Chapter XV: Letter 47: ) (2)

The decline of the Roman Empire does not yet decline, the clamour subsides, the sale continues, and we are now printing a third edition in quarto of 1000 copies (in all 3500) with the notes at bottom. I am often pressed about the second volume, which advances very slowly indeed. Last year was allowed for repose and preparation, the usual distractions of the winter have been increased by a constant daily attendance of two hours _every day_ to Dr. Hunter's Anatomy Lectures, which have opened to me a new and very entertaining scene within myself. This summer I propose passing at Paris, as I must not lose any time if I wish to catch my friends the Neckers[356] in their brilliant and precarious situation of Ministers. As soon as we have paid the King's debts I intend (about the end of next month) to set forward on an expedition in which I promise to myself very great and various entertainment. You need not in any respect be allarmed at my design. My seat at Westminster is a full security for my return in four or five months; the supplies for the journey will be paid by the Roman Empire, and my business (particularly in Bucks) will be entrusted to the safeguard and active hands of the Lord of Sheffield. Adieu, Dear Madam,

I am,
Ever yours,
E. GIBBON.

Mrs. Porten is as young as ever. I understand that the giddy girl has neglected writing to you.

[356] In June, 1776, after the fall of Turgot, Necker was
associated with Taboureau des Réaux, the Controller-General, in
the management of the finances of France, and given the title of
_Directeur du trésor_. In June, 1777, he succeeded Taboureau des
Réaux, but, because of his religion, only received the title of
_Directeur Général_.

[Sidenote: VISIT TO PARIS.]

308.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Saturday night, April 12th, 1777.

*Your dispatch is gone to R. Way, and I flatter myself that by your assistance I shall be enabled to lose £1000 upon Lenbourough before my return from Paris. The day of my departure is not absolutely fixed; Sunday sen-night, the 27th instant, is talked of: but if any India business should come on after the Civil list, it will occasion some delay. Otherwise things are in great forwardness,* a livery servant is provided, a Swiss who speaks French and English. I take my own chaise, and begin to think of settling my credit. Pray if I can save four pr. cent. by it, may I not decline Fleet Street, who are very indifferent, I believe, about that sort of business? *Mrs. G. is an enemy to the whole plan; and I must answer, in a long letter, two very ingenious objections which she has started; 1st, that I shall be confined, or put to death by the priests, and, 2ndly, That I shall sully my _moral_ character, by making love to Necker's wife. Before I go, I will consult Newton, about a power of Attorney for you. By the bye, I wish you would remember a sort of promise, and give me one day before I go. We talk chiefly of the Marquis de la Fayette,[357] who was here a few weeks ago. He is about twenty, with 130,000 Livres a year; the nephew of Noailles, who is Ambassador here. He has bought the D. of Kingston's Yacht, and is gone to joyn the Americans. The Court _appear_ to be angry with him. Adieu.*

E. G.

[357] The Marquis de la Fayette, born 1757, married the second
daughter of the Duc d'Ayen, eldest son of the Maréchal de
Noailles, and brother of the Marquis de Noailles, the French
ambassador. La Fayette came to London on a visit to his wife's
uncle early in 1777, and was presented to George III. A few days
later he returned to Paris, sailed from Passages with several
young Frenchmen for America, landed in June, and immediately
received the rank of major-general in the American army. A
_lettre de cachet_ was sent after him to Bordeaux; but he avoided
it by crossing into Spain.

[Sidenote: HIS STEPMOTHER'S GROUNDLESS FEARS.]

309.

_To his Stepmother._

Bentinck Street, April the 14th, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

I will freely acknowledge that I was not a little surprized and even vexed at finding by your last letter, that you had conceived so strong a dislike to my intended journey. But I must add at the same time that I was equally sensible of the obliging frankness with which you communicate your objections. The less foundation I can discover for your apprehensions, the more I am convinced of the delicacy of your regard. True love is of very timid and even pusillanimous nature, and can easily transform the most harmless objects into horrid phantoms which appear to threaten the happiness of those who are dear to us. But when you have indulged the exquisite sensibility of friendship, you will, I am sure, make a proper use of your excellent understanding, and will soon smile at your own terrors. The constancy and danger of a twenty years' passion is a subject upon which I hardly know how to be serious. I am ignorant what effect that period of time has produced upon me, but I do assure you that it has committed very great ravages upon the Lady, and that at present she is very far from being an object either of desire or scandal. As a woman of talents and fortune she is at the head of the literature of Paris, the station of her husband procures her respect from the first people of the country, and the reception which I shall meet with in her house will give me advantages that have fallen to the share of few Englishmen. When I mention her _house_, I must remove the misapprehension which seems to have allarmed you. I shall _visit_ but not _lodge_ there. I have not the least reason to believe that they think of offering me an apartment, but if they do, I shall certainly refuse it, for the sake of my own comfort and freedom: So that the husband will be easy, the world will be mute, and my moral character will still preserve its immaculate purity.

A moment's reflection will satisfy you that I have as little to fear from the hatred of the priests as from the love of Madame N. Whatever might be the wishes of the French Clergy, the wisdom of the Government and the liberal temper of the Nation have rendered those monsters perfectly inoffensive. Their own subjects (Voltaire for instance, who resides near Geneva, but in France) think, converse and write with the most unbounded freedom: and can you imagine that an English Protestant, a member of the British Legislature, living at Paris under the protection of his Minister, and in Society with their own, will be exposed to the smallest possible danger or even trouble for having published a profane book in a foreign language and country? When David Hume (the name, the most abhorred by the Godly) was at Paris, he was oppressed only with civilities; and the recent fame of my book is perhaps the circumstance which will introduce me with the most favour and eclat.

