interest.* I presume that I am entitled till the consummation to the rents of Buriton: a little drop of honey is collected from Lady-day to Michaelmas, and Andrews is I hope instructed to squeeze the bag without delay or mercy: the Tenant deserves none.

THE AUTHORITY OF BLACKSTONE.

*The elderly Lady in a male habit, who informed me that Yorkshire is a register County, is a certain Judge, one Sir William Blackstone, whose name you may possibly have heard. After stating the danger of purchasers and creditors, with regard to the title of estates on which they lay out or lend their money, he thus continues: "In Scotland every act and event regarding the transmission of property is regularly entered on record; And some of our own provincial divisions, particularly the extended county of York and the populous county of Middlesex, have prevailed with the Legislature to erect such registers in their respective districts." (Blackstone's Commentaries, Vol. ii. p. 343, Edition of 1774, in quarto.) If I am mistaken, it is in pretty good company; but I suspect that we are all right, and that the register is confined to one or two Ridings. As we have, alas! two or three months before us, I should hope that your prudent sagacity will discover some sound land, in case you should not have time to arrange your own Mortgage.

I now write in a hurry, as I am just setting out for Rolle, where I shall be settled with cook and servants in a pleasant apartment till the middle of November. The Severys have a house there, where they pass the Autumn. I am not sorry to vary the scene for a few weeks, and I wish to be absent while some alterations are making in my house at Lausanne. I wish the change of air may be of service to Severy the father, but we do not at all like his present state of health. How compleatly, alas, how compleatly! could I now lodge you: but your firm resolve of making me a visit seems to have vanished like a dream. Next summer you will not find five hundred pounds for a rational friendly expedition: and should parliament be dissolved, you will perhaps find five thousand for ****. I cannot think of it with patience. Pray take serious strenuous measures for sending me a pipe of excellent Madeira in cask, with some dozens of Malmsey Madeira. It should be consigned to Messrs. Romberg, Voituriers, at Ostend, and I must have timely notice of its march. We have so much to say about France, that I suppose we shall never say anything. That country is now in a state of dissolution. Adieu.*

548.
To his Stepmother

Lausanne, December 5th, 1789.

My Dear Madam,

I need not repeat what we have both so often felt and acknowledged, that between us silence is never the effect of coldness or forgetfulness, yet when I recollect that your second letter is still unanswered, a conscious blush rises to my cheek. Our mutual friendship we have no occasion to express, of our health and situation we may have frequent accounts by the channel of Lord Sheffield and Mrs. Holroyd; mere topics of Epistolary conversation do not readily occur between distant friends, but you ask me some questions of an interesting nature and your kind curiosity it is incumbent on me to satisfy.

The disposal of Buriton I think you cannot disapprove. A distant landed estate is the worst kind of property, and you will not be surprized to hear that after the payment of every expence and every deduction, the remainder of the clear income was little more than sufficient for the annual supply, which I hope will be long, very long, offered to the Belvidere at Bath. The neglect, I will not give it an harsher name, of Hugonin cost me last year above seven hundred pounds; yet after his death, where could I have found a more creditable agent? At sixteen thousand pounds Lord Sheffield does not think Buriton ill sold, especially as four or five thousand more must be added which I had already received from the sale of Horn and Harris's farms. Some forms of law have delayed the final conclusion, but I expect to hear every post of the payment of the money, and you will rejoyce to hear, what I assure on my honour is true, that every shilling is my own, and that prudence, without any pressure of distress or debt, is the sole motive of my conduct. The entire sum I mean to divide between the stocks and a good mortgage, that at all events I may have a sound leg to stand upon. I hope you are satisfied with the arrangement of your jointure: Lord Sheffield cannot forget the burthen of every one of my letters, "Unless Mrs. G. be safe and easy, I cannot be so."

IRREPARABLE LOSS OF A FRIEND.

When I had the pleasure of seeing you at Bath two years ago, you may remember the melancholy account which I gave you of poor Deyverdun. On my return to Lausanne I found him much altered for the worse; he was attacked by a succession of Apoplectic fits, and after a general decay, he died last July, when his life could be no longer desirable for himself or his friends. The loss of a friend of five and thirty years is irreparable, and each day I feel the comfortless solitude to which I am reduced. By his will he designed that I should possess the delightful house and garden which I inhabit: and which have not, I believe, their equal in Europe; by a subsequent arrangement with his heir, in which both find their advantage, I have secured the free and indisputable enjoyment for my life, and have already made some agreable and useful alterations. I still like the people and the country, and here I shall probably spend the latter season of life, with the resolution however of visiting England every three or four years. I have often regretted that your imperfect knowledge of the French language never allowed me to seduce you to this place. I am sure you would have pleased and been pleased in the circle of my familiar acquaintance.

My health was never so good as it is at present, and since my unseasonable attack at Bath I have not felt the slightest return of the gout. You may possibly hear that Mr. Gibbon has undertaken some new history; be persuaded, if I know his intentions, that after six weighty quartos, he now reads and writes for his own amusement, though I will not answer for what those amusements may one day produce. You may likewise hear of tumults and rebellions in Switzerland. Be persuaded, that the popular madness of France and Flanders has not reached these tranquil regions, and that the Swiss have sense enough to feel and maintain their own happiness, which is endeared to them by the disorders of the neighbouring countries.

Adieu, Dear Madam; I grieve for you and for myself that we are now entering into the cold and dreary season, but I sincerely hope that you will find strength and spirits to lay this and many other winters at your feet.

Ever yours,

E. G.

549.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, December 15th, 1789.

