LI BRARY OF PRiNCETO M JAN - T 2003 THEQLCGICAL $E^'^NARY Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/autobiographyofeOOgibb_0 THE AUTO-BIOGRAPHY or / EDWARD GIBBOI, ESQ., ILLUSTRATED FROM HIS LETTERS, WITH OCCASIONAL NOTES AND NARRATIVES. BY JOHN, LORD SHEFFIELD. COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. NEW- YORK : TURNER & HAYDEN. PIERCT AND REED, PRINTKRS, 9 SPRUCE STREET. 1846. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS The melancholy duty of examining the papers of my deceased friend devolved upon me at a time when I was depressed by severe afflictions. In that state of mind, I hesitated to undertake the task of selecting and preparing his manuscripts for the press. The warmth of my early and long attachment to Mr. Gibbon made me conscious of a partiality, which it was not proper to indulge, especially in revising many of his juvenile and unfinished compositions. I had to guard, not only against a sentiment like my own, which I found extensively diffused, but also against the eagerness occa- sioned by a very general curiosity to see in print every literary relic, however imperfect, of so distinguished a writer. Being aware how disgracefully authors of eminence have been often treated, by an indiscreet posthumous publication of fragments and careless effusions ; when I had selected those papers which to myself appeared the INTBODUCTORY REMARKS. fittest for the public eye, I consulted some of our common friends, whom I knew to be equally anxious with myself for Mr. Gibbon's fame, and fully competent, from their judgment, to protect it. Under such a sanction it is, that, no longer suspecting myself to view through too favorable a medium the com- positions of my friend, I now venture to publish them ; and it may here be proper to give some information to the reader, respecting the Memoirs of Mr. Gibbon's life and writings, a work which he seems to have projected with peculiar soUcitude and attention, and of which he left six different sketches, all in his own hand-writing. One of these sketches, the most diffuse and circumstantial, so far as it proceeds, ends at the time when he quitted Oxford. Another at the year 1764, when he travelled to Italy. A third, at his father's death, in 1770. A fourth, which he continued to a short time after his return to Lausanne in 1788, appears in the form of Annals, much less detailed than the others. The two remaining sketches are still more imperfect. It is difficult to discover the order in which these several pieces were written, but there is reason to believe that the most copious was the last. From all these the following Memoirs have been carefully selected, and put together. My hesitation in giving these Memoirs to the world, arose principally from the circumstance of Mr. Gibbon's appearing, in some respect, not to have been satisfied with them, as he had so frequently varied their fofm : yet, notwithstanding this diffidence, the compositions, though unfinished, are so excellent, that they may justly entitle my friend to appear as his own biographer, rathei INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. than to have that task undertaken by any other person less qualified for it. This opinion has rendered me anxioiiw to publish the present Memoirs, without any unnecessary delay ; for I am persuaded that the author of them cannot be made to appear in a truer light than he does in the following pages. In them, and in his different Letters which I have added, will be found a complete picture of his talents, his disposition, his studies, and his attainments. Those slight variations of character, which naturally arose in the progress of his life, will be unfolded in a series of Letters, selected from a correspondence between him and myself, which continued full thirty years, and ended with his death. It is to be lamented, that the sketches of the Memoirs, except that composed in the form of Annals, and which seems rather designed as heads for a future work, cease about twenty years before Mr. Gibbon's death ; and consequently, that we have the least detailed account of the most interesting part of his life. His correspondence during that period, will, in great measure, supply the de- ficiency. By many, the Letters will be found a very interesting part of the present publication. They will prove how pleasant, friendly, and amiable Mr. Gibbon was in private life ; and if, in publishing letters so flat- tering to myself, I incur the imputation of vanity, I shall meet the charge with a frank confession that I am indeed highly vain of having enjoyed, for so many years, the esteem, the confidence, and the affection of a man, whose social qualities endeared him to the most accomplished society, and whose talents, great as they were, must be INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. acknowledged to have been fully equalled by the sin- cerity of his friendship. Whatever censure may be pointed against the editor, the public will set a due value on the Letters for their intrinsic merit. I must, indeed, be blinded, either by vanity or affection, if they do not display the heart and mind of their author, in such a manner as justly to in- crease the number of his admirers. I have not been solicitous to garble or expunge pas- sages which, to some, may appear trifling. Such pas- sages will often, in the opinion of the deserving reader, mark the character of the writer, and the omission of them would materially take from the ease and familiarity of authentic letters. Few men, I believe, have ever so fully unveiled their own character, by a minute narrative of their sentiments and pursuits, as Mr. Gibbon will here be found to have done ; not with study and labor — not with an affected frankness, but with a genuine confession of his little foibles and peculiarities, and a good-humored and natural display of his own conduct and opinions. I will close all I mean to say, as the editor of these Memoirs, by assuring the reader, that, although I have in some measure newly arranged those interesting papers, by forming one regular narrative from the six different sketches, I have nevertheless adhered with scrupulous fidelity to the very words of their author ; and I use the letter S. to mark such notes of my own, as it seemed necessary to add. It remains only to express a wish, that in discharging this latest office of affection, my regard to the memory of INTRODUCrOIlY REMARKS. my friend may appear, as I trust it will do, proportioned to the high satisfaction which I enjoyed for many years in possessing his entire confidence, and very partial attachment. SHEFFIELD. Sheffield Place, Gth Aug., 1795. CONTEITS The Author's Introduction, - - - CHAPTER I. Account and Anecdotes of his Family, CHAPTER 11. The South Sea Scheme, . . - CHAPTER m. Character of Mr. William Law, CHAPTER IV. Mr. Gibbon's Birth, &c., . - - CHAPTER V. The Author is sent to Dr. Wooddeson's School, CHAPTER VI. Mr. Gibbon is entered at Westminster School, CHAPTER VII. The Author enters Magdalen College, Oxford, CHAPTER VIII. The Author's first attempt at writing History, CHAPTER IX. The Author removes to Lausanne, CHAPTER X. The Author's account of the Books he read, - CHAPTER XL The Author's Tour in Switzerland, CONTENTS. CHAPTER XII. Mademoiselle Curchod — afterwards Madame Necker, - - 98 CHAPTER XIII Mr. Gibbon publishes his first Work, - - - - 115 CHAPTER XIV. The Author in the Hampshire Militia, - - . 125 CHAPTER XV. The Author resumes his Studies, . - - - 136 CHAPTER XVI. Mr. Gibbon at Paris, - - - - - - 146 CHAPTER XVII. Mr. Gibbon prepares for his Italian Journey, - - - 162 CHAPTER XVIII. Mr. Gibbon's Tour in Italy, ----- 165 CHAPTER XIX. I Mr. Gibbon commences a Periodical, - - - - 177 CHAPTER XX. Mr. Gibbon settles in London, - - - - 188 CHAPTER XXI.^ Mr. Gibbon engages in Politics, . _ _ . 204 CHAPTER XXII. The Author proceeds with his History, - - - 212 CHAPTER XXIII. The Author visits Sheffield, - - - - - 224 CHAPTER XXIV. Mr. Gibbon publishes the remainder of his History, - - 227 CHAPTER XXV. Death of Mr. Deyverdun, ----- 235 CHAPTER XXVI. Observations on the French Revolution, - - - 237 Narrative continued by Lord Sheffield, ... 245 Letters from Edward Gibbon, Esq. to Lord Sheffield and others, 207 AUTO-BIO&RAPHY OF EDWARD GIBBOI, ESQ. MEMOIRS OF MY LIFE AND WRITIiaS. In the fifty-second year of my age, after the comple- tion of an arduous and successful work, I now propose to employ some moments of my leisure in reviewing the simple transactions of a private and literary life. Truth, naked, unblushing truth, the first virtue of more serious history, must be the sole recommendation of this personal narrative. The style shall be simple and familiar ; but style is the image of character ; and the habits of correct writing may produce, without labor or design, the ap- pearance of art and study. My own amusement is my motive, and will be my reward ; and if these sheets are communicated to some discreet and indulgent friends, they will be secreted from the public eye till the author shall be removed beyond the reach of criticism or ridicule.* THE AUTHOR'S INTRODUCTION. * This passage is fouud in one only of the six sketches, and in that which seems to have been the first written, and which was laid aside among loose 2 MEMOIRS OF MY LIFE AND WRITINGS. A lively desire of knowing and of recording our ances- tors so generally prevails, that it must depend on the influ- ence of some common principle in the minds of men. We seem to have lived in the persons of our forefathers ; it is the labor and reward of vanity to extend the term of this ideal longevity. Our imagination is always active to enlarge the narrow circle in which nature has confined us. Fifty or a hundred years may be allotted to an indi- vidual, but we step forwards beyond death with such hopes as religion and philosophy will suggest ; and we fill up the silent vacancy that precedes our birth, by asso- ciating ourselves to the authors of our existence. Our calmer judgment will rather tend to moderate, than to suppress, the pride of an ancient and worthy race. The satirist may laugh, the philosopher may preach ; but Reason herself will respect the prejudices and habits, which have been consecrated by the experience of mankind. Wherever the distinction of birth is allowed to form a superior order in the state, education and example should always, and will often, produce among them a dignity of papers. Mr. Gibbon, in bis communications with me on the subject of his Memoirs, a subject which he had never mentioned to any other person, ex- pressed a determination of pubhshing them in his lifetime; and never ap- pears to have departed from that resolution, excepting in one of his letters amiexed, in which he intimates a doubt, though rather carelessly, whether in his time, or at any time, they would meet the eye of the public. In a convei-sation, however, not long before his death, it was suggested to him, that, if he should make them a full image of his mind, he would not have nerves to publish them in his lifetime, and therefore that they should be posthumous. He answered, rather eagerly, that he was determined to publish them in his lifetime. — iS. MEMOIRS OF MY LIFE AND WRITINGS. 