The scheme of passing some months at Paris (though I have patiently waited till I could execute it with prudence and propriety) has been formed many years ago. I cannot persuade myself without any reason that strikes my understanding to renounce an expedition which promises so much entertainment and information: but it will be a very considerable alloy to my satisfaction if I leave any uneasiness or apprehension on your mind. I could very much have wished to fulfil my promise of an Easter visit; but I imagined that I had already explained how closely I was confined in town by my daily attendance on Dr. Hunter's lectures. They prevent my setting out for Paris till after the 25th instant, by which time I hope we shall have paid the King's debts.[358] You may depend on receiving regular though concise intelligence of my motions.

I am, Dear Madam,
Most truly yours,
E. GIBBON.

[358] On April 9, 1777, a message from the king was delivered to
both Houses, asking for the payment of his debts, which amounted
to £600,000. At the same time a Bill "for the better support of
the Royal Household" was introduced, to increase his revenue by
£100,000 a year. A motion for a committee to inquire into the
accounts was rejected; the king's debts were discharged, and the
Government Bill carried.

310.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Atwood's, Saturday night, [April 19th, 1777].

*It is not possible as yet to fix the day of my departure. That circumstance depends on the state of India, and will not be determined till the general court of next Wednesday. I know from the _first_ authority, if the violence of the Proprietors about the Pigot[359] can be checked in the India house by the influence of a Government Majority, the Minister does not wish to exert the omnipotence of Parliament; and I shall be dismissed from hence time enough to set forwards on Thursday the first of May. On the contrary, should we be involved in those perplexing affairs, they may easily detain me till the middle of next month. But as all this is very uncertain, I direct you and My Lady to appear in town to-morrow sennight. I have many things to say.* You mistake about the dear inseparable Caplin. He rides at his ease in the Chaise with his master, while the Swiss, who will condescend to put on a livery at Paris, will mount on horseback. *We have been animated this week, and, notwithstanding the strict œconomy recommended by Charles Fox and John Wilkes, we have paid the Royal debts.*

E. G.

[359] Lord Pigot, Governor of Madras, was arrested in April,
1776, by the Madras Council for his support of the Rajah of
Tanjore against the Nabob of the Carnatic, and his opposition
to an iniquitous claim upon the Rajah's revenue made by Paul
Benfield. He died while still under arrest, in May, 1777. The
Court of Proprietors voted by a large majority for his release
and restoration to his governorship. The Directors were almost
equally divided upon the question. Meanwhile the Government
exercised all its influence to carry through the Court of
Proprietors three resolutions--one recalling Lord Pigot, a second
ordering home his friends in the council, a third ordering home
his enemies. These resolutions were carried. Lord Pigot's case
was then taken up in Parliament, and on May 22, 1777, Governor
Johnston moved several resolutions approving Lord Pigot's action,
and condemning the Madras Council. The resolutions were rejected
by 90 to 67. See note to Letter 371.

311.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Monday night, [April 21st, 1777].

*Bad news from Hampshire.----Support Hugonin, comfort me, correct or expell Winton, sell Lenborough, and remove my temporal cares. When do you arrive?*

312.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Wednesday night, [April 23rd, 1777].

*It is uncertain whether India comes to Westminster this year, and it is certain that Gibbon goes to Paris next Saturday sennight. Therefore Holroyd must appear in town the beginning of next week. Gibbon wants the cordial of his presence before the journey. My Lady _must_ come.*

[Sidenote: STARTS FOR PARIS.]

313.

_To his Stepmother._

May the 3rd, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

After some public delays which have tryed my patience, I at length resolved to wait no longer for the Budget. I set forwards Monday, and hope to breakfast at Calais Tuesday and to dine at Paris either Friday or Saturday; the alternative depends on my stepping out of my way to Lisle. You may be assured of receiving immediate notice of my effecting my landing on the Continent.

I am, Dear Madam,
Most truly yours,
E. G.

You will find Fleet Street instructed to obey your Midsummer Order.

314.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Dover, Tuesday evening, May 6th, 1777.

*My expedition does not begin very auspiciously. The wind, Which for some days had been fair, paid me the compliment of changing on my arrival; and, though I immediately secured a vessel, it has been impossible to make the least use of it during the whole course of this tedious day. It seems doubtful, whether I shall get out to-morrow morning; and the Captain assures me, that the passage will have the double advantage of being both long and rough. Last night a small Privateer, fitted out at Dunkirk, with a commission from Dr. Franklin, attacked, took, and has carried into Dunkirk road, the Harwich Pacquet.[360] The King's Messenger had just time to throw his dispatches overboard: he passed through this town about four o'clock this afternoon, in his return to London. As the alarm is now given, our American friend will probably remain quiet, or will be soon caught; so that I have not _much_ apprehension for my personal safety; but if so daring an outrage is not followed by punishment and restitution, it may become a very serious business, and may possibly shorten my stay at Paris.

Adieu. I shall write by the first opportunity, either from Calais or Philadelphia.* I wrote last Friday to Hugonin, and announced an Epistle of instructions from you. I embrace My lady. Did your Lord and Colonel disappoint you?

[360] The _Prince of Orange_, packet from Harwich to Helvetsluys,
was captured by the _Surprise_, an American privateer commanded
by Captain Cunningham, carrying four guns and ten swivels.