*You have often reason to accuse my strange silence and neglect in the most important of my own affairs; for I will presume to assert, that in a business of yours of equal consequence, you should not find me cold or careless. But on the present occasion my silence is, perhaps, the highest compliment I ever paid you. You remember the answer of Philip of Macedon: "Philip may sleep, while he knows that Parmenio is awake." I expected, and, to say the truth, I wished that my Parmenio would have decided and acted, without expecting my dilatory answer, and in his decision I should have acquiesced with implicit confidence. But since you will have my opinion, let us consider the present state of my affairs. In the course of my life I have often known, and sometimes felt, the difficulty of getting money, but I now find myself involved in a much more singular distress, the difficulty of placing it, and if it continues much longer, I shall almost wish for my land again.

I perfectly agree with you, that it is bad management to purchase in the funds when they do not yield four per cent.,* and I incline every day more and more to the encrease of the mortgage. I am much mistaken if in my last letter I did not extend the sum as £10,000 pounds, which would make, as I remember to have said, about an equal partition of my property. Can that sum be called, even in your wealthy island, so very inconsiderable? I would even give somewhat larger latitude (even as far as £12,000 if I preserve a right of calling in a fourth or a moiety on reasonable notice). Is it possible that in seven or eight months no good and clear security can be found, especially if I am forced to be content with the scanty interest of four per cent.? Yet I approve your diffidence and caution: in the concerns of our friends even cowardice is a virtue. The doubtful title of a mortgage might distress and perplex me for the remainder of my life, and you would not easily forgive yourself for having been the innocent author of my calamities. Rather than expose myself to such a risk, I would try whether some great banker would not be disposed to give low interest and firm security for my money till it should be called for, or at all events I would deposit it in the Bank for six months or a year, and live on the principal till you could find an unquestionable opportunity of placing it on landed property. *Some of this money I can place safely and advantageously by means of my banker here; and I shall possess, what I have always desired, a command of cash, which I cannot abuse to my prejudice, since I have it in my power to supply by my pen any extraordinary or fanciful indulgence of expence. And so much – much, indeed – for pecuniary matters.

GLORIOUS OPPORTUNITY OF FRANCE.

What would you have me say of the affairs of France? we are too near, and too remote, to form an accurate judgment of that wonderful scene. The abuses of the court and government called aloud for reformation; and it has happened, as it will always happen, that an innocent, well-disposed prince has paid the forfeits of the sins of his predecessors; of the ambition of the Lewis XIV., of the profusion of Lewis XV. The French nation had a glorious opportunity, but they have abused, and may lose their advantages. If they had been content with a liberal translation of our system, if they had respected the prerogatives of the crown, and the privileges of the Nobles, they might have raised a solid fabric, on the only true foundation, the natural Aristocracy of a great Country. How different is the prospect! Their King brought a captive to Paris, after his palace had been stained with the blood of his guards; the Nobles in exile; the Clergy plundered in a way which strikes at the root of all property; the capital an independent Republic; the union of the provinces dissolved; the flames of discord kindled by the worst of men; (in that light I consider Mirabeau;) and the honestest of the Assembly a set of wild Visionaries, (like our Dr. Price,¹⁴¹) who gravely debate, and dream about the establishment of a pure and perfect democracy of five-and-twenty millions, the virtues of the golden age, and the primitive rights and equality of mankind, which would lead, in fair reasoning, to an equal partition of lands and money. How many years must elapse before France can recover any vigour, or resume her station among the powers of Europe! As yet, there is no symptom of a great man, a Richelieu or a Cromwell, arising, either to restore the Monarchy, or to lead the Commonwealth. The weight of Paris, more deeply engaged in the funds than all the rest of the Kingdom, will long delay a bankrupcy; and if it should happen, it will be, both in the cause and effect, a measure of weakness, rather than of strength.

FRENCH EXILES AT LAUSANNE.

You send me to Chamberry, to see a prince and an Archbishop. Alas! we have exiles enough here, with the Marshal de Castries¹⁴² and the Duke de Guignes¹⁴³ at their head: and this inundation of strangers, which used to be confined to the summer, will now stagnate all the winter. The only ones whom I have seen with pleasure are M. Mounier,¹⁴⁴ the late president of the National Assembly, and the Count de Lally;¹⁴⁵ they have both dined with me. Mounier, who is a serious dry politician, is returned to Dauphiné. Lally is an amiable man of the World, and a poet: he passes the winter here with his female friend the Princess d'Hénin.¹⁴⁶ You know how much I prefer a quiet select society to a crowd of names and titles, and that I always seek conversation with a view to amusement rather than information. What happy countries are England and Switzerland, if they know and preserve their happiness.

I have a thousand things to say of My Lady, Maria, and Louisa, but I can add only a short postscript about the Madeira and picture.

1. Good Madeira is now become essential to my health and reputation. May your hogshead prove as good as the last; may it not be intercepted by the rebels or the Austrians. What a scene again in that country! Happy England! happy Switzerland!* I again repeat I must have early notice of my wine's approach, that I may send a permit to meet it at Basil.

2. To whom did you entrust the picture¹⁴⁷ and Rennel's¹⁴⁸ maps? I have not heard of either. Was it to Elmsley? I have expected these many months a box of books, &c., which he announced. Will you not clear up the point? My picture expects a safe occasion. Adieu.

550.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, January 27th, 1790.

*Your two last epistles, of the 7th and 11th instant, were somewhat delayed on the road; they arrived within two days of each other, the last this morning, (the 27th); so that I answer by the first, or at least by the second post. Upon the whole, your French method, though sometimes more rapid, appears to me less sure and steady than the old German highway.*

I will not deny (for it was probably too visible) that your proposal, which arose from the kindest motives, of your Yorkshire mortgage embarrassed me from the beginning, and whatever faint signs of acquiescence I may have given, they proceeded from the apprehension of wounding your honourable feelings by anything that might bear the appearance of doubt and distrust. I could not reconcile the two characters of debtor and friend, and I was shocked by the idea, however distant or unlikely, that in a serious concern our interests might possibly become opposite to each other. Your first letter relieved me from that weight, and I viewed with much less horror the chance of leaving the purchase money for some time idle and unproductive in the bank: yet I could not entirely subscribe to your charge that I had changed my principles. Eight thousand pounds had been always designed for the mortgage: you object (to my great surprize) that good landed security cannot easily be found for so small a sum; I agree to enlarge it; where is the change or contradiction? I confess however that the very high price of the Stocks has rendered me less eager for an investment which at present will not even produce the four per cent., and which rather affords the danger of a fall than the hopes of a rise. You are likewise inaccurate when you accuse me of having already drawn near £2000 of the purchase money.