3 sentiment, and propriety of conduct, which is guarded from dishonour by their own and the pubhc esteem. If we read of some illustrious'hne so ancient that it has no beginning, so worthy that it ought to have no end, we sym- pathise in its various fortunes ; nor can we blame the generous enthusiasm, or even the harmless vanity, of those who are allied to the honours of its name. For my own part, could I draw my pedigree from a general, a statesman, )yepeTa Zevj, the cloud-compelling Jove ; and in a con- versation with the ingenious Abbe (afterwards Cardinal) de Polignac, he freely disclosed his universal Pyrrhonism. " I am most truly (said Bayle) a Protestant ; for I protest indifferently against all systems and all sects." The academical resentment, which 1 may possibly have provoked, will prudently spare this plain narrative of my studies, or rather of my idleness, and of the unfor- tunate event which shortened the term of my residence at Oxford. But it may be suggested, that my father was unlucky in the choice of a society, and the chance of a tutor. It will perhaps be asserted, that, in the lapse of forty years, many improvements have taken place in the college and in the university. I am not unwilling to be- lieve, that some tutors might have been found more active than Dr.Waldegrave, and less contemptible than Dr.* * * *. About the same time, and in the same walk, a Bentham 68 THE AUTHOR'S FIRST ATTEMPT was Still treading in the footsteps of a Burton, whose maxims he had adopted, and whose hfe he had published. The biographer indeed preferred the school logic to the new philosophy, Burgursdicius to Locke ; and the hero appears, in his own writings, a stiff and conceited pedant. Yet even these men, according to the measure of their capacity, might be diligent and useful ; and it is recorded of Burton, that he taught his pupils what he knew ; some Latin, some Greek, some ethics and meta- physics ; referring them to proper masters for the lan- guages and sciences of which he was ignorant. At a more recent period, many students have been attracted by the merit and reputation of Sir William Scott, then a tutor in University College, and now con-spicuous in *he profession of the civil law ; my personal acquaintance with that gentleman has inspired me with a just esteem for his abilities and knowledge ; and I am assured that his lectures on history would compose, were they given to the public, a most valuable treatise. Under the auspices of the present Archbishop of York, Dr. Markham, him- self an eminent scholar, a more regular discipline has been introduced, as I am told, at Christ Church;* a * This was written on the information Mr. Gibbon had received, and tho observation he had made, previous to liis late residence at Lausanne. During his last visit to England, he had an opportunity of seeing at Shef- field Place some young men of the college above alluded to ; he had great satisfaction in conversing with ihem, made many enquiries respecting their course of study, applauded the discipline of Christ Church, and the hberal attention shown by the Dean, to tht)se whose only recommendation was their merit. Had Mr. Gibbon lived to revise tliis work, I am sure he would have mentioned the name of Dr. Jackson with the liig'hest commendation, and also that of Dr. Bagot, Bishop of St. Asaph, whose attention to tho AT WRITING HISTORY. 69 course of classical and philosophical studies is proposed, and even pursued, in that numerous seminary ; learning has been made a duty, a pleasure, and even a fashion ; and several young gentlemen do honour to the college in which they have been educated. According to the will of the donor, the profit of the second part of Lord Cla- rendon's History has been applied to the establishment of a riding-school, that the polite exercises might be taught, I know not with what success, in the university. The Vinerian professorship is of far more serious impor- dnties of his ofBce while he was Dean of Christ Church College were unre- mitted. There are other colleges at Oxford, with whose discipline my friend was unacquainted, to which, without doubt, he would willingly have allowed their due praise , particularly Brazen Nose and Oriel Colleges; the former under the care of Dr. Cleaver, Bishop of Chester, the latter under that of Dr. Eveleigh. It is still greatly to be wished that the general expense, or rather extravagance, of young men at our Eughsh universities, may be more effectually restrained. The expense , in which they are per- mitted to indulge, is inconsisteat not only with a necessary degree of study, but with those habits of morality which should be promoted, by all means possible, at an early period of life. An academical education in England is at present an object of alarm and terror to every thinking parent of mode- rate fortune. It is the apprehension of the expense, of the dissipation, and other evil consequences, which arise from the want of proper restraint at our own universities, that forces a number of our English youths to those of Scotland, and utterly excludes many from any sort of academical instruction. If a charge be true, which I have heard insisted on, that the heads of our col- leges in Oxford and Cambridge are vain of ha\-ing under their care chiefly men of opulence, who may be supposed exempt from the necessity of economical control, they are indeed highly censurable : since the mischief of allowing early habits of expense and dissipation is great, in various respects, even to those possessed of large property ; and the most serious evil from this indulgence must happen to youths of humbler fortune, who certainly form the majority of students both at Oxford and Cambridge. — S. 70 AUTHOR'S FIRST ATTEMPT AT WRITING HISTORY, tance ; the laws of his country are the first science of an Englishman of rank and fortune, who is called to be a magistrate, and may hope to be a legislator. This judi- cious institution was coldly entertained by the graver doctors, who complained (I have heard the complaint) that it would take the young people from their books : but Mr. Viner's benefaction is not unprofitable, since it has at least produced the excellent Commentaries of Sir "William Blackstone. CHAP. IX. THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. After carrying me to Putney, to the house of his friend, Mr. Mallet,* by whose philosophy I was rathei scandalized than reclaimed, it was necessary for my fa- ther to form a new plan of education, and to devise some method wliich, if possible, might effect the cure of my spiritual malady. After much debate it was determined, from the advice and personal experience of Mr. Elliot (now Lord Elliot), to fix me, during some years, at Lau- sanne, in Switzerland. Mr. Frey, a Swiss gentleman of Basle, undertook the conduct of the journey: we left London the 19th of June, crossed the sea from Dover to Calais, travelled post through several provinces of France, by the direct road of St. Quentin, Rheims, Langres, and Besangon, and arrived the 30th of June at Lausanne, where I was immediately settled under the roof and tuition of Mr. Pavilliai'd, a calvinist minister. The first marks of my father's displeasure rather asto- nished than afflicted me : when he threatened to banish, and disown, and disinherit a rebellious son, I cherished a secret hope that he would not be able or willing to effect * The author of a life of Bacon, which has been rated above its value ; of some forgotteu poems and plays; and of the pathetic ballad of Williaia and Margaret.— S. 72 THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. his menaces ; and the pride of conscience encouraged me to sustain the honourable and important part which I was now acting. My spirits were raised and kept aUve by the rapid motion of my journey, the new and various scenes of the Continent, and the civility of Mr. Frey, a man of sense, who was not ignorant of books or the world. But after he had resigned me into PavilUard's hands, and I was fixed in my new habitation, I had leisure to contemplate the strange and melancholy pros- pect before me. My first complaint arose from my ignorance of the language. In my childhood I had once studied the French grammar, and I could imperfectly understand the easy prose of a familiar subject. But when I was thus suddenly cast on a foreign land, I found myself deprived of the use of speech and of hearing ; and, during some weeks, incapable not only of enjoying the pleasures of conversation, but even of asking or answer- ing a question in the common intercourse of life. To a home-bred Englishman every object, every custom was offensive ; but the native of any country might have been disgusted with the general aspect of his lodging and entertainment. I had now exchanged my elegant apart- ment in Magdalen College for a narrow, gloomy street, the most unfrequented of an unhandsome town, for an old inconvenient house, and for a small chartber ill-con- trived and ill-furnished, which, on the approach of winter, instead of a companionable fire, must be warmed by the dull and invisible heat of a stove. From a man I was again degraded to the dependence of a school-boy. Mr. Pavil- liard managed my expenses, which had been reduced to a diminjtive state : I received a small monthly allowance THE AUTHOR REMOVICS TO LAUSANNK. 73 for my pocket-money ; and helpless and awkward as 1 have ever been, I no longer enjoyed the indispensable comfort of a servant. My condition seemed as destitute ol hope, as it was devoid of pleasure : I was separated for an indefinite, which appeared an infinite, term from my native country ; and I had lost all connexion with my catholic friends. I have since reflected with surprise, that as the Romish clergy of every part of Europe maintain a close correspondence with each other, they never attempted, by letters or messages, to rescue me from the hands of the heretics, or at least to confirm my zeal and constancy in the profession of the faith. Such was my first introduc- tion to Lausanne ; a place wl^-e I spent nearly five years with pleasure and profit, which I afterwards revisited without compulsion, and which I have finally selected as the most grateful retreat for the decline of my life. But it is the peculiar felicity of youth that the most unpleasing objects and events seldom make a deep or last- ing impression ; it forgets the past, enjoys the present, and anticipates the future. At the flexible age ot sixteen I soon learned to endure, and gradually to adopt, the new forms of arbitrary manners : the real hardships of my situation were alienated by time. Had I been sent abroad in a more splendid style, such as the fortune and bounty of my father might have supplied, I might have returned home with the same stock of language and science, which our countrymen usually import from the continent. An exile and a prisoner as I was, their example betrayed me into some irregularites of wine, of play, and of idle excursions : but I soon felt the impos- sibility of associating with them on equal terms ; and 74 THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. after the departure of my first acquaintance, I held a cold and civil correspondence w^ith their successors. This seclusion from English society was attended with the most solid • benefits. * In the Pays de Vaud, the French language is used with less imperfection than in most of the distant provinces of France : in Pavilliard's family, necessity compelled me to listen and to speak ; and if I was at first disheartened by the apparent slowness, in a few months I was astonished by the rapidity of my pro- gress. My pronunciation was formed by the constant repetition of the same sounds ; the variety of words and idioms, the rules of grammar, and distinctions of genders, were impressed in my meij|^ory : ease and freedom were obtained by practice ; correctness and elegance by la- bour ; and before I was recalled home, French, in which I spontaneously thought, was more familiar than English to my ear, my tongue, and my pen. The first effect of this opening knowledge was the revival of my love of reading, which had been chilled at Oxford ; and I soon turned over, without much choice, almost all the French books in my tutor's library. Even these amusements were productive of real advantage : my taste and judg- ment were now somewhat riper, 1 was introduced to a new mode of style and literature : by the comparison of manners and opinions, my views were enlarged, my prejudices were corrected, and a copious voluntary ab- stract of the Histoire de I'Eglise et de I'Empire, by Le Sueur, may be placed in a middle line between my childish and my manly studies. As soon as I was able to converse with the natives, I began to feel some satis- faction in thair company : my awkward timidity was THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. 