315.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Calais, Wednesday, May the 7th, 1777.

*_Post nubila Phœbus._ A pleasant passage, an excellent house, a good dinner with Lord Coleraine, whom I found here. Easy Custom-house Officers, fine Weather, &c. I am detained to-night by the temptation of a French Comedy, in a Theatre at the end of Dessaint's Garden; but shall be in motion to-morrow early, and hope to dine at Paris Saturday. Adieu. I think I am a punctual Correspondent; but this beginning is too good to last.*

[Sidenote: PLEASURES AND OCCUPATIONS IN PARIS.]

316.

_To his Stepmother._

Calais, May the 7th, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

I am this moment (about one o'clock in the afternoon) landed after a very pleasant passage. I already feel my mind expand with the unbounded prospect of the Continent. But notwithstanding my love of freedom you may rest assured that in due season, I shall return without reluctance to my cage in Bentinck Street.

I am, Dear Madam,
Most truly yours,
E. GIBBON.

317.

_To his Stepmother._

Paris, May 12th, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

The departure of the post only leaves me time to say that I reached this place last Saturday night, and that I already find myself as perfectly established as I ever was in London.

I am, Dear Madam,
Most truly yours,
E. GIBBON.

[Sidenote: HIS SUCCESS IN FRENCH SOCIETY.]

318.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Paris, June the 16th, 1777.

I told you what would infallibly happen, and you know enough of the nature of the beast not to be surprized at it. I have now been at Paris exactly five weeks,[361] during which time I have not written to any person whatsoever within the British Dominions except two lines of notification to Mrs. Gibbon. The Daemon of procrastination has at length yielded to the Genius of Friendship, assisted indeed by the powers of fear and shame. But when I have seated myself before my table and begin to revolve all that I have seen and tasted during this busy period, I feel myself oppressed and confounded; and I am very near throwing away the pen and resigning myself to indolent despair. A compleat history would require a volume at least as corpulent as the decline and fall, and if I attempt to select and abridge, besides the difficulty of the choice there occur so many things which cannot properly be entrusted to paper, and so many others of too slight a nature to support the Journey, that I am almost tempted to reserve for our future conversations the detail of my pleasures and occupations. But as I am sensible that you are _rigid_ and impatient, I will try to convey in a few words a general idea of my situation as a man of the World and as a man of Letters.

You remember that the Neckers were my principal dependance, and the reception which I have met with from them very far surpassed my most sanguine expectations. I do not indeed lodge in their house (as it might excite the jealousy of the husband and procure me a letter de cachet), but I live very much with them, dine and sup whenever they have company, which is almost every day, and whenever I like it, for they are not in the least exigeans. Mr. Walpole gave me an introduction to Madame du Deffand,[362] an agreable young Lady of eighty-two years of age, who has constant suppers and the best company in Paris. When you see the D. of Richmond at Lewes he will give you an account of that house, where I meet him almost every evening. Ask him about Madame de Cambis.[363] I am afraid poor Mary is entirely forgot. I have met the D. of Choiseul[364] at his particular request, dined _by accident_ with Franklin, conversed with the Emperor,[365] been presented at court, and gradually, or rather rapidly, I find my acquaintance spreading over the most valuable parts of Paris. They pretend to like me, and whatever you may think of French professions, I am convinced that some at least are sincere. On the other hand I feel myself easy and happy in their company, and only regret that I did not come over two or three months sooner. Though Paris throughout the summer promises me a very agreable society, yet I am hurt every day by the departure of Men and Women whom I begin to know with some familiarity, the departure of Officers for their Governments and Garrisons, of Bishops for their Dioceses, and even of country Gentlemen for their estates, as a rural taste gains ground in this Country.

So much for the general idea of my acquaintance; details would be endless yet unsatisfactory. You may add to the pleasures of Society those of the Spectacles and promenades, and you will find that I lead a very agreable life; let me just condescend to observe that it is not extravagant. After decking myself out with silks and silver, the ordinary establishment of Coach, Lodgeing, Servants, eating and pocket expences does not exceed sixty pounds pr. month. Yet I have two footmen in handsome liveries behind my Coach, and my apartment is hung with damask. Adieu for the present. I have more to say, but were I to attempt any farther progress you must wait another post, and you have already waited long enough of all conscience.

Let me just in two words give you an idea of my day. I am now going (nine o'clock) to the King's Library, where I shall stay till twelve. As soon as I am dressed I set out to dine with the Duke de Nivernois,[366] shall go from thence to the French Comedy into the Princess de Beauvau's _loge grillée_,[367] and am not quite determined whether I shall sup at Madame du Deffand's, Madame Necker's, or the Sardinian Embassadress's.[368] Once more Adieu. Do not be fond of shewing my letter; the playful effusions of friendship would be construed by strangers as gross vanity.

I embrace My lady and Bambine. I shall with chearfulness execute any of her commissions.

[361] This letter was begun one Sunday and finished the next.