But enough of these altercations. *A new and brighter prospect seems to be breaking upon us, and few events of that kind have ever given me more pleasure than your successful negotiation and Sainsbury's satisfactory answer. The agreement is, indeed, equally convenient for both parties: no time or expence will be wasted in scrutinizing the title of the estate; the interest will be secured by the clause of five per cent., and I lament with you, that no larger sum than £8000 can be placed on Beriton, without asking (what might be somewhat impudent) a collateral security, &c., &c.* As I do not mean to entrap them, the allowance of a month is perfectly right and in truth immaterial. As the purchase money is by this arrangement very much reduced, they will now pay it, I suppose, whenever you please, and perhaps (you will judge) it may be as well to consummate on Lady Day, that I may be entitled to another half year's rent from the Tenant. The power of calling in the Mortgage, I only meant as a superfluous precaution, but I suppose there will be some restraint on their paying it off whenever they please, perhaps at a time inconvenient to the creditor. After Lord Stawell has paid or secured £10,800 there will still remain (subject to I know not what charges) £5200. While the stocks are so very high as not to yield four per cent., might it not be expedient to trust it in two or three loans in good personal bond security at four and a half? Would not the Goslings for the consideration of the half per cent. bind themselves to answer for the interest and principal. In their business they have always a command of money, and if the security be such as I ought to accept, the risk for themselves must be very inconsiderable. *But I wish you to chuse and execute one or the other of these arrangements with sage discretion and absolute power.

DIRTY LAND AND VILE MONEY.

I shorten my letter, that I may dispatch it by this post. I see the time, and I shall rejoyce to see it at the end of twenty years, when my cares will be at an end, and our friendly pages will be no longer sullied with the repetition of dirty land and vile money; when we may expatiate on the politics of the World and our personal sentiments. Without expecting your answer of business, I mean to write soon in a purer style, and I wish to lay open to my friend the state of my mind, which (exclusive of all worldly concerns) is not perfectly at ease. In the mean while, I must add two or three short articles. 1. I am astonished at Elmsly's silence, and the immobility of your picture. Mine should have departed long since, could I have found a sure opportunity.* It had almost started last week had I not been afraid of rolling it, but I think that a person on whom we may depend will undertake the journey and commission about the middle of next month. 2. I shall expect the Madeira with impatience if it is remarkable. I have not any objection to the two hogsheads, but perhaps one may suffice, as I have a promise from Sir Ralph Payne, with whom you may confabulate on the subject if you excurse to London. 3. Give me some account of the two old Ladies. I no longer write to Cliffe, as I suppose her (perhaps erroneously) incapable of correspondence. I embrace My Lady, &c. When shall I see them at Lausanne or Sheffield Place? the one must take place if the other does not. Adieu.

Yours,

E. G.

P.S. – If you met with another neat, safe, little mortgage of £2000 I have no objection. Since I have again opened my letter, I will ask you how the property of an Ecclesiastical differs from that of a lay Corporation, and whether you think Parliament could legally seize and appropriate the lands of the City of London. If either Corporation was mischievous, Government might indeed extinguish it in time, by prohibiting a supply of new members, and the vacant property would perhaps devolve to the public. No change of events or opinions in France: next month will be critical from the Provincial Assemblies.

551.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, May 15th, 1790.

LEGAL FORMS BENEFIT LAWYERS.

*Since the first origin (ab ovo) of our connection and correspondence, so long an interval of silence has not intervened, as far as I remember, between us.* Yet on the present occasion neither is materially to blame, nor has either been materially injured. My conscience was easy, since my last letter, I felt myself in the proud security of a creditor, and though after a certain space I waited every post for an answer, yet I waited with little impatience and no anxiety, in the firm persuasion that Lady-day would finally settle the whole transaction of the mortgage and the payment. I now find that the delay is involuntary and indefinite, and that it is not so easy to escape even from the amicable grip of the Court of Chancery. Can such superstitious forms be of any use except to the Lawyers? whose bill I much apprehend. Might not such an obsolete deed which I had perfectly forgot, have been thrown into the fire with the consent of all parties? However we must follow the stream, and I trust that neither Sussex nor Africa, nor Reading nor Bristol will relax your diligence in the cause of your friend. In the winding up an arrangement of twenty years, it is vexatious to be stopped by a little knot: but otherwise my nerves are not so much discomposed as you might suspect. As I believe the purchasers to be honest and sincere, the difference is only between the rent and the interest: the tenant deserves no mercy, and I hope your orders are absolute for distraining the next day on failure of payment. I trust that the £8000 mortgage is settled with Sainsbury, nor do I dislike your last resolution of pouring the whole residue into the funds.