75 polished and emboldened ; and I frequented, for the first time, assemblies of men and women. The acquaintance of the Pavilliards prepared me by degrees for more ele- gant society. I was received with kindness and indul- gence in the best families of Lausanne ; and it was in one of these that I formed an intimate and lasting con- nexion with Mr. Deyverdun, a young man of an amiable temper and excellent understanding. In the arts of fen- cing and dancing, small indeed was my proficiency ; and some months were idly wasted in the riding-school. My 1 unfitness to bodily exercise reconciled me to a sedentary life, and the horse, the favourite of my countrymen, never contributed to the pleasures of my youth. My obligations to the lessons of Mr. Pavilliard, grati- tude will not suffer me to forget : he was endowed with a clear head and a warm heart ; his innate benevolence had assuaged the spirit of the Church ; he was rational, because he was moderate : in the course of his studies he had acquired a just though superficial knowledge of most branches of literature ; by long practice, he was skilled in the arts of teaching ; and he laboured with assiduous patience to know the character, gain the affection, and open the mind of his English pupil.* As * Translated Exiracl of a Letter from Mr. Pavilliard to Edward Gibbon, Esq. " Lausanne, July 25, 1753. " Mr. Gibbon is, thank God, very well ; and appears to me to be very comfortable at our house ; I have even reason to think that he feels some attachment to myself, of which I am very glad, and which I shall strenu- ously endeavour to increase ; because then he will have more confidence in me, and in what I intend to say to him. " I have not yet ventured to speak to him upon religious topics, for I am not sufficiently acquainted with the English language to support a long 76 THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. soon as we began to understand eacli other, he gently led me, from a blind and undistinguished love of reading, into the path of instruction. I consented with pleasure that a portion of the morning hours should be consecrated to a plan of modern history and geography, and to the critical perusal of the French and Latin classics ; and at each step I felt myself invigorated by the habits of application and method. His prudence repressed and dissembled some youthful sallies ; and as soon as I was confirmed in the habits of industry and temperance, he gave the reins into my own hands. His favourable re- port of my behaviour and progress gradually obtained some latitude of action and expense ; and he wished to alleviate the hardships of my lodging and entertainment. The principles of philosophy were associated with the examples of taste ; and by a singular chance, the book, conversation in it, though I can read EngUsh authors with considerable facilitiy ; and Mr. Gibbon does not understand enough French, though he is making rapid progress in it. " I am much pleased with the politeness and suavity of your son's dis- position, and I flatter myself I shall always be able to speak favourably of him to you. He applies closely to reading." From the Same to the Same. Lausanne, August, 13, 1753. " Mr. Gibbon is, thank God, in good health ; I feel an affection for him, and am exceedingly attached to him, because he is mild and quiet. Re- specting his religious sentiments, though I have not yet said anything to him on the subject, I have reason to hope he will open his eyes to the truth. I think so, because, when he was in my study, he made choice of two controversial books, and took them to peruse in his chamber. He has enjoined me to present you his most humble respects, and to ask you to allow him to learn riding ; which exercise will, he thinks, contribute to his bodily health." THL AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. 77 as well as the man, which contributed the most effec- tually to my education, has a stronger claim on my gratitude than on my admiration. Mr. De Crousaz, the adversary of Bayle and Pope, is not distinguished by lively fancy or profound reflection ; and even in his own country, at the end of a few years, his name and writings are almost obliterated. But his philosophy had been formed in the school of Locke, his divinity in that of Limborch and Le Clerc ; in a long and laborious life, several generations of pupils were taught to think, and even to write ; his lessons rescued the academy of Lau- sanne from Calvinistic prejudice ; and he had the rare merit of diffusing a more liberal spirit among the clergy and people of the Pays de Vaud. His system of logic, which in the last editions has swelled to six tedious and prolix volumes, may be praised as a clear and methodical abridgment of the art of reasoning, from our simple ideas to the most complex operations of the human understand- ing. This system I studied, and meditated, and ab- stracted, till I have obtained the free command of an uni- versal instrument, which I soon presumed to exercise on my catholic opinions. Pavilliard was not unmindful that his first task, his most important duty, was to reclaim me from the errors of popery. The intermixture of sects has rendered the swiss clergy acute and learned on the topics of controversy ; and I have some of his letters in which he celebrates the dexterity of his attack, and my gradual concessions, after a firm and well-managed de- fence.* I was willing, and I am now willing, to allow * Mr. Pavilliard has described to me the astonishment with which ha gazed on Mr. Gibbon standing before him : a thin little figure, with a large 78 THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. him a handsome share of the honour of rny conversion : yet I must observe, that it was priccipally effected by my private reflections ; and I still remember my sohtary transport at the discovery of philosophical argument against the doctrine of transubstantiation ; that the text of scripture which seems to inculcate the real presence, is attested only by a single sense — our sight ; while the real presence itself is disproved by three of our senses — the sight, the touch and the taste. The various articles of the Romish creed disappeared like a dream ; and after a full conviction, on Christmas-day, 1754, 1 received the sacrament in the church of Lausanne. It was here that I suspended my religious inquiries, acquiescing with implicit belief in the tenets and mysteries, which are adopted by the gejrferal consent of Catholics and Pro- te-stants.* head, disputing and urging, with the greatest ability, all the best arguments that had ever been need in favour of popery. Mr. Gibbon many years ago became very fat and corpulent, but he had uncommonly email bones, and was very slightly made. — S. * Letter from Mr. Pavilliard to Edward Gibbon, Esq. " June 26th, 1754. " Sir, " I hope you will pardon my long silence, on account of the news which I now have to communicate to you. My delay has been owing neither to forgetfulness nor to negligence, but I have, irom week to week, been ex- pecting to be able to announce to you that your son had entirely renounced the false ideas that he had embraced ; but it was necessary to dispute every inch of ground ; and I have not found in him a man of fickle disposi- tion, or one who passes rapidly from one opinion to another. Ol'ten when I had confuted all his reasonings upon any particular pc/iut, in such a mimner as to leave him nothing to reply (which he has frankly acknowledged), ho has told me that he diil not btlieve there wasuo answer tliat might be mado THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE, 79 to me. Whereupon I did not deem it right to push it too far, and to extort an acknowledgment from him that his heart would disavow ; I therefore gave him time for reflection ; all my books were at his service ; I returned to the charge when he had informed me that he had studied the matter as well as he possibly could ; and thus at last I established a truth, " I felt persuaded that, when I had overthrown the principal errors of the Romish church, I should only have to show him that the remainder are consequences from these, and that thay are no longer tenable when the fundamental doctrines are overturned ; but, a? I have already said, I was deceived in this, and it was necessary to treat of each tenet in all its extent. By the grace of God, my time has not been lost, and now, if he may, perhaps, still retain some remains of his pernicious errors, yet he is no longer a member of the Romish church. Tliis, then, is how we stand. " I have overtlirown the infalliiiility of the church ; I have proved that St Peter was never the prince of the apostles, and that, even if he was, the Pope is not his successor ; that it is doubtful whether St. Peter ever was at Rome, and, supposing that he was, he never was bishop of that city ; that transubstantiation is a human invention, and of recent introduction into the church ; that the adoration of the host and the denial of the cup are con- trary to the word of God ; that there are saints but we know not who ihey are, and therefore we cannot pray to them; thjit the respect and worship paid to relics is improper ; that there is no purg>.tory, and that the doctrine of indulgences is erroneous ; that Lent and the Friday and Saturday fasts are ridiculous at the present day, and in the manner in which they are pre- scribed by the Romish church ; and that the charges brought against us of diversity in our doctrine, and of having for reformers only persons of scandalous conduct and immoral life, are entirely false. " You will easily perceive, sir, that these subjects require a long discus- sion, and that some time was necessary for your son to think over my argu- ments and 10 seek for answers. I have asked him several tim«3 whether my arguments and proofs appeared to him to be convincing ; and he haa always assured me that they were in such a manner that, as I told him himself a little while ago, I dare myself aver that he is no longer a Roman Catholic. I flatter myself