[362] Marie de Vichy-Chamrond (1697-1781) married, in 1718, Jean
Baptiste Jacques de la Lande, Marquis du Deffand. Separated
from her husband in 1722 for her relations with the Regent duc
d'Orléans, the President Hénault, and others, she lived chiefly
at Sceaux till the death of her husband in 1750. In 1753 she
opened her salon at the Convent of St. Joseph. A year later she
became totally blind. She had stayed at La Source with Lord
Bolingbroke in 1721, and since then had known some of the most
distinguished men and women in France and England. But the
following extracts from her correspondence with Walpole, who had
introduced Gibbon to her, show her appreciation of the historian
as a member of society:--"Je suis fort contente de M. Gibbon;
depuis huit jours qu'il est arrivé, je l'ai vu presque tous les
jours; il a la conversation facile, parle très-bien français;
j'espère qu'il me sera de grande ressource" (May 18, 1777).
"Je lui crois beaucoup d'esprit, sa conversation est facile,
_et forte de choses_, comme disait Fontenelle; il me plaît
beaucoup, d'autant plus qu'il ne m'embarrasse pas" (May 27). "Je
m'accommode de plus en plus de M. Gibbon; c'est véritablement
un homme d'esprit; tous les tons lui sont faciles, il est aussi
Français ici que MM. de Choiseul, de Beauvau, etc. Je me flatte
qu'il est content de moi; nous soupons presque tous les jours
ensemble, le plus souvent chez moi; ce soir ce sera chez Madame
de Mirepoix" (June 8). "M. Gibbon me convient parfaitement; je
voudrais bien qu'il restât toujours ici; je le vois presque tous
les jours; sa conversation est très facile, on est à son aise
avec lui" (June 22). "M. Gibbon a ici le plus grand succès, on se
l'arrache; Je ne sais pas si tous les jugements qu'il porte sont
bien justes, mais il se comporte avec tout le monde d'une manière
qui ne donne point de prise aux ridicules; ce qui est fort
difficile à éviter dans les sociétés qu'il fréquente" (September
21).

[363] Gabrielle Charlotte Françoise d'Alsace-Hénin-Liétard
married, in November, 1755, Jacques François, Vicomte de Cambis.
She was the sister of the Prince de Chimay, and niece of the
Marquise de Boufflers. She knew English well, and translated
into French several of the _Portraits_ of Lord Chesterfield. Her
conquest of the Duke of Richmond was well known in Paris. Gibbon
himself was her victim. "Le Gibbon," writes Madame du Deffand to
Walpole, April 20, 1780, "était aussi un peu épris; elle fait
plus de conquêtes à présent qu'elle n'en a fait dans sa première
jeunesse; sa coquetterie est sèche, froide et piquante; c'est un
nouveau genre qu'a sa séduction." The Vicomtesse de Cambis died
at Richmond in 1808. Madame de Genlis, who disliked her, says
(_Mémoires_, vol. ii. pp. 30, 31) that she was deeply pitted with
the small-pox, and that "elle avoit l'air le plus dédaigneux et
le plus impertinent qu'on ait jamais osé porter dans le monde."

[364] The Duc de Choiseul (1719-1785) was Minister of Foreign
Affairs, and afterwards War Minister and Naval Minister, to
Louis XV. during the ascendency of Madame de Pompadour. He
was disgraced in 1770, when Madame du Barri became the royal
favourite.

[365] Madame du Deffand describes a small party at the Neckers',
where she met the Emperor Joseph II. and Gibbon.

[366] Louis Jules Mancini, Duc de Nivernois (1716-1798), was
ambassador in England from 1762 to 1763. In that capacity he had
given Gibbon introductions to leaders of Parisian society during
his first visit to the capital.

[367] Marie Sylvie de Rohan-Chabot married, as her first
husband, the Marquis de Chermont d'Amboise. Left a widow in
1761, she married in 1764, as his second wife, the Maréchal de
Beauvau, fourth son of the Prince de Craon (died 1793), and was,
therefore, stepmother of his daughter the Princesse de Poix. She
and her husband belonged to the Liberal party, who supported the
Duc de Choiseul and opposed the ascendency of Madame du Barri.
For this reason she was nicknamed "la mère des Machabées." The
Princesse de Beauvau, one of the most charming women of her
time, wrote an _Eloge_ of her husband. She died in 1807. Her own
character is sketched in the _Hommage à la mémoire de Madame la
princesse de Beauvau_ of Madame de Luynes. "Elle étoit, a mon
avis, la femme la plus distinguée de la société, par l'esprit,
le ton, les manières, et l'air franc et ouvert qui lui étoit
particulier" (Madame de Genlis, _Mémoires_, vol. i. p. 357).

[368] Count de Viry, the Sardinian ambassador, as Baron de la
Perrière, was formerly Sardinian ambassador in England. There
he married Miss Harriet Speed, a niece of Lady Cobham, and one
of the heroines of Gray's _Long Story_ who were sent from Lady
Cobham's house to rid the country of the "wicked imp they call
a poet." "My old friend Miss Speed," writes Gray to Wharton
in 1761, "has done a very foolish thing; she has married the
Baron de la Perrière, son to the Sardinian Minister, the Count
de Viry. He is about twenty-eight years old (ten years younger
than herself), but looks nearer forty." In September, 1777,
Viry was recalled from Paris, and disgraced, because, as was
alleged, his wife had been bribed by Lord Stormont to betray
the diplomatic secrets of the court of Turin. Another account
is given in Lescure's _Correspondence Secrète sur Louis XVI.,
Marie Antoinette, etc._: "M. le Comte de Viry, ambassadeur
de Sardaigne, est rappelé à Turin. On croit qu'il y a de la
disgrace" (vol. i. p. 74). A secret treaty was signed early
in 1777 between Austria, France, Spain, and Sardinia against
England, and the secretary of the Comte de Viry "a vendu une
copie du traité à milord Stormont" (_ibid._, vol. i. p. 82). See
also, for a third account, _Dutensiana_ (Londres, 1806), pp.
216-219.