*From my silence you conclude that the moral complaint, which I had insinuated in my last, is either insignificant or fanciful. The conclusion is rash. But the complaint in question is of the nature of a slow lingering disease, which is not attended with any immediate danger. As I have not leisure to expatiate, take the idea in three words: "Since the loss of poor Deyverdun, I am alone; and even in paradise, solitude is painful to a social mind. When I was a dozen years younger, I scarcely felt the weight of a single existence amidst the crowds of London, of Parliament, of Clubs; but it will press more heavily upon me in this tranquil land, in the decline of life, and with the encrease of infirmities. Some expedient, even the most desperate, must be embraced, to secure the domestic society of a male or female companion. But I am not in a hurry; there is time for reflection and advice." During this winter such finer feelings have been suspended by the grosser evil of bodily pain. On the ninth of February I was seized by such a fit of the Gout as I had never known, though I must be thankful that its dire effects have been confined to the feet and knees, without ascending to the more noble parts. With some vicissitudes of better and worse, I have groaned between two and three months; the debility has survived the pain, and though now easy, I am carried about in my chair, without any power, and with a very distant chance, of supporting myself, from the extreme weakness and contraction of the joints of my knees. Yet I am happy in a skilful physician, and kind assiduous friend: every evening, during more than three months, has been enlivened (except when I have been forced to refuse them) by some chearful visits, and very often by a chosen party of both sexes. How different is such society from the solitary evenings which I have passed in the tumult of London! It is not worth while fighting about a shadow, but should I ever return to England, Bath, not the Metropolis, would be my last retreat.

Your portrait is at last arrived in perfect condition, and now occupies a conspicuous place over the chimney-glass in my library. It is the object of general admiration; good judges (the few) applaud the work; the name of Reynolds opens the eyes and mouths of the many; and were not I afraid of making you vain, I would inform you that the original is not allowed to be more than five-and-thirty. In spite of private reluctance and public discontent, I have honourably dismissed myself.¹⁴⁹ I shall arrive at Sir Joshua's before the end of the month; he will give me a look, and perhaps a touch; and you will be indebted to the president one guinea for the carriage. Do not be nervous, I am not rolled up; had I been so, you might have gazed on my charms four months ago. I want some account of yourself, of My lady, (shall we never directly correspond?) of Louisa, and of the soft, the stately Maria. How has the latter since her launch supported a quiet Winter in Sussex? I so much rejoice in your divorce from that b – Kitty Coventry,¹⁵⁰ that I care not what marriage you contract. The second City in England would suit your dignity, and the duties of a Bristol Member, which would kill me in the first session, would supply your activity with a constant fund of amusement. But tread softly and surely; the ice is deceitful, the water is deep, and you may be soused over head and ears before you are aware. Why did not you or Elmsly send me the African pamphlet¹⁵¹ by the post? it would not have cost much. You have such a knack of turning a nation, that I am afraid you will triumph (perhaps by the force of argument) over justice and humanity. But do you not expect to work at Beelzebub's sugar plantations in the infernal regions, under the tender government of a negro-driver? I should suppose both My lady and Miss Firth very angry with you.

As to the bill for prints, which has been too long neglected, why will you not exercise the power, which I have never revoked, over all my cash at the Goslings'? I have no further claims either for quarto or octavo copies, but I am persuaded that Cadell's liberality will credit your applications in my name for one of each. The Severy family has passed a very favourable winter; the young man is impatient to hear from a family which he places something above the Holy family: yet he will generously write next week, and send you a drawing of the alterations in the house. Do not raise your ideas; you know I am satisfied with convenience in architecture, and some elegance in furniture. I hear nothing decisive either from Sir Ralph Payne about Madeira, and if I do not receive a supply in the course of the summer, I shall be in great shame and distress. I would write to the Bath Knight if I knew his address. That is serious business, but I admire the coolness with which you ask me to epistolize Reynell and Elmsly, as if a letter were so easy and pleasant a task; it appears less so to me every day.*

552.
Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon

Sheffield Place, 28th July, '90.

LORD SHEFFIELD RETURNED FOR BRISTOL.

I wish I had better paper, but this is good enough for a foreigner. At length I have obtained an attested copy of Hester's Will, but no further letter or information from Mr. Law.

I find the Will was made in November, 1786, and is of considerable length, altho' her nephew Edward Gibbon takes up not much more than two lines of it. The rest says much about the family of Law, and the heirs of the Rev. Wm. Law. It gives the Sussex Estate to Edward Gibbon and his heirs for ever, and one thousand pounds to the said Edward, and one hundred pounds to her niece Lady Eliot, but the chat d'enfer, by a codicil dated 18th February, 1788, when her nephew resided in Downing Street, took the trouble of reducing the thousand pounds to one hundred pounds, to be paid within 12 months after her decease. When there is an opportunity I shall send the composition to you. And now you are once more a landed man. But I wonder I have not had a summons lately to attend Messrs. Sainsbury and Rhodes to conclude the Buriton business. I have furnished them with every paper, &c., they have desired, and I verily believe they are proceeding, yet it seems in a truly Chancery style. They plagued me lately about a deed for which it was necessary to ransack the boxes.

My last letter was from Clifton near Bristol (I believe) after my return from Coventry, and I also believe I therein mentioned Proceedings at Reading, Bristol, and Coventry. I was detained some time among my constituents for the purpose of incorporating a due quantity of Turtle, and on leaving them I subscribed somewhat above £300 to Infirmary, Magdalens, Small Debtors, &c. but that was all my expence at Bristol. I suppose I mentioned in my last that my expences at Coventry did not exceed £150.

Sir Joseph Banks¹⁵² and family have been here several days, and inquired much after you. They are just gone, and Batt is just arrived, and stays till Brighthelmstone Races next week. Lord North and family are at Tunbridge Wells, and will make a visit here as soon as we are settled after Races.

HESTER GIBBON'S WILL.

Perhaps it may be needful to mention to you that the rent of your Newhaven, alias Meeching Farm, is £225. The Manor is considerable, the quit-rents and profits above £40 – the latter uncertain. The deductions on account of Land-tax and Sackville College rent and expenses of collecting quit-rent about £29. I shall not readily approve of your selling it, but if you should be desperately disposed to increase your income, what do you think of taking double or treble the clear rent for your life, for the said Estate? I suppose about £550 per annum, which allows for outgoings, including repairs of sea-walls and every deduction but moderately – they have been of late years somewhat immoderate.

