Private Letters of Edward Gibbon (1753-1794) Volume 2 (of 2)

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.