[Sidenote: HIS FRIENDS AND ACQUAINTANCES.]

319.

_To his Stepmother._

Hotel de Modene, Paris, July 24th, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

If ever my negligence could be excused by your good natured friendship, it would be from the consideration of my present circumstances, and I am sure that your regard for me is of so pure and disinterested a character that you had much rather I should be happy without hearing from me, than if you received by every post a regular succession of complaints. Happily indeed have I passed two short months since my arrival at Paris, and every circumstance of my journey has more than answered my most sanguine expectations. My connection with the Neckers, who every day acquire more power and deserve more respect, first opened the door to me, and perhaps the reputation of a popular writer has contributed a little to enlarge the entrance. I pass my time in the society of men of letters, people of fashion, the higher ranks of _the clergy_, and the foreign Ministers, and except when I wish to steal a few moments' privacy, it seldom happens to me to dine or sup at my hotel. The vacancies of my time are filled by the public libraries in the morning, and in the afternoon by the spectacles, and as part of my acquaintance begin to disperse themselves in the environs of Paris, I have contrived, though in a most unfavourable season, to make several very pleasant excursions. Such is the general idea of my life, in which I have made many acquaintance and formed some more intimate connections, from all of which I receive civilities, amusement and information. Details would be infinite, and must be reserved for your fireside at Bath; but I cannot forbear saying something of two or three persons whom you know.

First then you will expect to hear of Mrs. Mallet. Mr. Scott had desired me to take charge of a letter, and I delivered it to her own fair hands the second day after my arrival. She received me with a shriek of joy and a close embrace, and we sat down to talk of old and new subjects. I found her exactly the same talkative, positive, passionate, conceited creature as we knew her twenty years ago. She raved with her usual indiscretion and fury of Gods, Kings and Ministers, the perfections of her favourites and the vice or folly of every person she disliked. Unfortunately she had applied to Mr. Necker for some favour, and had not been received in a manner suitable to her importance. Her resentment was expressed in such indecent language, that after repeated but ineffectual hints of my intimate connection with the person she was abusing, I was obliged to shorten my visit with a firm resolution of never returning.

Your favourite, the Duke of Richmond, has fallen in my way infinitely more than he ever did in England, and I do assure you that the air of Paris agrees perfectly well with him. He is easy, attentive and cheerful, pays his court to young and to old women, and is extremely popular and even fashionable in the Society of Paris. I have likewise seen a great deal of the Sardinian Ambassadress whom you have formerly known with Lady Cobham, under the name of Miss Speed. She keeps a very hospitable house, and has acquired the manners of the country without losing the sentiments of her own. Adieu, Dear Madam. If you can think of any commissions for me I will execute them with care and pleasure, though I have no occasion for any memento to make me often think of you.

Sir Stanier will be so good as to forward anything to me.

320.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Paris, August the 11th, 1777.

*Well, and who is the Culprit now?--Thus far I had written in the pride of my heart, and fully determined to inflict an Epistle upon you, even before I received any answer to my former; I was very near a Bull. But this forward half line lay ten days barren and inactive, till its generative powers were excited by the missive which I received yesterday.

[Sidenote: NO IMMEDIATE RISK OF FRENCH WAR.]

What a wretched piece of work do we seem to be making of it in America! The greatest force which any European power ever ventured to transport into that Continent, is not strong enough even to attack the enemy; the Naval strength of Great Britain is not sufficient to prevent the Americans (they have almost lost the appellation of Rebels) from receiving every assistance that they wanted; and in the mean time you are obliged to call out the Militia to defend your own coasts against their privateers.[369] You possibly may expect from me some account of the designs and policy of the French Court, but I chuse to decline that task for two reasons: 1^{st,} Because you may find them laid open in every newspaper; and 2^{ndly,} Because I live too much with their Courtiers and Ministers to know anything about them. I shall only say that I am not under any immediate apprehensions of a War with France. It is much more pleasant as well as profitable to view in safety the raging of the tempest, occasionally to pick up some pieces of the Wreck, and to improve their trade, their agriculture, and their finances, while the two countries are _lento collisa duello_. Far from taking any step to put a speedy end to this astonishing dispute, I should not be surprized if next summer they were to lend their cordial assistance to England, as to the weaker party. As to my personal engagement with the D[uke] of R[ichmond], I recollect a very few slight skirmishes, but nothing that deserves the name of a general engagement. The extravagance of some disputants, both French and English, who have espoused the cause of America, sometimes inspires me with an extraordinary vigour. Upon the whole, I find it much easier to defend the justice than the policy of our Measures; but there are certain cases, where whatever is repugnant to sound policy ceases to be just.

The more I see of Paris, the more I like it.[370] The regular course of the Society in which I live is easy, polite, and entertaining; and almost every day is marked by the acquisition of some new acquaintance, who is worth cultivating, or who, at least, is worth remembering. To the great admiration of the French, I regularly dine and regularly sup, drink a dish of strong Coffee after each meal, and find my stomach a citizen of the World. The Spectacles, (particularly the Italian, and above all the French Comedie) which are open the whole summer, afford me an agreeable relaxation from Company; and to shew you that I frequent them from taste only, and not from idleness, I have not yet seen the Colisee, the Vauxhall, the Boulevards, or any of those places of entertainment which constitute Paris to most of our Countrymen. Occasional trips to dine or sup in some of the thousand Country-houses which are scattered round the environs of Paris, serve to vary the scene. In the mean while the summer insensibly glides away, and the fatal month of October approaches, when I must exchange the house of Madame Necker for the house of Commons.