If you do not think of making little ones, it may suit you and it would me, although I am poor, because it would be a very respectable addition to my Sussex Estate. It would give me marshland of which I have none, also the mouth of the River Ouse, &c.: and perhaps a small house on the sea-shore. I do not know that it would be a good bargain for you and your heirs, but I think it would be a good one for the House of Holroyd, except that I should not like to be benefitted by the Devil taking you – yet I do not suspect I should wish it. In case of his taking me or not, you would have a collateral security besides that of the Estate itself. The best argument for your doing it is that I shall with-hold my consent to your selling it. On this subject you will give your mind without ceremony. It will furnish you with subject matter for a letter.

Yours ever,

S.

Remember us to the house of Severy.

553.
To Lord Sheffield

Lausanne, August 7, 1790.

*I answer at once your two letters; and I should probably have taken earlier notice of the first, had I not been in daily expectation of the second. I must begin on the subject of what really interests me the most, your glorious election for Bristol. Most sincerely do I congratulate your exchange of a cursed expensive jilt, who deserted you for a rich Jew, for an honourable connection with a chaste and virtuous matron, who will probably be as constant as she is disinterested. In the whole range of election from Caithness to St. Yves, I much doubt whether there be a single choice so truly honourable to the member and the constituents. The second Commercial city invites, from a distant province, an independent Gentleman, known only by his active spirit, and his writings on the subject of trade; and names him, without intrigue or expence, for her representative: even the voice of party is silenced, While factions strive which shall applaud the most.

You are now sure, for seven years to come, of never wanting food – I mean business; what a crowd of suitors or Complainants will besiege your door! what a load of letters and memorials will be heaped on your table! I much question whether even you will not sometimes exclaim, Ohe! jam satis est! but that is your affair. Of the excursion to Coventry I cannot decide, but I hear it is pretty generally blamed: but, however, I love gratitude to an old friend; and shall not be very angry if you damned them with a farewell to all eternity. But I cannot repress my indignation at the use of those foolish, obsolete, odious words, Whig and Tory. In the American War they might have some meaning; and then your Lordship was a Tory: since the coalition, all general principles have been confounded; and if there ever was an opposition to men, not measures, it is the present. Luckily, both the Leaders are great men; and, whatever happens, the country must fall upon its legs. What a strange mist of peace and war seems to hang over the ocean! We can perceive nothing but secrecy and vigour; but those are excellent qualities to perceive in a Minister. From yourself and politics I now return to my private concerns, which I shall methodically consider under the three great articles of mind, body, and estate.* And first, as Aristotle says, of the first.

COMFORTLESS STATE OF DOMESTIC SOLITUDE.

*1. I am not absolutely displeased at your firing so hastily at the hint, a tremendous hint, in my last letter. But the danger is not so serious or imminent as you seem to suspect; and I give you my word, that, before I take the slightest step which can bind me either in law, conscience, or honour, I will faithfully communicate, and we will freely discuss, the whole state of the business. But at present there is not any thing to communicate or discuss; I do assure you that I have not any particular object in view: I am not in love with any of the Hyænas of Lausanne, though there are some who keep their claws tolerably well pared. Sometimes, in a solitary mood, I have fancied myself married to one or other of those whose society and conversation are the most pleasing to me; but when I have painted in my fancy all the probable consequences of such an union, I have started from my dream, rejoyced in my escape, and ejaculated a thanksgiving that I was still in possession of my natural freedom. Yet I feel, and shall continue to feel, that domestic solitude, however it may be alleviated by the world, by study, and even by friendship, is a comfortless state, which will grow more painful as I descend in the vale of years. At present my situation is very tolerable; and if at dinner-time, or at my return home in the evening, I sometimes sigh for a companion, there are many hours, and many occasions, in which I enjoy the superior blessing of being sole master of my own house. But your plan, though less dangerous, is still more absurd than mine: such a couple as you describe could not be found; and, if found, would not answer my purpose; their rank and position would be awkward and ambiguous to myself and my acquaintance; and the agreement of three persons of three characters would be still more impracticable. My plan of Charlotte Porten is undoubtedly the most desirable; and she might either remain a spinster (the case is not without example,) or marry some Swiss of my choice, who would increase and enliven our society; and both would have the strongest motives for kind and dutiful behaviour. But the mother has been indirectly sounded; and will not hear of such a proposal for some years. On my side, I would not take her, but as a piece of soft wax which I could model to the language and manners of the Country: I must therefore be patient.

2. Young Severy's letter, which may be now in your hands, and which, for these three or four last posts, has furnished my indolence with a new pretence for delay, has already informed you of the means and circumstances of my resurrection. Tedious indeed was my confinement, since I was not able to move from my house or chair, from the ninth of February to the first of July, very nearly five months. The first weeks were accompanied with more pain than I have ever known in the Gout, with anxious days and sleepless nights; and when that pain subsided, it left a weakness in my knees, which seemed to have no end. My confinement was however softened by books, by the possession of every comfort and convenience, by a succession each evening of agreeable company, and by a flow of equal spirits and general good health. During the last weeks I descended to the ground floor, poor Deyverdun's apartment, and constructed a chair like Merlin's, in which I could wheel myself in the house and on the terrace. My patience has been universally admired; yet how many thousands have passed those five months less easily than myself. I remember making a remark perfectly simple, and perfectly true: "At present," I said to Madame de Severy, "I am not positively miserable, and I may reasonably hope a daily or weekly improvement, till sooner or later in the summer I shall recover new limbs, and new pleasures, which I do not now possess: have any of you such a prospect?" The prediction has been accomplished, and I have arrived to my present condition of strength, or rather of feebleness: I now can walk with tolerable ease in my garden and smooth places; but on the rough pavement of the town I use, and perhaps shall use, a sedan chair. The Pyrmont waters have performed wonders; and my physician (not Tissot, but a very sensible man) allows me to hope, that the term of the interval will be in proportion to that of the fit.*