that, after having obtained the victory on these points, I shall, with the help of God, be sure of him on the rest: so that I expect to tell you in a little time that the work is accomplished. I ought, however, to inform you that, though I have found your son very firm in his 80 THE AUTHOR REMOVES TO LAUSANNE. opinions, yet I have found kim reasonable and open to conviction, and not •what is called a quibbler. With respect to the subject of the Friday and Saturday fasts ; a long time after I wrote you word that he had not men- tioned that he wished to observe it, about the beginning of March, I ob- served one Friday that he did not eat any meat; I spoke to him privately to know the reason of it, fearing it might be through indisposition. He answered that he had done it purposely, and that he thought it incumbent upon him to conform to a practice of the church of which he was a mem- ber. We conversed some time upon the subject ; he told me that he merely looked upon it as a good custom indeed, and worthy of observance, though not holy in itself nor of divine institution. I did not think proper to insist upon it at that time, or to force him to act against his conscience ; I have since treated upon this point, which is certainly one of the least important and fundamental ; and yet I have found a considerable time necessary to unde- ceive him, and to make him understand that he was wrong to subject him- self to the practice of a church that he did not account to be infallible ; that even if this custom had some utilily at its institution, yet now it had none of any sort, since it did not in any way contribute to purity of morals ; that thus there was no reason either in the institution of the practice or in tho practice itself, that made it incumbent on him to observe it ; that at the present time it was merely a matter of interest, since dispensations were to be bought with money for eatJng flesh, &c. ; so that I have brought him back to christian liberty with great difficulty and only within a few weeks since. " I have requested him to write to you, to apprize you of his Eentiments and of liia state of health ; and I believe he has done so." CHAP. X. AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. Such, from my arrival at Lausanne, during the first eighteen or twenty months (July, 1753 — March, 1755,) were my useful studies, the foundation of all my future improvements. But every man who rises above the com- mon level has received two educations : the first from his teachers; the second, m'ore personal and more important, from himself. He will not, like the fanatics of the last age, define the moment of grace ; but he cannot forget the sera of his life, in which his mind has expanded to its proper form and dimensions. My worthy tutor had the good sense and modesty to discern how far he could be useful: as soon as he felt that I advanced beyond his speed and measure, he wisely left me to my genius ; and the hours of lesson were soon lost in the voluntary labour of the whole morning, and sometimes of the whole day. The desire of prolonging my time, gradually confirmed the salutary habit of early rising; to which I have always adhered, with some regard to seasons and situations : but it is happy for my eyes and my health, that my temperate ardour has never been seduced to trespass on the hours of the night. During the last three years of my residence in Lausanne, I may assume the merit of serious and solid application ; but I am tempted to distinguish the last eight 82 AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. months of the year 1755, as the period of the most extra- ordinary diligence and rapid progress.* In my French and Latin translations I adopted an excellent method, which, from my own success, I would recommend to the imitation of students, I chose some classic writer, such as Cicero and Vertot, the most approved for purity and elegance of style. I translated, for instance, an epistle of Cicero into French ; and after throwing it aside, till the words and phrases were obliterated from my memory, I re-translated my French into such Latin as I could find ; and then compared each sentence of my imperfect ver- sion, with the ease, the grace, the propriety of the Roman orator. A similar experiment was made on several pages of the Revolutions of Vertot ; I turned them into Latin, re-turned them after a sufficient interval into my own French, and again scrutinized the resemblance or dissimilitude of the copy and the original. By degrees I was less ashamed, by degrees I was more satisfied with * Journal, December, 1755.] — In finishing this year, I must remark how favourable it was to my studies. In the space of eight months, from the beginning of April, I learned the principles of drawing ; made myself complete master of the French and Latin languages, with which I was very superficially acquainted before, and wrote and translated a great deal in both ; read Cicero's Epistles ad Familiares, his Brutus, all his Orations, his Dialogues de Amicitia and de Senectute ; Terence, twice ; and Pliny's Epistles. In French, Giannone's History of Naples, and the Abbe Banier's Mythology, and M. de Boehat's M^moires sur la Suisse, and wrote a very ample relation of my tour. I likewise began to study Greek, and went through the grammar. I began to make very large collections of what I read. Bat what I esteem most of all, from the perusal and meditation of Do Crousaz'a Logic, I not only undei-stood the principles of that science, but formed my miud to a habit of thinking and reasoning I had no idea of before. AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. 83 myself : and I persevered in the practice of these double translations, which filled several books, till I had acquired the knowledge of both idioms, and the command at least of a correct syle. This useful exercise of writing was accompanied and succeeded by the more pleasing occu- pation of reading the best authors. The perusal of the Roman classics was at once my exercise and reward. Dr. Middleton's History, which I then appreciated above its true value, naturally directed me to the writings of Cicero. The most perfect editions, that of Olivet, which may adorn the shelves of the rich, that of Ernesti, which should lie on the table of the learned, vaere not in my power. For the Familiar Epistles I used the text and English Commentary of Bishop Ross : but my general edition was that of Verburgius, published at Amsterdam, in two large volumes in folio, with an indifferent choice of various notes. I read, with application and pleasure, all the epistles, all the orations, and the most important trea- tises of rhetoric and philosophy ; and as I read, I ap- plauded the observation of Quintilian, that every student may judge of his own proficiency, by the satisfaction which he receives from the Roman orator. I tasted the beauties of language, I breathed the spirit of freedom, and I imbibed from his precepts and examples the public and private sense of a man. Cicero in Latin, and Xenophon in Greek, are indeed the two ancients whom I would first propose to a liberal scholar : not only for the merit of their style and sentiments, but for the admirable lessons, which may be applied almost to every situation of public and private life. Cicero's Epistles may in particular af- ford the models of every form of correspondence, from 84 AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. the careless effusions of tenderness and friendship, to the well-guarded declaration of discreet and dignified resent- ment. After finishing this great author, a library of elo- quence and reason, I formed a more extensive plan of reviewing the Latin classics,* under the four divisions of» 1. Historians, 2. Poets, 3. Orators, and 4. Philosophers, in a chronological series, from the days of Plautus and Sallust, to the decline of the language and empire of Rome ; and this plan, in the last twenty-seven months of my residence at Lausanne (January, 1756 — April, 1758), I nearly accomplished. Nor was this ]-eview, however rapid, either hasty or superficial. I indulged myself in a second, and even a third perusal of Terence, Virgil, Horace, Tacitus, &c., and studied to imbibe the sense and spirit most congenial to my own. I never suffered a dif- ficult or corrupt passage to escape, till I had viewed it in every light of which it was susceptible : though often dis- appointed, I always consulted the most learned or inge- nious commentators, Torrentius and Dacier on Horace, Catrou and Servius on Virgil, Lipsius on Tacitus, Meze- riac on Ovid, &c. ; and in the ardour of my inquiries, I embraced a large circle of historical and critical erudi- tion. My abstracts of each book were made in the French language ; my observations often branched into particular essays ; and I can still read, without contempt, a dissertation of eight folio pages on eight lines (287 — ■ * Journal, January, 1756.] — I determined to read over the Latin authors in order ; and read this year, Virgil, Sallust, LivT^, Velleius Paler- culuB, Valerius Maxlinus, Tacitus, Suetonius, Quintus Curtius, Justin, Floras, Plautos, Terence, and Lucretius. I also read and meditated Locke upon the Underatanding. AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. 85 294) of the fourth Georgic of Virgil. Mr. Deyverdun, my friend, whose name will be frequently repeated, had joined with equal zeal, though not with equal perse- verance, in the same undertaking. To him every thought, every composition, was instantly communicated ; with him I enjoyed the benefits of a free conversation on the topics of our common studies. But it is scarcely possible for a mind endowed with any active curiosity to be long conversant with the Latin classics, without aspiring to know the Greek originals, whom they celebrate as their masters, and of whom they so warmly recommend the study and iinitation ; Vos exemplaria Graca A Nocturaa versate manu, versate diurna. It was now that I regre'tted the early years which had been wasted in sickness or idleness, or mere idle reading ; that I condemned the perverse method of our school- masters, who, by first teaching the mother-language, might descend with so much ease and perspecuity to the origin and etymology of a derivative idiom. In the nineteenth year of my age I determined to supply this defect ; and the lessons of Pavilliard again contributed to smooth the entrance of the way, the Greek alphabet, the grammar, and the pronunciation according to the French accent. At my earnest request we presumed to open the Iliad ; and I had the pleasure of beholding, though darkly and through a glass, the true image of Homer, whom I had long since admired in an English dress. After my tutor had left me to myself, 1 worked my way through about half the Iliad, and afterwards interpreted alone a 86 AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. large portion of Xenophon and Herodotus. But my ardour, destitute of aid and emulation, was gradually- cooled, and, from the barren task of searching words in a lexicon, I withdrew to the free and famiUar conversation of Virgil and Tacitus. Yet in my residence at Lausanne I had laid a solid foundation, which enabled me, in a more propitious season, to prosecute the study of Grecian literature. From a blind idea of the usefulness of such abstract science, my father had been