[Sidenote: PARIS BECOMING EMPTY.]

I regret that I could not chuse the winter, instead of the Summer, for this excursion: I should have found many valuable persons, and should have preserved others whom I have lost as I began to know them. The Duke de Choiseul, who deserves attention both for himself, and for keeping the best house in Paris, passes seven months of the year in Touraine; and though I have been tempted, I consider with horror a journey of sixty leagues into the Country. The Princess of Beauvau* (by the bye Beauveau, fine calf, is an orthography worthy of a Sussex farmer), the Princess of Beauvau, *who is a most superior Woman, has been absent above six weeks, and does not return till the 24^{th} of this month. A large body of Recruits will be assembled by the Fontainbleau journey; but in order [to] have a thorough knowledge of this splendid Country, I ought to stay till the month of January; and if I could be sure that opposition would be as tranquil as they were last year--

I think your life has been as animated, or, at least, as tumultuous, and I envy you Lady Payne,[371] and Lady Dy, &c. much more than either the Primate,[372] or the Chief Justice.[373] Let not the generous breast of Mylady be torn by the black serpents of envy. She still possesses the first place in the sentiments of her slave: but the adventure of the fan was a mere accident, owing to Lord Carmarthen. Adieu. I think you may be satisfied. I say nothing of my terrestrial affairs.* Good works are unnecessary, as I can only hope to be justified by my faith in the merit of my Redeemer John Holroyd.

[369] "American privateers," writes Walpole, July 17, 1777,
"infest our coasts; they keep Scotland in alarms, and even the
harbour of Dublin has been newly strengthened with cannon." On
August 7 the crew of a privateer landed at Penzance and plundered
several farmers of their live stock. It was in the following
year, April, 1778, that Paul Jones first harried the English and
Scottish coasts.

[370] In _The Private Correspondence of David Garrick_ (vol. ii.
pp. 255, 256) is printed a letter from Gibbon to Garrick, written
from the "Hôtel de Modène, rue Jacob, Fauxbourg St. Germain," at
Paris, and dated August 14th, 1777. Gibbon begins by thanking
Garrick for a kindly mention of his name. "It is pleasant to find
one's-self mentioned with friendship by those whom posterity will
mention with admiration. Foreign nations are a kind of posterity,
and among them you already reap the full reward of your fame."
"You have reason," he continues, "to envy me, for I can truly
declare that I reckon the three months which I have now passed
in Paris among the most agreeable of my life. My connection with
a house, before which the proudest of the Gallic nobles bow the
knee, my familiar acquaintance with the language, and a natural
propensity to be pleased with the people and their manners, have
introduced me into very good company; and, different in that
respect from the traveller Twiss, I have sometimes been invited
to the same houses a second time. If besides these advantages
your partiality should ascribe any others to your friend, I am
not proud enough entirely to disclaim them. I propose to stay
at Paris about two months longer, to hook in (if possible) a
little of the Fontainebleau voyage, and to return to England a
few days before the meeting of Parliament, where I suppose we
shall have some warm scenes. You cannot surely be satisfied with
the beginning, or rather no beginning, of the American campaign,
which seems to elevate the enemies as much as it must humble the
friends of Great Britain.

"At this time of year, the society of the Turk's-head" (in
Gerrard Street, where the Literary Club met) "can no longer be
addressed as a corporate body, and most of the individual members
are probably dispersed; Adam Smith in Scotland; Burke in the
shades of Beaconsfield; Fox, the Lord or the devil knows where,
&c., &c. Be so good as to salute in my name those friends who may
fall in your way. Assure Sir Joshua, in particular, that I have
not lost my relish for _manly_ conversation and the society of
the brown table. I hope Colman has made a successful campaign.
May I beg to be remembered to Mrs. Garrick? By this time she
has probably discovered the philosopher's stone; she has long
possessed a much more valuable secret,--that of gaining the
hearts of all who have the happiness of knowing her.

"I am, dear Sir, most affectionately yours,

"E. GIBBON."

[371] Françoise Lambertine, daughter of Baron Kolbel, married,
September 1, 1767, "a rich West Indian," Ralph Payne (knighted in
1771), a son of the Governor of St. Christopher's, and himself
Governor of the Leeward Islands (1771-75). Sir Ralph represented
various constituencies in Parliament from 1768 to 1799, and,
with his wife, was prominent in London society. He was created
Viscount Lavington. Lady Lavington survived her husband, who died
in 1807, as Governor of Antigua and a bankrupt.

[372] The Hon. Fred. Cornwallis, Archbishop of Canterbury.

[373] Lord Mansfield, Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench.

321.

_To his Stepmother._

Hotel de Modene à Paris, September the 1st, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

I must either write ten lines or twenty pages, and you will easily judge which I shall prefer. The various sets of company with whom I pass my time are so completely strangers to you, that before I mentioned any person of my acquaintance I must introduce them with a very tedious yet imperfect account of their birth, parentage, education and character. After all, what would principally interest the curiosity of friendship may be dispatched in two words--_I am well and happy_. Mr. Necker has not yet discovered any signs of jealousy, and I supped last night between two Arch-bishops who, I am persuaded, have not the least intention of solliciting a _lettre de cachet_ to send me to the Bastille. I only regret that it was not possible to choose another season of the Year for my Expedition. In summer Paris is very far from being a desert like London, and I have the daily pleasure of living in a very numerous and agreeable Society, yet as there is always a considerable emigration into the provinces I am sensible that many valuable acquisitions have escaped me. In the first or second week of October the Court goes to Fontainebleau, and as it is never so full and splendid as in that place, I propose passing a few days there. I must afterwards allow myself a little space to thank and embrace my Paris friends: and shall return by the first of November to a very different scene of things in London.