3. And so Aunt Hester is gone to sing Hallelujahs, a glory which she did not seem very impatient to possess. I received the news of this dire event with much philosophic composure: she might have done better, she might have done worse, and I was always prepared for the worst. By this time you have probably a copy of the Will, and will take (as I suppose you are authorized) the proper and necessary steps. I most wish to learn whether she has left me the fee simple, the absolute disposal of her Sussex estate; the power of selling or the necessity of keeping that costly piece of property will make a wonderful difference in the value of her gift. From a motive of curiosity I wish to learn what she has done with her personal fortune; her four copper shares were worth at least five or six thousand pounds. Has she given them to the Laws? If in the bequeathing what was absolutely in her power she has postponed relations for friends, I think her determination both honourable and wise. If in the entailed estate she has preferred a poor though unbelieving nephew to a rich niece, she was likewise right. I speak with the impartiality of a third person.

And now let me seriously address you on the most important of my temporal concerns, Buriton. You will do me the justice to allow that I have not been either impatient or nervous: but the Estate was sold in April, 1789: this is now August, 1790, and the money is not yet paid, nor the purchase concluded. Is Lord Stawell perfidious, is he poor, is he unwilling? is the delay only produced by the ingenious forms of the lawyers? How many terms do they require for an amicable suit in Chancery? In the meanwhile I lose interest, the estate must suffer by neglect, and what will be the event? Exert your vigour, argue, persuade, consummate! On the 10th of November next my father will have been dead twenty years: let it not be said that with the counsel and aid of such a friend, I have not been able to settle my affairs in twenty years. What can I say more? the conclusion an Indian Epistle.

Yes, I have more or rather nothing more to say about the disposal of the money. I hope the Buriton mortgage for £8000 still holds: nothing else can be so easy or good. The remainder you will throw into the funds, and I wish we could take advantage of the present fall, but if a sure bond or neat mortgage from £2500 to £4000 should offer itself, I should be very well pleased.

SWISS SENSIBLE OF THEIR HAPPINESS.

*Have you read in the English papers, that the Government of Bern is overturned, and that we are divided into three Democratical leagues; true as the Gospel: true as what I have read in the French papers, that the English have cut off Pitt's head, and abolished the house of Lords. The people of this country are happy; and in spite of some malcontents, and more foreign Emissaries, they are sensible of their happiness.*

My Madeira is almost exhausted, and I must receive before the end of the Autumn a stout cargo of wholesome exquisite wine with proper previous notice which may prevent all accidents at the Custom House. Your Bristol connection must give you great advantages, but (if I could procure his direction) I would not neglect Sir Ralph Payne's favours.

*Inform My lady, that I am indignant at a false and heretical assertion in her last letter to Severy, "that friends at a distance cannot love each other, if they do not write." I love her better than any woman in the world; indeed I do; and yet I do not write. And she herself – but I am calm. We have now nearly one hundred French exiles, some of them worth being acquainted with; particularly a Count de Schomberg, who is become almost my friend; he is a man of the World, of letters, and of sufficient age, since in 1753 he succeeded to Marshal Saxe's regiment of Dragoons. As to the rest, I entertain them, and they flatter me: but I wish we were reduced to our Lausanne society. Poor France! the state is dissolved, the nation is mad! Adieu.*

554.
Lord Sheffield to Edward Gibbon

Sheffield Place, 21st Sept., '90.

I approve your observations on the Bristol Election, and I do not believe you heard the Excursion to Coventry pretty generally blamed. I knew nothing of an Opposition till two days after the Poll began. A man who had been useful to me in the same line being concerned, I had no difficulty nor hesitation as to what was to be done.

On the subject of Buriton I acknowledge you have been as Philosophic as could be expected. There seems to be something supernatural attending all your worldly concerns. In answer to a repeated remonstrance to Mr. Sainsbury, the last information is from Mr. Rhodes the Attorney, dated Sept. 4th instant. He says (Mrs. Sainsbury desired him to write, Mr. Sainsbury being in Ireland), "The matter in Chancery remains unfinished by the Master. When we obtained the Deed and laid it before him, he said that he had then so many other reports to prepare that he was apprehensive that he should not be able to prepare ours. We said and did everything in our power to induce him to do it, but we could not prevail. He has promised to let us have it before the ensuing Term, which will begin on the 6th of November next, and the other business cannot be completed before the first week in the term." It is difficult to believe these delays are intentional, as a considerable sum remains dormant as to the Land in the hands of the Auctioneers, Messrs. Skinners, and as so great a proportion of the purchase money is to remain in Mortgage. The only thing I can firmly object to, is an over nicety on the part of Sainsbury or his Lawyers as to the title, but I shall go to London as soon as Term begins and reiterate every measure that can speedily bring matters to a conclusion. In the meantime I shall be very troublesome until I am assured every paper is ready for signature. As to the Estate it does not suffer by neglect; a new Tenant recommended by Sainsbury has taken it from the poor flimsy creature that held it in a fright, and Andrewes stoutly exacts the rent when due.

LORD SHEFFIELD'S OFFER FOR NEWHAVEN.

We almost howled when we read the tremendous account of nearly five months' confinement – the weakness in your traces affrighted me most, but I rejoiced exceedingly in your last, which says that you have advanced to nearly your usual condition of strength. I never heard of Pyrmont waters for the gout – but I grieve to tell you that notwithstanding repeated applications I find your Hogshead of Madeira (which is on its travels) may not arrive sooner than 4, 5, or 6 months. I must spare you all I can of my Old Madeira which is in London, but I do not know that it will amount to a quantity worth the trouble of sending. I shall make every effort and inquire everywhere for you. As to Sir Ralph Payne, surely a letter directed to him in London would find him, if you think that mode preferable.