desirous, and even pressing, that I should devote some lime to the mathematics ;* nor Extract of a letter from Mr. Pavilliard to Edward Gibbon, Esq. # "January 12, 1757. " Sir, "You wished that your eon should apply himself to Algebra; his taste for literature made him fearful lest it should injure his favourite studies ; I have persuaded him that he formed a wrong idea of that province of Ma- thematics ; and the obedience he owes you, added to my arguments, has determined him to go through a course of it. I did not think that, with this repugnance, he would have made any great progress in it ; I was deceived ; all that he does, he does well ; he is punctual at his lessons, applies himself to reading before them, and goes over them again carefully, so that he ad- vances rapidly, and more than I should, myself, have expected. He is de- lighted at having begun, and I think he will go through a short course of geometry, which will not altogether occupy him above seven or eight months. While he is proceeding with these lessons, he has not at all re- mitted his other studies; he has made great progress in the Greek, and haa read almost half the Iliad of Homer ; I give him lessons regularly in that author. He has also finished the Latin historians, and is at present engaged upon the poets; he has read the whole of Plautus and Terence, and will Boon have finished Lucretius. Moreover, he does not skim these authors over lightly, but wishes to make himself clear upon every thing ; so that with the genius he possesses, and his excellent memory and application, he will go deep into the sciences. " I have already had the honour to infonn you that, notwithstanding hia AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. 87 could I refuse to comply with so reasonable a wish. During two winters I attended the private lectures of Monsieur de Traytorrens, who explained the elements of algebra and geometry, as far as the cojarfic sections of the 01^ Marquis de I'Hopital, and appeared satisfied with my diligence and improvement.* But as my childish pro- Btudies, he was in the habit of seeing company, and I may at the present time repeat what I then said." From the Same to the Same. " January, 14, 1758. " Sir, " I had the honour of writing to you on the 27th of July and the 26th of October last, and of giving you an account of tho health, the studies, and conduct of your son. I have nothing to add to what I have already said to you about him; he is, thank God, perfectly well, aud continues to study with close application ; and I can assure you he makes considerable progress in different branches, makes himself highly esteemed by all who are acquiuted with him, and I hope that, when he shows you in detail the extent of his acquirements, you will be very much pleased with him. Literature, which is his favourite study, does not oocupy him entirely ; he is proceeding with the mathematics, and his professor assures me that he never saw any one make so rapid a progress as he does, or have more ardour or application than he possesses. His happy and penetrating genius is assisted by one of the best of memories, so that he scarcely ever forgets anything he learns. I have not myself any less reason than before to be pleased with his conduct; though he studies a great deal, yet he sees company, but only those per- sons whose intercourse may be profitable to him." •JooRNAL, January, 1757.] — I began to study algebra under M. de Traytorrens, went through the elements of algebra and geometry, and tho three first books of the Marquis de THopital's Coniic Sections. I also read y*^ TibuUus, Catullus, Propertius, Horace (with Dacier's aud Torrentius's notes), Virgil, Ovid's Epistles and Mezeriac's Commentary, the Ars Amandi, and the Elegies; likewise the Augustus and Tiberius of Sueto- nius, and a Latin translation of Dion Cassius, from the death of Julius 88 AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. pensity for numbers and calculations was totally extinct, I was content to receive the passive impression of my professor's lectures, without any active exercise of my own powers. As soon as 1 understood the principle, I relinquished for ever the pursuit of the mathematics ; nor can I lament that I desisted, before my mind was hard- l ened by the habit of rigid demonstration, so destructive of the finer feelings of moral evidence, which must, how- ever, determine the actions and opinions of our lives. I listened with more pleasure to the proposal of studying the Law of Nature and Nations, which was taught in the Academy of Lausanne by Mr. Vicat, a professor of some learning and reputation. But, instead of attending his public or private course, I preferred in my closet the lessons of his masters, and my own reason. Without being disgusted by Grotius or PufFendorf, I studied in their writings the duties of a man, the rights of a citizen, the theory of justice (it is, alas ! a theory), and the laws of peace and war, which have had some influence on the practice of modern Europe. Aly fatigues were alleviated by the good sense of their commentator Barbeyrac Locke's Treatise of Government instructed me in the knowledge of Whig principles, which are rather founded in reason than experience ; but my delight was in the frequent perusal of Montesquieu, whose energy of style Caesar to the death of Augustas. I also continued my correspondence begun last year with Mr. AUemand of Bex, and the Professor Breitinger of Zurich ; and opened a new one with the Professor Gesner of Gottingen. N. B. Last year and this I read St. John's Gospel, with part of Xeno- phon's Cyropai'dia ; the I had and Herodotus : but, upon the whole, I rather neglected my Greek. AUTHOR'S ACCOUiNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. 89 and boldness of hypothesis were powerful to awaken and stimulate the genius of the age. The logic of De Crousaz had prepared me to engage with his master Locke, and his antagonist Bayle ; of whom the former may be used as a bridle, and the latter applied as a spur, to the curiosity of a young philosopher. According to the nature of their respective works, the schools of argu- ment and objection, I carefully went through the Essay on Human Understanding, and occasionally consulted the most interesting articles of the Philosophic Dictionary. In the infancy of my reason I turned over, as an idle amusement, the most serious and important treatise : in its maturity, the most trifling performance could exercise my tastes or judgment ; and more than once I have been led by a novel into a deep and instructive traint of think- ing. But I cannot forbear to mention three particular books, since they have remotely contributed to foi'm the historian of the Roman Empire. 1 . From the Provincial Letters of Pascal, which almost every year I have perused ^ with new pleasure, I learned to manage the weapon ot / grave and temperate irony, even on subjects of ecclesias- tical solemnity. 2. The Life of Julian, by the Abbe de la Bleterie, first introduced me to the man and the times ; and I should be glad to recover my first essay on the truth of the miracle which stopped the rebuilding of the Temple of Jerusalem. 3. In Giannone's Civil History of Naples, I observed with a critical eye the progress and abuse of sacerdotal power, and the revolutions of Italy in the darker ages. This various reading, which I now conducted with discretion, was digested according to the precept and model of Mr. Locke, into a large common- 90 AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT OF THE BOOKS HE READ. place book ; a practice, however, which I do not strenu- ously recommend. The action of the pen will doubtless imprint an idea on the mind as well as on the paper : but I much question whether the benefits of this laborious method are adequate to the waste of time ; and I must agree with Dr. Johnson, (Idler, No. 74,) " that what is twice read, is commonly better remembered than what is transcribed." CHAP. XI. AUTHOR'S TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. During two years, if I forget some boyish excursions of a day or a week, I was fixed at Lausanne ; but at the end of the third summer, my father consented that I should make the tour of Switzerland with Paviliiard : and our short absence of one month (September 21st — Octo- ber 20th, 1755,) was a reward and relaxation of my assiduous studies,* The fashion of climbing the moun- * From Edward Gibbon to Mrs. Poricn. ****.**••••***" Now for myself. As my father has given me leave to make a joumej;round Svvritzerland, we set out to-morrow. Buy a rpap of Switzerland, it will cost you but a shiUing, and follow me. I go by Iverdun, Neufchatel, Bienne or Biel, Soleure or Sglo- thum. Bale or Basle, Baden, Zurich, Lucerne, and Berne. The voyage will be of about four weeks ; so that I hope to find a letter from you waiting for me. As my father had given me leave to learn what I had a mind, 1 have learned to ride^lfed learn actually to dance and di-avv. Besides that, I often give ten or Twelve hours a day to my studies. I find a great many agreeable people here, see them sometimes, and can say upon the whole, without vanity, that though I am the Englishman here who spends the least money, I am he who is the most generally liked. I told you that my father had promised to send me into France and Italy. I have thanked hira for it; but if he would follow my plan, he won't do it yet a while. I never liked young travellers ; they go too raw to make any great remarks, and they lose a time which is (in my opinion) the most precious part of a man's life. My scheme would be, to spend this winter at Lausanne (for though it is a very good place to acquire the air of good company and the French 92 AUTHOR'S TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. tains and reviewing the glaciers, had not yet been intro- duced by foreign travellers, who seek the sublime beau- ties of nature. But the political face of the country is not less diversified by the forms and spirit of so many various republics, from the jealous government of the few to the licentious freedom of the many. I contem- plated with pleasure the new prospects of men and man- ners ; though my conversation with the natives would have been mcn'e free and instructive, had I possessed the German, as well as the French, language. We passed through most of the principal towns of Switzerland; Neufchatel, Bienne, Soleure, Arau, Baden, Zurich, Basle, and Berne. In every place we visited the churches, arse- nals, libraries, and all the most eminent persons ; and, after my return, I digested my notes in fourteen or fifteen sheets of a French journal, which I despatched to my father, as a proof that my time and his money had not been mis-spent. Had I found this journal among his tongue, wo have no good professors) ; to spend, I say, the winter at Lau- sanne ; go into England to see my friends a couple of months, and affer that, fiuish my studies, either at Cambridge (for after what has passed one cannot think of Oxford), or at an university in Holland. If you liked the scheme, could you not propose it to my father by Medmy, or somebody who has a certain credit over him 7 I forgot to ask you whether, in case my father writes to tell me of his maniage, would you advise me to compliment my mother-in-law 1 I think so. My health is so very regular that I have nothing to say about it. " I have been] the whole day writing you this letter ; the preparation for our voyage gave me a thousand interruptions. Besides that, I was obliged to write in English. This last reason will seem a paradox to you, but I assure you the French is much more familiar to me. I am. &c. «' E. Gibbon." "Lausanne, Sept. 20, 1755." AUTHOR'S TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. 