You will not be sorry to hear that, though I love the French from inclination and gratitude, I have by no means lost my relish for my native country. I have spent so much time in gay dissipation, that I must set myself in good earnest to work; but you may depend on my desire to steal a few days of the Christmas recess for a Bath expedition. I fancy we shall have a busy Session of Parliament, and unless Howe has very decisive success we shall be less unanimous for the design of conquering America. I will not trouble you with politics, but will only venture to assure you, that, in the present moment, the French Counsels are seriously inclined for peace. My friend Necker (for I now esteem and love him on his own account) is declared principal minister of the finances, and though he has great obstacles to contend with, his knowledge, his firmness, and the purity of his intentions ought to make us wish for his disgrace.

I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. GIBBON.

[Sidenote: A MARTYR TO GOUT.]

322.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Bentinck Street, Nov. 4th, 1777.

I arrived last night, laid up with the gout in both my feet. I suffer like one of the first Martyrs, and possibly have provoked my punishment as much. If you wish to see me, come to town before the meeting. I hope my Lady will not laugh.

323.

_To his Stepmother._

Bentinck Street, November 4th, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

When you hear the reason, you will excuse my telling you in two words that I arrived last night. I am laid up with a very painful fit of the gout in both my feet. I came over from Calais with some difficulty; yet I rejoice that I am in my own library, and three hundred miles nearer _you_ than I was a week ago. I think it cannot last long.

I am, Dear Madam,
Most truly,
E. G.

324.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

[Bentinck Street,] Saturday, [November, 1777.]

*Had you four horns as well as four eyes and four hands, I should still maintain that you are the most unreasonable Monster in the Creation. My pain is lively, my weakness excessive, the season cold, and only twelve days remain to the meeting. Far from thinking of trips into the Country, I shall be well satisfied if I am on my legs the 20th, in the medical sense of the word. At present I am a Corpse, carried about by four arms which do not belong to me. Yet I try to smile: I salute the hen and chickens. Adieu. Writing is really painful.*

325.

_To his Stepmother._

Bentinck Street, Nov. 13th, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

As my disorder was perfectly free from danger, I thought it needless to repeat _every_ post, that I was in a good deal of pain: but I seize the first opportunity of telling you that the enemy appears to be raising the siege, and that he makes a regular and gradual retreat: the pain is gone, the swellings diminished, my strength is returning; this morning for the first time I enjoyed the luxury of using crutches, and I aspire to the superior luxury of throwing them away. In the course of my recovery you may depend on my prudence. Adieu! dear Madam, I sincerely envy your loving couple: but be pleased to remember that _they_ are only twenty.

I am
Most truly yours,
E. GIBBON.

326.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Friday, November 14th, 1777.

*I do not like this disorder on your eyes: and when I consider your temperance and activity, I cannot understand why any spring of the machine should ever be deranged. With regard to myself, the Gout has behaved in a very honourable manner; after a compleat conquest, and after making me feel his power for some days, the generous Enemy has disdained to abuse his victory or torment any longer an unresisting victim. He has already ceased to torture the lower extremities of your humble servant; the swelling is so amazingly diminished that they are no longer above twice their ordinary size. Yesterday I moved about the room with the laborious majesty of crutches; to-day I have exchanged them for a stick; and by the beginning of next week, I hope, with due precaution, to take the air and to inure myself for the interesting representation of Thursday. How cursedly unlucky! I wanted to see you both; a thousand things to say and to hear, and every scheme of that kind broke to pieces. If you are not able to come to Bentinck Street, I must contrive to steal three or four vacant days during the Session, and run down to Sheffield. The town fills, and I begin to have numerous levers and couchers, more properly the latter. We are still in expectation, but in the mean while we believe (I mean Ministers) that the news of Howe's victory and the taking of Philadelphia are true.[374] Adieu.*

[374] General (afterwards Sir William) Howe defeated Washington
at Brandywine on September 11, 1777, and took possession of
Philadelphia on the 27th.

327.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Saturday Night, 30th November, 1777.

Your feaver, rhumatism, confinement and the use of a strange hand make me very uneasy. If I thought I could be of any use, I would in spite of Parliament[375] immediately run down; but I do most heartily advise, beg and intreat that, as soon as you are fit for motion, you would come to town, and consult about the best method of putting an end to this tedious complaint. For myself, I have almost forgot the gout. No alteration as to the public: Much debating, little hopes and no news. Your Inn business I will skilfully manage either in person, or by my faithful Minister, and you may depend on the earliest account of it. You asked about the Highlander: he is still in his mountains. I fear Mrs. G. expects me at Christmas, but I _really_ prefer Sheffield, and will try to defer the Bath journey till Easter. Do not however reckon upon my success. Adieu.

[375] The Parliamentary session opened on November 18.

[Sidenote: WEARY OF THE WAR.]

328.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

Monday night, December, 1777.