Your plan as to Charlotte Porten might be the most desirable, but nothing could be more fancifull than to suppose it could possibly succeed, unless you could send a Demon cracked from Paris to hang the mother to a Lanthern.

My last letter answers your question whether Hester had left you the fee-simple of the Sussex Estate. I have learned nothing more concerning that Holy woman since the receipt of the Copy of her Will, nor am I likely, unless I should find some of the family of the Laws in London next winter. I think you should inclose to me an order to the Executors, Messrs. William Law, Senior, of Kings Cliffe, and William Law of Stamford, to deliver to me all the Writings, Papers, Surveys, Plans, &c., relating to the Sussex Estate, and you may add, those which relate to the Family of Gibbon.

When Batt was here not long since, I mentioned to him your old Aunt's Bequest and my proposition to you; at first, he did not object, but next day he scouted my folly and extravagance in diminishing my Income. My observations that I should and could easily cut down annually more timber than would pay the difference, and that in case I went to glory, those who came after me would be fully compensated in the end for loss of Income – I say, these observations seemed to make little impression on him. However, I was somewhat chilled, yet I cannot help thinking it or something of the kind might answer to both of us, if you should be desperately disposed to sell to increase your Income. I should acquire a position on the Sea-Shore – but you may have thought of something that would answer your purpose better.

You admire the Minister's secrecy and vigour. There is no secrecy in the case, but surely he has made a desperate plunge, and it appears to me a very wanton one – and if it is right to take an advantage, he is losing the opportunity.¹⁵³ It is difficult to suppose that Spain will engage single-handed with us, but we may bully them into it, and although France cannot at present do much, yet the adherence of the National Assembly to the Family compact may help the Spaniards to be stout, and above all it would be good policy in the French Aristocrats to dash France into a war at all events.

You are incorrigible, but we desire that you will encourage De Severy to write. It is surprising he can write and remember English so well. The alterations in your Chateau pleased us very much. I have enquired more than once whether you would have the provision for Mrs. Gibbon to be £200 or £300. You pay the latter, but I understand.

Everybody is looking into Bruce's Travels.¹⁵⁴ Part takes the attention, but they are abominably abused. Banks objects to the Botany, Reynell to the Geography, Cambridge to the History, The Greeks to the Greek, &c., &c.; yet the work is to be found on every table. Bruce printed the work, and sold 2000 copies to Robertson for £6000. He sells to the booksellers at 4 guineas, and they to their customers at 5 guineas.

555

M. LANGER AT WOLFENBUTTEL.

This letter is apparently written to M. Langer, the Librarian of the Ducal Library of Wolfenbuttel. A translation of part of it was found with Gibbon's manuscript of the Antiquities of the House of Brunswick, and published by Lord Sheffield (Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, vol. iii. pp. 353-558).

À Rolle, ce 12 Octobre, 1790.

Je vous aurois plutot remercié, Monsieur, des soins obligeans que vous avez bien voulû vous donner pour me procurer les Origines Guelficæ,¹⁵⁵ si d'un côté notre honnête libraire Mr. Pott ne m'avoit pas appris que vous etiez en voyage, si de l'autre je n'avois pas été moi même en proye à l'acces de goutte le plus rigoureux et le plus long que j'aye encore éprouvé.

Nous revoici à present dans notre état ordinaire, je marche, et vous ne courez plus. Je vous suppose bien etabli, bien enfoncé dans votre immense bibliotheque dans un endroit qui fournit peut-être un choix plus étendu et plus interessant des morts que des vivans. Comme vous êtes également propre à vivre avec les uns et les autres, je desirerois pour votre bonheur aussi bien que pour celui de vos amis, que vous pûssiez enfin executer comme moi le projet de chercher une douce retraite sur les bords du lac Leman. Il s'en faut de beaucoup que vous n'y soyez oublié: nous parlons souvent de vous surtout dans la famille de Severy, nous regrettons votre absence et en nous rappellant l'aimable franchise, la vivacité piquante de l'Esclave, nous cherisons l'esperance de vous revoir parmi nous en homme libre, ne dependant que de vos gouts et pouvant vous donner tout entier aux lettres et à la societé.

Vous aurez sans doute appris la perte irreparable que j'ai faite du pauvre Deyverdun. En vertu de son testament et de mes arrangemens avec son heritier Mr. le Major de Montagny, je me suis assuré ma vie durant la jouissance de sa maison et de son jardin. Vous en connoissez tous les agrémens qui se sont encore augmentés par une dépense assez considerable et assez bien tendu que j'y ai faité depuis sa mort. Je dois être content de ma position mais on ne peut pas remplacer un ami de trente ans. Votre curiosité, peut-être votre amitié, desirera de connoitre mes amusemens, mes travaux, mes projets pendant les deux ans qui se sont écoulé depuis la dernière publication de mon grand ouvrage. Aux questions indiscretes qu'on se permet trop souvent vis-à-vis de moi, je responds avec une mine renfrognée et d'une manière vague, mais je ne veux rien avoir de caché pour vous et pour imiter la franchise que vous aimez, je vous avouerai naturellement que ma confidence est fondée en partie sur le besoin que j'aurai de votre secours.

