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.

But let us turn from this melancholy subject.--The man of the people[124] escaped from the tumult, the bloody tumult of the Westminster Election,[125] to the lakes and mountains of Switzerland, and I was informed that he was arrived at the Lyon d'Or. I sent a compliment; he answered it in person;* we returned together to the Inn, brought away the fair Mrs. Armstead,[126] *and settled at my house for the remainder of the day. I have eat and drank, and conversed and sat up all night with Fox in England; but it never has happened, perhaps it never can happen again, that I should enjoy him as I did that day, alone,* for his fair Companion was a cypher,* from ten in the morning till ten at night. Poor Deyverdun, before his accident, wanted spirits to appear, and has regretted it since. Our conversation never flagged a moment; and he seemed thoroughly pleased with the place and with his Company. We had little politicks; though he gave me, in a few words, such a character of Pitt, as one great man should give of another his rival: much of books, from my own, on which he flattered me very pleasantly, to Homer and the Arabian nights; much about the country, my garden (which he understands far better than I do), and, upon the whole, I think he envies me, and would do so were he Minister. The next morning I gave him a guide to walk him about the town and country, and invited some company to meet him at dinner. The following day he continued his journey to Berne and Zurich, and I have heard of him by various means. The people gaze on him as a prodigy, but he shows little inclination to converse with them.* The wit and beauty of his Companion are not sufficient to excuse the scandalous impropriety of shewing her to all Europe, and you will not easily conceive how he has lost himself in the public opinion, which was already more favourable to his Rival. Will Fox never know the importance of character?

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

After this long letter I have yet many things to say, though none of any pressing consequence. I hope you are not idle in the deliverance of Buriton, though the late events and edicts in France begin to reconcile me to the possession of dirty acres. What think you of Necker[128] and the States generals? Are not the public expectations sanguine? Adieu. I will write soon to My Lady separately, though I have not any particular subject for her ear.

Ever yours,* E. GIBBON.

[124] C. J. Fox.

[125] In 1788, on a by-election caused by Lord Hood's acceptance of office as one of the Commissioners of the Admiralty, Lord John Townshend won the seat against Hood. In Bond Street there was a battle between Lord Hood's sailors and the Irish chairmen and butcher-boys. Several were killed and wounded.

[126] Charles James Fox married Elizabeth Bridget Cane, otherwise Mrs. Armitstead, at Wyton, Huntingdonshire, on September 28, 1795. She survived her husband. In 1799, on his fiftieth birthday (January 24), Fox addressed to her the following lines:--

"Of years I have now half a century past, And none of the fifty so blessed as the last. How it happens my troubles thus daily should cease, And my happiness thus with my years should increase, This defiance of nature's more general laws You alone can explain, who alone are the cause."

[127] Sylvester Douglas, afterwards Lord Glenbervie (1743-1823), who married, in September, 1789, Catherine, eldest daughter of Lord North. He was educated at Leyden as a doctor, a circumstance to which Sheridan alludes in the lines--

"Glenbervie, Glenbervie, What's good for the scurvey? For ne'er be your old trade forgot."

He became a barrister, reported in the King's Bench, and was made a K.C. After his marriage he left the Bar for a political career, and held several minor appointments.

[128] Brienne retired to Italy in August, 1788, and Necker was recalled in the same month. He at once took steps for summoning the States-General which met at Versailles, May 4, 1789.

536.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Nov. 29, 1788.

[Sidenote: INSANITY OF GEORGE III.]

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

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

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

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

[129] In the summer of 1788 George III. showed symptoms of mental derangement; but he had signed a warrant for the further prorogation of Parliament from September 25 to November 20. In that interval he grew rapidly worse, and was placed under restraint. The evidence of the king's physicians was laid before the Privy Council and Parliament, and a motion was made in the Lower House for a committee to search for precedents of proceedings in the case of the interruption or suspension of the royal authority. Pitt, on December 16, 1788, moved three resolutions: (1) that the personal exercise of the royal authority was interrupted; (2) that the two Houses have the right to supply this defect of the royal authority; (3) that it was necessary to determine the means by which, during the continuance of the king's incapacity, the royal assent should be given to bills passed by the two Houses. The resolutions were carried in both Houses. The plan of a regency was then submitted to the Prince of Wales, and five resolutions embodying the scheme were proposed and carried in January, 1789. On February 5, 1789, the Regency Bill was introduced in the House of Commons, carried, and sent up to the Lords. It was still under discussion when, on February 19, the Lord Chancellor announced the king's convalescence, and further proceedings were suspended.

537.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Dec. 13, 1788.

[Sidenote: DEATH OF HUGONIN.]

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

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

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

We are now cold and gay at Lausanne. The Severys came to town Yesterday. I saw a good deal of Lords Malmsbury[130] and Beauchamp and their Ladies; Ellis,[131] of the Rolliad, was with them; I like him much: I gave them a great dinner.

Adieu for the present. Deyverdun is not worse.*

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

[130] James, first Earl of Malmesbury, the distinguished diplomatist, married Harriet Mary, daughter of Sir G. Amyand, Bart.

[131] George Ellis (1753-1815) is best known for his _Specimens of the Early English Poets_ (1790) and his _Specimens of Early English Romances in Metre_ (1805). He was, wrote Sir Walter Scott, "the first converser I ever saw. His patience and good breeding made me often ashamed of myself, going off at score upon some favourite topic." To him Scott addresses the lines in the fifth canto of _Marmion_, beginning--

"Thou who canst give to lightest lay An unpedantic moral gay," etc.

He had been employed in diplomatic work by Lord Malmesbury at the Hague in 1784, and accompanied him for the same purpose to the Lille Conference in 1797. He was at this time travelling on the Continent with Lord and Lady Malmesbury. The lines on Pitt in Number ii. of the _Rolliad_ are attributed to him--

"Pert without fire, without experience sage, Young, with more art than Shelburne glean'd from age, Too proud from pilfer'd greatness to descend, Too humble not to call Dundas his friend, In solemn dignity and sullen state, This new Octavius rises to debate!" etc., etc.

538.

_To Lord Sheffield._

December 31st, 1788.

[Sidenote: HUGONIN'S DISHONESTY.]

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

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

Ever yours, E. G.

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

539.

_To Lord Sheffield._

Lausanne, Feb. 4th, 1789.

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

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

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

[Sidenote: DEYVERDUN'S SECOND ATTACK.]

Of my