*I congratulate your noble firmness, as I suppose it must arise from the knowledge of some hidden resources which will enable us to open the next Campaign with new armies of 50 or 60,000 men. But I believe you will find yourself obliged to carry on this glorious War almost alone. It would be idle to dispute any more about politics, as we shall so soon have an opportunity of a personal combat. Your journey gives me some hopes that you have not entirely lost your reason.* Your bed shall be ready. Caplin has conversed with your Tenant, but his demands were certainly excuses, as he has given over all thoughts of the enterprize: possibly you may be more successful. Adieu. I do not embrace My lady, as she seems to decline accompanying you. Her conduct is shameful and unnatural.

329.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

December 2nd, 1777.

By the enclosed you will see that America is not _yet_ Conquered. Opposition are very lively,[376] and though in the house we keep our numbers, there seems to be a universal desire of peace even on the most humble conditions. Are you still fierce?

[376] Lord Chatham, in the House of Lords, moved an amendment
to the address, that the army should be recalled, the late Acts
rescinded, and every effort used to reunite with America. The
same motion was made in the Lower House. But the amendments
were rejected by large majorities in both Houses. On December
2, Fox moved for a committee of the whole House to inquire into
the state of the nation, including the expenses and resources
of the nation, the loss of men, the state of trade, the present
situation of the war, our foreign relations, and the progress
made by the Commissioners in bringing about peace. Lord North
accepted the motion, and the committee sat for the first time
on February 2, 1778. Parliament was adjourned from December 11,
1777, to January 20, 1778.

[Sidenote: SARATOGA.]

330.

_To J. B. Holroyd, Esq._

House of Commons, Thursday, Dec. 4th, 1777.

Dreadful news indeed. You will see them partly in the papers, and we have not yet any particulars. An English army of nearly 10,000 men laid down their arms and surrendered prisoners of war, on condition of being sent to England and of never serving against America.[377] They had fought bravely, and were three days without eating. Burgoyne is said to have received three wounds. General Frazer[378] with 2000 men, killed. Colonel Ackland[379] likewise killed. A general cry for peace. Adieu. We have constant late days.

[377] General Burgoyne, after capturing Ticonderoga, pushed
forwards towards the Hudson River, intending to invade the United
States from the side of Canada. His supplies began to fail. The
American forces gathered at Saratoga, and after several days'
fighting, surrounded the British troops, whose strength was
reduced to three thousand five hundred men. On October 17, 1777,
Burgoyne surrendered to General Gates.

[378] Simon Fraser had served under Wolfe at Quebec with the
Fraser Highlanders, and commanded a brigade during Burgoyne's
campaign. Mortally wounded on October 7, 1777, he died October
8, and was buried, under a heavy fire, in one of the British
redoubts.

[379] John Dyke Acland, best known by the devotion of his wife,
Lady Harriet, was wounded and taken prisoner at Saratoga (October
9). He died in October, 1778, from a cold caught at a duel on
Bampton Down, in Devonshire. He was then M.P. for Callington, in
Cornwall.

[Sidenote: DESPAIRS OF COERCING AMERICA.]

331.

_To his Stepmother._

Bentinck Street, December 16th, 1777.

DEAR MADAM,

I flatter myself that my long silence must have given you great satisfaction. You recollect that while I was under the tyranny of the Gout, I showed myself tolerably exact in sending you intelligence of my situation and improvement. From my silence therefore, you must have concluded that I am, now, as indeed I am, restored to public health, and once more engaged in the busy as well as idle dissipations of this great town. I jumped at once from a sick chair into the warmest debates, which I ever remember in my short parliamentary life. They have constantly been fed by our miserable news from America, and the Session after the holydays will be taken up by Committees on the state of the Nation, Enquiries into the conduct of Ministers and Generals, &c., which will at least serve to increase the public ferment. What will be the resolutions of our Governors I know not, but I shall scarcely give my consent to exhaust still further the finest country in the World in the prosecution of a war from whence no reasonable man entertains any hopes of success. It is better to be humbled than ruined.

Half my acquaintance, Lady Dy, Lady Payne, the Solicitor General,[380] &c., are running down to Bath for the holydays. Had I no other inducement I should certainly escape from the crowd, and employ that short interval of quiet in resuming my long neglected History. Those literary occupations however I would gladly sacrifice to the pleasure of seeing you, but I apprehend I shall be engaged to prefer the Sussex to the Bath journey by some reasons which I will fairly submit to your judgement.

1. Holroyd, as you must have learned from his sister, is in a very indifferent state of health. His eyes are affected, his spirits are low, he has been disappointed of other company and he entreats me in a very moving way not to abandon him on this occasion.

2. I wish to pass some time with him on my own account, and to consult him with regard to Buriton, which is, I fear, very indifferently treated by my tenant Winton.

3. I expect, without knowing the day, a French lady of quality, Madame de Genlis,[381] to whom I have very great obligations. Whenever she informs me of her arrival in London, I must instantly fly (on the wings of mere friendship) to receive and attend her: now it would be somewhat vexatious to travel an hundred and ten miles, and to be called away the next day. Determine for me, my dear friend, you have every tye upon me of promise, of gratitude and of inclination. If you are not perfectly satisfied with my positive engagement to pass the Easter recess with you, depend upon it I will break through every difficulty that detains me at present. I have a thousand things to hear and say, and I know that you will enjoy, what I could not perhaps say to others without incurring the censure of vanity. If the Goulds are at Bath, I beg to be remembered to them. I see your friend Mr. Melmoth[382] has published a translation of another piece of Tully: on a subject which you understand at least as well as either of them. It will be worth your reading, for the treatise is valuable and he is an elegant as well as faithful translator.

I am, Dear Madam,
Ever yours,
E. G.

[380] Wedderburn.