93 papers, I might be tempted to select some passages : but I will not transcribe the printed accounts, and it may be sufficient to notice a remarkable spot, which left a deep and lasting impression on ray memory. From Zurich we proceeded to the Benedictine Abbey of Einfidlen, more commo^y styled Our Lady of the Hermits. I was astonished by the profuse ostentation of riches in the poorest corner of Europe ; amidst a savage scene of woods and mountains, a palace appears to have been erected by magic ; and it was erected by the potent magic of religion. A crowd of palmers and votaries was prostrate before the altar. The title and worship of the Mother of God provoked my indignation ; and the lively naked image of superstition suggested to me, as in the same place it had done to Zuinglius, the most pressing argument for the reformatien of the church. About two years after this tour, I passed at Geneva a useful and agreeable month ; but this excursion, and some short visits in the Pay de Vaud, did not materially interrupt my studious. and sedentary life at Lausanne. My thirst of improvement, and the languid state of science at Lausanne, soon prompted me to solicit a lite- rary correspondence with several men of learning, whom I had not an opportunity of personally consulting. 1. In the perusal of Livy, (xxx. 44.) I had been stopped by a sentence in a speech of Hannibal, which cannot be re- conciled by any torture with his character or argument. The commentators dissemble, or confess their perplexity. It occurred to me, that the change of a single letter, by substituting otio instead of odio, might restore a clear and consistent sense ; but I wished to weigh m;y emen- AUTHOR'S TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. dation in scales less partial than my own. I addressea myself to M. Crevier,* the successor of Rollin, and a professor in the university of Paris, who had published a large and valuable edition of Livy. His answer was speedy and polite ; he praised my ingenuity, and adopted my conjecture. 2. I maintained a Latin correspondence, at first anonymous, and afterwards in my own name, with Professor Breitinger,f of Zurich, the learned editor of a Septuagint Bible. In our frequent letters we dis- cussed questions of antiquity, many passages of the Latin classics. I proposed my interpretations and amendments. His censures (for he did not spare my boldness of con- jecture) were sharp and strong ; and I was encouraged by the consciousness of my strength, when I could stand in free debate against a critic of such eminence and erudition. 3. I corresponded on similiar topics with the celebrated Professor Matthew Gesner,J of the University of Gottingen ; and he accepted, as courteously as the two former, the invitation of an unknown youth. But his abilities might possibly be decayed ; his elaborate letters were feeble and prolix ; and when I asked his proper di- rection, the vain old man covered half a sheet of paper with the foolish enumeration of his titles and otFices. 4. These pj'ofessors of Paris, Zurich, and Gottingen, were strangers, whom I presumed to address on the credit of their name ; bnt Mr. Allemand,§ minister at Bex, was my personal friend, with whonj I maintained a more free and interesting correspondence. He was a master of language, of science, and above all, of dispute ; and his • See Letters, No. I. f See Letters, Nos. IV. and V. t See Letters, Nos. VI. VII. aud VIII. } See Letters, Nos. II. and IIL AUTHOR'S TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. 95 acute and flexible logic could support, with equal ad- dress, and perhaps with equal indifTcrence, the adverse sides of every possible question. His spirit wasttictive, but his pen had been indolent. Mr. Allemand had ex- posed himself to much scandal and reproach, by an anony- mous letter (1745) to the Protestants of France ; in which he labours to persuade them that public worship is the exclusive right and duty of the state, and that their nu- merous assemblies of dissenters and rebels were not au- thorized by the law or the gospel. His style is animated, his arguments specious ; and if the papist may seem to lurk under the mask of a protestant, the philosopher is concealed under the disguise of a papist. After some trials in France and Holland, which were defeated by his fortune or his character, a genius that might have enlightened or deluded the world, was buried in a country living, unknown to fame, and discontented with mankind. Est sacrificulus in pago, et rusticos decipit. As often as private or ecclesiastical business called him to Lausanne, I enjoyed the pleasure and benefit of his conversation, and we were mutually flattered by our attention to each other. Our correspondence, in his absence chiefly turned on Locke's metaphysics, which he attacked, and I de- fended ; the origin of ideas, the principles of evidence, and the doctrine of liberty ; And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. By fencmg with so skillful a master I acquired some dex- terity in the use of my philosophic weapons ; but I was still the slave of education and prejudice. He had some X 96 AUTHOR'S TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. measures to keep ; and I much suspect that he never showed me the true colours of his secret scepticism. BefOTe I. was recalled from Switzerland^ I had the sa- tisfaction of seeing the most extraordinary man of the age ; a poet, an historian, a philosopher, who has filled thirty quartos, of prose and verse, with his various pro- ductions, often excellent, and always entertaining. Need I add the name of Voltaire ? After forfeiting, by his own misconduct, the friendship of the first of kings, he re- tired at tjie age of sixty, with a plentiful fortune, to a free and beautiful country, and resided two winters (1757 and 1758) in the town or neighbourhood of Lausanne. My desire of beholding Voltaire, whom I then rated above his real magnitude, was easily gi-atified. He received me with civility as an English youth ; but I cannot boast of any peculiar notice or distinction ; Virgilium vidi tantum. The ode which he composed on his first arrival on the banks of the Leman Lake, " O maison d'Aristippe ! O jarden d'Epicure," &c., had been imparted as a secret to the gentleman by whom I was introduced. He allowed me to read it twice ; I knew it by heart ; and as my dis- cretion was not equal to my memory, the author was soon displeased by the circulation of a copy. In writing this trivial anecdote, I wished to observe whether my memory was impaired, and I have the comfort of finding that every line of the poem is still engraved in fresh and indelible characters. The highest gratification which I derived from Voltaire's residence at Lausanne, was the uncommon circumstance of hearing a great poet declaim his own productions on the stage. Ho had formed AUTHOR'S TOTJR IN SVVITZKRLAND. 97 a company of gentlemen and ladies some of whom were not destitute of talents. A decent theatre was framed at Monrepos, a country-house at the end of a suburb ; dresses and scenes were provided at the expense of the actors ; and the author directed the rehearsals with the zeal and attention of paternal love. In two successive winters his tragedies of Zaire, Alzire, Zulime, and his sentimental comedy of the Enfant Prodigue, were played at the theatre of Monrepos. Voltaire represented the characters best adapted to his years, Lusignan, Alvarez, Benasser, Euphemon. His declamation was fashioned to the pomp and cadence of the old stage ; and he ex- pressed the enthusiasm of poetry, rather than the feelings of nature. My ardour which soon became conspicuous, seldom failed of procuring me a ticket. The habits of pleasure fortified my taste for the French theatre, and that taste has perhaps abated my idolatry for the gigantic genuis of Shakespear, which is inculcated from our in- fancy as the first duty of an Englishman. The wit and philosophy of Voltaire, his table and theatre, refined, in a visible degree, the manners of Lausanne ; and, however addicted to study, I enjoyed my share of the amusements of society. After the representation of Monrepos, I sometimes supped with the actors. I was now familiar in some, and acquainted in many, houses ; and my evenings were generally devoted to cards and conversa- tion, either in private parties or numerous assemblies. [ CHAP. XII. MADEMOISELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. I hesitate, from the apprehension of ridicule, when I approach the delicate subject of my early love. By this word I do not mean the polite attention, the gallantry, without hope or design, which has originated in the spirit of chivalry, and is interwoven with the texture of French manners. I understand by this passion the union of desire, friendship, and tenderness, which is inflamed by a single female, which prefers her to the rest of her sex, and which seeks her possession as the supreme or the sole happiness of our being. I need not blush at recol- lecting the object of my choice ; and though my love was disappointed of success, I am rather proud that I was once capable of feeling such a pure and exalted senti- ment. The personal attractions of Mademoiselle Susan Curchod were embellished by the virtues and talents of the mind. Her fortune was humble, but her family was respectable. Her mother, a native of France, had pre- ferred her religion to her country. The profession of her father did not extinguish the moderation and philosophy of his temper, and he lived, content with a small salary and laborious duty, in the obscure lot of minister of Crassy, in the mountains that separate the Pays de Vaud M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. 99 from the county of Burgundy.* In the solitude of a sequestered village he bestowed a liberal, and even learned, education on his only daughter. She surpassed his hopes by her proficiency in the sciences and lan- guages ; and in her short visits to some relations at Lau- sanne, the wit, the beauty, and erudition of Mademoiselle Curchod were the theme of universal applause. The report of such a prodigy awakened my curiosity ; I saw and loved. I found her learned without pedantry, hvely in conversation, pure in sentiment, and elegant in man- ners ; and the first sudden emotion was fortified by the habits and knowledge of a more familiar acquaintance. She permitted me to make her two or three visits at her * Extracts from ike Journal. March, 1757. March 8th. June. August. Sept. I5th. Oct. 15th. Nov. 1st. Nov. I7th Jan. 1758. Jan. 23rd. I wrote some critical observations upon Plautus. I wrote a long dissertation on some lines of Virgil. I saw Mademoiselle Curchod — Omnia Vincit amor, et not eedamus amori. I went to Crassy, and staid two days. I went to Geneva. I came back to Lausanne, having passed through Crassy. I went to visit M. de Watteville at Loin, and saw Made- moiselle Curchod in my way tlirough Rolle. I went to Crassy, and staid there six days. In the three first months of this year I read Ovid's Metamor. phoses, finished the conic sections with M. de Tray, torrens, and went as far as the infinite series ; I like- wise read Sir Isaac Newton's Chronology, and wrote my critical observations upon it. I saw Alzire acted by the society at Monrepos. Voltaire acted Alvarez; D'Hermanches, Zamore ; De St. Cierge, Guzman ; M. de Gentil, Monteze ; and Ma- dame Denys, Alzire. 