Chapter VIII: Part 8

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.*

[Sidenote: 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.

[113] Lord Sheffield had let his house in Downing Street to the
Duchess of Gordon. "The Duchess of Gordon will dance my house in
Downing Street down" (Lord Sheffield to William Eden, February
27, 1787: _Auckland Correspondence_, vol. i. p. 405).

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.*

[114] "I went to London," writes Lord Sheffield to William Eden
from Sheffield Place, on August 22, 1787, "for a few days to
conduct the Gibbon to this place. The Gibbon is settled here till
winter; he will reside with us in Downing Street in winter and
spring. The three quartos will appear in the spring, but as to
remaining in this country, he has not the slightest notion of it.
I have not yet succeeded in infusing a proper political zeal into
him" (_Lord Auckland's Journal and Correspondence_, vol. i. pp.
435, 436).

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,

[Sidenote: 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,

[Sidenote: 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.

[115] Charles Alexandre de Calonne (1734-1802) was
Director-General of Finances from 1783 to 1787. By his advice
the Assembly of Notables was convened on February 22, 1787.
He laid before it the financial condition of the kingdom, and
proposed, among other measures, a land tax, the taxation of the
lands of the clergy, and, generally, the equalization of public
burdens. So great was the clamour against him, that in April he
resigned and took refuge in England. "I am entertained," writes
Lord Sheffield to William Eden, November 2, 1787, "with the
reception Calonne meets with in London. Lately he was the most
terrible peculator" (_Auckland Correspondence_, vol. i. p. 444).
He was succeeded by Cardinal de Brienne, Archbishop of Toulouse,
afterwards Archbishop of Sens.

[116] Wilhelm de Severy, the son of Gibbon's friends at Lausanne,
had, at his suggestion, paid a visit to England.

[117] John Gibbon, the herald, was Bluemantle Pursuivant at Arms,
1671-1718. He died August 2, 1718.

516.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Monday afternoon, 1787.

[Sidenote: 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.

[118] M. Wilhelm de Severy.

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.

[Sidenote: 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.

[Sidenote: 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,

[Sidenote: 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 history[119] 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.

[119] Vols. iv., v., and vi. of the _Decline and Fall_ were
published in April, 1788.

[120] The preface to the last three volumes of the _Decline
and Fall of the Roman Empire_ contained the following eulogium
on Lord North: "Were I ambitious of any other Patron than the
public, I would inscribe this work to a Statesman, who, in a
long, a stormy, and at length an unfortunate administration,
had many political opponents, almost without a personal enemy;
who has retained, in his fall from power, many faithful and
disinterested friends; and who, under the pressure of severe
infirmity, enjoys the lively vigour of his mind, and the felicity
of his incomparable temper. Lord North will permit me to express
the feelings of friendship in the language of truth; but even
truth and friendship should be silent, if he still dispensed the
favours of the Crown."

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).

[Sidenote: 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 Tuft[121] 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.*

[121] Lady Sheffield's lapdog.

[122] "We were kept in London about twelve days by Mr. Sheridan's
speeches. One day would have sufficed me, who have heard many
long speeches: but the ladies rebelled, the Gibbon supported
them, and thus we were detained till towards the middle of June"
(Lord Sheffield to William Eden, July 29, 1788: _Lord Auckland's
Journal and Correspondence_, vol. ii. p. 219).

[123] The trial of Warren Hastings began in Westminster Hall
on February 13, 1788. Sheridan's speech on the Begums of Oudh
was delivered on June 3, 6, 10, and 13. The trial was adjourned
on June 14 till the following session. "Mr. Sheridan," writes
Horace Walpole, June 5, 1788, "I hear, did not quite satisfy
the passionate expectation that had been raised; but it was
impossible he could, when people had worked themselves into an
enthusiasm of offering fifty--ay, _fifty_ guineas for a ticket
to hear him." Macaulay's account of Sheridan's knowledge of
stage-effect, and of his sinking back, "as if exhausted, into the
arms of Burke," is based on this letter of Gibbon. Sir Gilbert
Elliot, however (_Life and Letters_, vol. i. pp. 206-219), gives
a different account. "Burke caught him in his arms as he sat
down, which was not the least affecting part of the day to my
feelings, and could not be the least grateful testimony of his
merit received by Sheridan. I have myself enjoyed that embrace
on such an occasion, and know its value." In his speech, as
reported in the _Morning Chronicle_ for June 14, 1788, Sheridan
said that "nothing equal in criminality was to be traced either
in ancient or modern history, in the correct periods of Tacitus
or the luminous page of Gibbon." The story, told by Moore in
his _Memoirs_ of Sheridan, that the orator really used the word
"voluminous," is repudiated by Mr. Fraser Rae (_Sheridan_, vol.
ii. p. 69).

529.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Downing-street, June 21st, 1788.

[Sidenote: 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.

[Sidenote: 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,

[Sidenote: 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_.

[Sidenote: 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.