Après mon retour d'Angleterre les premiers mois ont été consacrés à la jouissance de ma liberté et de ma bibliotheque, et vous ne serez pas étonné si j'ai renouvellé une connoissance familière avec vos auteurs Grecs et si j'ai fait vœu de leur reserver tous les jours une portion de mon loisir. Je passe sous silence ces tristes momens dans lesquels je n'ai été occupé qu'à soigner et à pleurer mon ami: mais dès que j'ai commencé à me retrouver un esprit moins agile, j'ai cherché à me donner quelque distraction plus forte et plus interessante que la simple lecture. Le souvenir de ma servitude de vingt ans m'a cependant effrayé et je me suis bien promis de ne plus m'embarquer dans une entreprise de longue haleine que je n'acheverois vraisemblablement jamais. Il vaut bien mieux, me suis je dit, choisir, dans tous les pays et dans tous les siecles, des morceaux historiques que je traiterai separément suivant leur nature et selon mon gout. Lorsque ces opuscules (je pourrai les nommer en Anglais, Historical Excursions) me fourniront un volume, je le donnerai au public: ce don pourroit etre renouvellé jusqu'a ce que nous soyons fatigués ou ce public ou moi même: mais chaque volume, complet par lui même, n'exigera point de suite, et au lieu d'être borné comme la diligence au grand chemin, je me promenerai librement dans le champ de l'histoire en m'arrêtant partout où je trouve des points de vue agreables. Dans ce projet je ne vois qu'un inconvenient, – un objet interessant s'étend et s'aggrandit sous le travail: je pourrois être entrainé au dela de mes bornes, mais je serai doucement entrainé sans prevoyance et sans contrainte.

THE HISTORY OF THE GUELFS.

Mes soupçons ont été vérifiés dans le choix de ma première excursion. Ce que j'avois si bien prevu n'a pas manqué d'arriver à mon premier choix et ce choix vous expliquera pourquoi j'ai demandé avec tant d'empressement les Origines Guelficæ. Dans mon histoire j'avois rendu compte de deux alliances illustres, d'un fils du Marquis Azo d'Este avec une fille de Robert Guiscard,¹⁵⁶ d'une princesse de Brunswick avec l'Empereur Grec. Un premier appercu de l'antiquité et de la grandeur de la maison de Brunswick a excité ma curiosité, et j'ai cru me pouvoir interesser les deux nations que j'estime le plus par les mémoires d'une famille qui est sortie de l'une pour regner sur l'autre. Mes recherches, en me devoilant la beauté de ce sujet, m'en ont fait voir l'étendue et la difficulté. L'origine des Marquis de Ligurie et peut-être de Toscane a été suffisament eclaircie par Muratori et Leibnitz; l'Italie du moyen age, son histoire et ses monumens, me sont très connus et je ne suis pas mécontent de ce que j'ai déjà écrit sur la branche cadette d'Este qui est demeurée fidelle a garder ses cendres casanières. Les anciens Guelfs ne me sont point étrangers, et je me crois en etat de rendre compte de la puissance et de la chute de leurs heritiers, les Ducs de Bavière et de Saxe.

La succession de la maison de Brunswick au trône de la Grande Bretagne sera très assurément la partie la plus interessante de mon travail; mais tous les materiaux se trouvent dans ma langue, et un Anglois devroit rougir s'il n'avoit pas approfondi l'histoire moderne et la constitution actuelle de son pays. Mais entre le premier Duc et le premier Electeur de Brunswick il se trouve un intervalle de quatre cent cinquante ans, je suis condamné à suivre dans les tenèbres un sentier étroit et raboteux, et les divisions, les sous divisions, de tant de branches et de territoires repandent sur ce sentier la confusion d'un labyrinthe Genealogique. Les événemens sans éclat et sans liaison sont bornés à une province d'Allemagne et ce n'est que vers la fin de cette periode que je serois un peu ranimé par la reformation, la guerre de trente ans, et la nouvelle puissance de l'Electorat. Comme je me propose de crayonner des Memoires et non pas de composer une histoire, je marcherois sans doute d'un pas rapide, je presenterois des resultats plutot que des faits, des observations plutot que des récits: mais vous sentez, combien un tableau general exige de connoissances particulières, combien l'auteur doit être plus savant que son livre.

Or cet auteur, il est à deux cent lieues de la Saxe, il ignore la langue et il ne s'est jamais appliqué à l'histoire de l'Allemagne. Eloigné des sources, il ne lui reste qu'un seul moyen pour les faire couler dans sa bibliotheque. C'est de se menager sur les lieux même un correspondant exact, un guide eclairé, un oracle enfin qu'il puisse consulter dans tous ses besoins. Par votre caractère, votre esprit, vos lumières, votre position, vous êtes cet homme precieux et unique que je cherche, et quand vous m'indiquerez un suppléant aussi capable que vous même je ne m'addresserois pas avec la même confiance à un étranger. Je vous accablerois librement de questions, et de nouvelles questions naitroient souvent de vos reponses; je vous prierois de fouiller dans votre vaste depôt; je vous demanderois des notices, des livres, des extraits, des traductions, des renseignements sur tous les objets qui peuvent intéresser mon travail. Mais j'ignore si vous êtes disposé à sacrifier votre loisir, vos études chéries à une correspondance pénible sans agrémens et sans gloire. Je me flatte que vous feriez quelque chose pour moi, vous feriez encore davantage pour l'honneur de la maison à laquelle vous êtes attaché, mais suis-je en droit de supposer que mes ecrits puissent contribuer de quelque chose à son honneur?

J'attends, Monsieur, votre reponse qu'elle soit prompte et franche. Si vous daignez vous associer à mon entreprise, je vous envoyerai sur le champ mon premier interrogatoire. Votre refus me decideroit à renoncer à mon dessein, ou du moins à lui donner une nouvelle forme. J'ose en même tems vous demander un profond secret: un mot indiscret seroit repeté par cent bouches et j'aurois le desagrement de voir dans les journaux, et bientôt dans les papiers Anglois, une annonce, peut-être défigurée, de mes projets littéraires, qui ne sont confiés qu'à vous seul.

J'ai l'honneur d'être,

E. G.