100 M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. ther's house. I passed some happy days there, in the mountains of Bergundy, and her parents honourably en- couraged the connexion. In a calm retirement the gay vanity of youth no longer fluttered in her bosom ; she • listened to the voice of truth and passion, and I might presume to hope that I had made some impression on a virtuous heart. At Crassey and Lausanne I indulged my dream of felicity : but on my return to England, I soon discovered that my father would not hear of this strange alliance, and that without his consent I was mvself desti- tute and helpless. After a painful struggle I yielded to my fate : I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son ;* my ■wound was insensibly healed by time, absence, and the habits of a new life. My cure was accelerated by a faithful report of tranquillity and cheerfulness of the lady herself, and my love subsided in friendship and esteem. The minister of Crassey soon afterwards died ; his stipend died with him : his daughter retired to Geneva, where, by teaching young ladies, she earned a hard sub- sistence for herself and her mother ; but in her lowest distress she maintained a spotless reputation, and a digni- fied behaviour. A rich banker of Paris, a citizen of Geneva, had the good fortune and good sense to discover and possess this inestimable treasure ; and in the capital of taste and luxury she resisted the temptations of wealth, as she had sustained the hardships of indigence. The * See CEavres de Rousseao, torn, xxxiii. p. 88, 89, octavo edition. As an author I shall not appeal from the judgment, or taste, or caprice of Jean Jacques; bat that extraominary man, whom I admire and pity, should have been less precipitate in condemning the moral character and condact of a Btrangek M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. lOI genius of her husband has exalted him to the most con- spicuous station in Europe. In every change of prospe- rity and disgrace he has reclined on the bosom of a faithful friend ; and Mademoiselle Curchod is now the wife of M. Necker, the minister, and perhaps the legisla- tor, of the French monarchy. Whatsoever have been the fruits of my educatien, they must be ascribed to the fortunate banishment which placed me at Lausanne. I have sometimes applied to my own fate the verses of Pindar, which remind an Olympic champion that his victory was the consequence of his exile ; and that at home, like a domestic fowl, his days might have rolled away inactive and inglorious. yjToi xai Tsa. X8U, 'Ev5o(jwij^aff air' aXsxrwp, 'AxXsT)5 Tifjia xaT£(puXXopor](j'e nroSuv. E/ (fragig dvriaveipa Kvcotfiag afXEptfg irarpas* Ohjmp. xil. If my childish revolt against the religion of my country had not stripped me in time of my academical gown, the five important years so liberally improved in the studies and conversation of Lausanne, would have been steeped * Thus like the crested bird of Mars, at home Engaged in foul domestic jars, And wasted with intestine wars, Inglorious hadst thou spent thy vig'rous bloom: Had not sedition's civil broils Expelled thee from thy native Crete, And driven thee with more glorious toils, Tho Olympic crown in Pisa's plain to meet. West's Pindar, 102 M'SELLE CCRCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. in port and prejudice among the monks of Oxford. Had the fatigue of idleness compelled me to read, the path of learning would not have been enlighted by a ray of philosophic freedom. I should have grown to manhood ignorant of the life and language of Europe, and my knowledge of the world would have been confined to an English cloister. But my religious error fixed me at Lausanne in a state o*f banishment and disgrace. The rigid course of discipline and abstinence, to which I was condemned, invigorated the constitution of my mind and body ; poverty and pride restrained me from my coun- trymen. One mischief, however, and in iheir eyes a se- rious and irreparable mischief was derived from the suc- cess of my Swiss education: I had ceased to be an Eng- lishman. At the flexible period of youth, from the age of sixteen to twenty-one, my opinions, habits, and senti- ments were cast in a foreign mould ; the faint and distant remembrance of England was almost obliterated; my native language was grown less familiar ; and I should have cheerfully accepted the offer of a moderate independence on the terms of perpetual exile. By the good sense and temper of Pavilliard my yoke was insensibly lightened : he left me master of my time and actions ; but he could neither change my situation, nor increase my allowance ; and with the progress of my years and reason I impa- tiently sighed for the moment of my deliverance. At length, in the spring of the year 1758, my father signified his permission and his pleasure that I should immediately return home. We were then in the midst of a war : the resentment of the French at our taking their ships with- out a declaration, had rendered that polite nation some- M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. 103 what peevish and difRcult. They denied a passage to Enghsh travellers, and the road through Germany was circuitous, toilsome, and perhaps, in the neighborhood of the armies, exposed to some danger. In this perplexity, two Swiss officers of my acquaintance, in the Dutch ser- vice, who were returning to their garrisons, offered to conduct me through France as one of their companions ; nor did we sufficiently reflect that my borrowed name and regimentals might have been considered, in case of discovery, in a very serious light. I took my leave of Lausanne on the 1 1th of April, 1758, with a mixture of joy and regret, in the firm resolution of revisiting, as a man, the persons and places which had been so dear to my youth. We travelled slowly, but pleasantly, in a hired coach, over the hills of Franche-Compte and the fertile province of Lorraine ; and passed, without acci- dent or inquiry, through several fortified towns of the French frontier : from thence we entered the wild Ar- dennes of the Austrian duchy of Luxembourg; and after crossing the Meuse at Leige, we traversed the heaths of Bi-abant, and reached, on the 15th day, our Dutch garri- son of Blois le Due. In our passage through Nanc, my eye was gratified by the aspect of a regular and beautiful city, the work of Stanislaus, who, after the storms of Polish royalty, reposed in the love and gratitude of his new subjects of Lorraine. In our halt at Maestricht I visited M. de Beaufort, a learned critic, who was known to me by his specious argui.ients against the five first cen- turies of the Roman history. After dropping my regi- mental companions, I stepped aside to visit Rotterdam and the Hague. I wished to have observed a country. 104 M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. the monument of freedom and industry ; but my days were numbered, and a longer delay would have been un- graceful. I hastened to embark at the Brill, landed the next day at Hardwich, and proceeded to London, where my father awaited my arrival. The whole term of my first absence from England was four years, ten months, and fifteen days. In the prayers of the church our personal concerns are judiciously reduced to the threefold distinction of mind, body, and estate. The sentiments of the mind excite and exercise our social sympathy. The review of my moral and literary character is the most interesting to myself and to the public ; and I may expatiate without reproach on my private studies ; since they have produced the public writings, which can alone entitle me to the esteem and friendship of my readers. The experience of the world inculcates a discreet reserve on the subject of our person and estate, and we soon learn that a free dis- closure of our riches or poverty would provoke the maUce of envy, or encourage the insolence of contempt. The only person in England whom I was impatient to see, was my aunt Porten, the affectionate guardian of my tender years. 1 hastened to her house in College-street, Westminister ; and the evening was spent in the effusions of joy and confidence. It was not without some awe and apprehension that I approached the presence of my father. My infancy, to speak the truth, had been ne- glected at home ; the severity of his look and language at our last parting still dwelt on my memory ; nor could I form any notion of his character, or my probable recep- tion. They were both more agreeable than I could ex- ..i SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. 105 pect. The domestic discipline of our ancestors has been relaxed by the philosophy and softness of the age ; and if my father remembered that he had trembled before a stern parent, it was only to adopt with his own son an opposite mode of behaviour. He received me as a man and a friend ; all constraint was banished at our first interview, and we ever afterwards continued on the same terms of easy and equal politeness. He applauded the success of my education ; every word and action was expressive of the most cordial affbtJtion ; and our lives would have passed without a cloud, if his economy had been equal to his fortune, or if his fortune had been equal to his desires. During my absence he had married his second wife. Miss Dorothea Patton, who was introduced to me with the most unfavourable prejudice. I con- sidered his second marriage as an act of displeasure, and I was disposed to hate the rival of my mother. But the in- justice was in my own fancy, and the imaginary monster was an amiable and deserving woman. I could not be mistaken in the first view of her understanding, her know- ledge, and the elegant spirit of her conversation : her polite welcome, and her assiduous care to study and gratify my wishes, announced at least that the surface would be smooth ; and my suspicions of art and falsehood were gradually dispelled by the full discovery of her warm and exquisite sensibility. After some reserve on my side, our minds associated in confidence and friendship ; and as Mrs. Gibbon had neither children nor the hopes of children, we more easily adopted the tender names and genuine characters of mother and of son. By the indul- gence of these parents, I was left at liberty to consult my 106 M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. taste or reason in the choice of place, of company, and of amusements ; and my excursions were bounded only by the limits of the island, and the measure of my income. Some faint efforts were made to procure me the employ- ment of a secretary to a foreign embassy ; and I listened to a scheme which would again have transported me to the Continent. Mrs. Gibbon, with seeming wisdom, ex- horted me to take chambers in the Temple, and devote my leisure to the study of the law. I cannot repent of hav- ing neglected her advice. Few men, without the spur of necessity, have resolution to force their way through the thorns and thickets of that gloomy labyrinth. Nature had not endowed me with the bold and ready eloquence which makes itself heard amidst the tumult of the bar; and I should probably have been diverted from the labours of literature, without acquiring the fame or fortune of a successful pleader. I had no need to call to my aid the regular duties of a profession; every day, every hour was agreeably filled ; nor have I known, like so many of my countrymen, the tediousness of an idle life. Of the two years (May, 1758— May, 1760,) between my return to England, and the embodying of the Hamp- shire militia, I passed about nine months in London, and the remainder in the country. The metropolis affords many amusements which are open to all. It is itself an astonishing and perpetual spectacle to the curious eye ; and each taste, each sense may be gratified by the variety of objects which will occur in the long circuit of a morning walk. I assiduously frequented the theatres at a very propitious sera of the stage, when a constella- tion of excellent actors, both in tragedy and comedy, M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. 107 was eclipsed by the meridian brightness of Garrick, in the maturity of his judgment and vigour of his per- formance. The pleasures of a town life are within the reach of every man who is regardless of his health, his money, and his company. By the contagion of example I was sometimes seduced ; but the better habits which I had formed at Lausanne,* induced me to seek a more elegant and rational society ; and if my search was less easy and successful than I might have hoped, I shall at present impute the failure to the disadvantages of my situation and character. Had the rank and fortune of my parents given them an annual establishment in London, their own house would have introduced me to a numerous and polite circle of acquaintance. But my father's taste had always preferred the highest and the lowest company, for which he was equally qualified ; and after twelve years' retirement, he was no longer in the memory of the great with whom he had associated. I found myself a stranger in the midst of a vast and unknown city ; and at my entrance into life I was reduced to some dull family parties, and some scattered connexions, vi^hich were not such as I should have chosen for myself. The most useful friends of my father were the Mallets : they re- ceived me with civility and kindness, at first on his ac- count, and afterwards on my own ; and (if I may use Lord Chesterfield's words) I was soon domesticated in their house. Mr. Mallet, a name among the English poets, is praised, by an unforgiving enemy, for the ease and elegance of his conversation, and his vfife was not destitute of wit or learning. By his assistance I was introduced to Lady Hervey, the mother of the present OSM'SELLE CUECHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. Earl of Bristol. Her age and infirmities confined her at home : her dinners were select ; in the evening her house was open to the best company of both sexes, and all nations ; nor was 1 displeased at her preference and affectation of the manners, the language and the literature of France. But my progress in the English world was in general left to my own efforts, and those efforts were languid and slow. I had not been endowed by art or nature with those happy gifts of confidence and address, which unlock every door and every bosom ; nor would it be reasonable to complain of the just consequences oi my sickly childhood, foreign education, and reserved temper. While coaches were rattling through Bond- street, I have passed many a solitary evening in my lodging with my books. My studies were sometimes in- terrupted by a sigh, which I breathed towards Lau- sanne ; and on the approach of spring, I withdrew with- out reluctance from the noisy and extensive scene of crowds without company and dissipation without pleasure. In each of the twenty-five years of my acquaintance with London (1758 — 1783) the prospect gradually brightened ; and this unfavourable picture most prooerly belongs to the first period after my return from Switzerland. My father's residence in Hampshire, where I have passed many light, and some heavy hours, was atBuriton, near Petersficld, one mile from the Portsmouth road, and at the easy distance of fifty-eight miles from London.* An old mansion, in a state of decay, had been converted * The estate and manor of Beriton, otherwise Buriton, were congider* able, and were sold a few years ago to Lord Stowell. — S. 109 M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. / into the fashion and convenience of a modern house : aud if strangers had nothing to see, the inhabitants had little to desire. The spot was not happily chosen, at the end of the village and the bottom of the hill : but the aspect of the adjacent grounds was various and cheerful ; the downs commanded a noble prospect, and the long hanging woods in sight of the house could not perhaps have been improved by art or expense. My father kept in his own hands the whole of the estate, and even rented some additional land ; and -whatsoever might be the balance of profit and loss, the farm supplied him with amusement and plenty. The produce maintained a number of men and horses, which were multiplied by the intermixture of domestic and rural servants ; and in the intervals of labour the favourite team, a handsome set of bays or greys, was harnessed to the coach. The economy of the house was regulated by the taste and prudence of Mrs. Gibbon. She prided herself in the elegance of her oc- casional dinners ; and from the uncleanly avarice of Madame Pavilliard, I was suddenly transported to the daily neatness and luxury of an English table. Our im- mediate neighbourhood was rare and rustic ; but from the verge of our hills, as far as Chichester and Good- wood, the western district of Sussex was interspersed with noble seats and hospitable families, with whom we cultivated a friendly, and might have enjoyed a very fre- quent, intercourse. As my stay at Buriton was always voluntary, I was received and dismissed with smiles ; but the comforts of my retirement did not depend on the ordinary pleasures of the country. My father could never inspire mc with his love and knowledge of farm- no M'iELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. ing. I never handled a gun, I seldom mounted a horse ; * and my philosophic walks were soon terminated by a shady bench, where I was long detained by the sedentary amusement of reading or meditation. At home I occu- pied a pleasant and spacious apartment ; the library on the same floor was soon considered as my peculiar do- main ; and I might say with truth, that I was never less alone than when by myself. My sole complaint, which I piously suppressed, arose from the kind restraint im- posed on the freedom of my time. By the habit of early rising I always secured a sacred portion of the day, and many scattered moments were stolen and employed by my studious industry. But the family hours of breakfast, of dinner, of tea, and of supper, were regular and long : after breakfast Mrs. Gibbon expected my company in her dressing-room ; after tea, my father claimed my con- versation and the perusal of the newspapers ; and in the midst of an interesting work I was often called down to receive the visit of some idle neighbours. Their dinners and visits required, in due season, a similar return ; and 1 dreaded the period of the full moon, which was usually reserved for our more distant excursions. I could not refuse attending my father, in the summer of 1759, to the races at Stockbridgc, Reading, and Odiham, where ho had entered a horse for the hunters plate; and I was not displeased with the sight of our Olympic games, the beauty of the spot, the flcetness of the horses, and the gay tumult of the numerous spectators. As soon as the militia business was agitated, many days were tediously consumed in meetings of deputy lieutenants at Peters- field, Alton and Winchester. In the close of the same M'SELLE CL'RCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. Ill year, 1759, Sir Simeon (then Mr.) Stewart attempted an unsuccessful contest for the county of Southampton, against Mr. Legge, Chancellor of the Exchequer : a well- known contest, in which Lord Bute's influence was first exerted and censured. Our canvass at Portsmouth and Gosport lasted several days ; but the interruption of my studies was compensated in some degree by the spectacle of English manners, and the acquisition of some practical knowledge. If in a more domestic or more dissipated scene my ap- plication was somewhat relaxed, the love of knowledge was inflamed and gratified by the command of books ; and I compared the poverty of Lausanne with the plenty of London. My father's study at Buriton was stuffed with much trash of the last age, with much high church divinity and politics, which have long since gone to their proper place ; yet it contained some valuable editions of the classics and the fathers, the choice, as it would seem, of Mr. Law ; and many English publications of the times had been occasionally added. From this slender begin- ning I have gradually formed a numerous and select library, the foundation of my M'orks, and the best com- fort of my life, both at home and abroad. On the receipt of the first quarter, a large share of my allowance was appropriated to my literary wants. I cannot forget the joy with which I exchanged a bank-note of twenty pounds for the twenty volumes of the Memoirs of the Academy of Inscriptions ; nor would it have been easy, by any other expenditure of the same sum, to have pro- cured so large and lasting a fund of rational amusement. At a time when I most assiduously frequented this school n-2 M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. of ancient literature, I thus expressed my opinion of a learned and various collection, which since the year 1759 has been doubled in magnitude, though not in merit — " Une de ces societes, qui ont mieux immortalise Louis XIV. qu'une ambition souvent pernicieuse aux hommes, commengait deja ces recherches qui reunissent la justesse de I'espnt, I'amenite et I'erudition : ou Ton voit tant des decouvertes, et quelquefois, ce qui ne cede qu'a peine aux decouvertes, une ignorance modeste et savante." The review of my library must be reserved for the period of its maturity ; but in this place I may allow myself to ob- serve, that I am not conscious of having ever bought a book from a motive of ostentation, that every volume, before it was deposited on the shelf, was either read or sufficiently examined, and that I soon adopted the tole- rating maxim of the elder Pliny, " nullum esse librum tam malum ut non ex aliqua parte prodesset." I could not yet find leisure or courage to renew the pursuit of the Greek language, excepting by reading the lessons of the Old and New Testament every Sunday, when I attended the family to church. The series of my Latin authors were less strenuously completed ; but the acquisition, by inhe- ritance or purchase, of the best editions of Cicero, Quin- tilian, Livy, Tacitus, Ovid, &.c. afforded a fair prospect, which I seldom neglected. I persevered in the useful method of abstracts and observations ; and a single example may suffice, of a note which had almost swelled into a work. The solution of a passage of Livy (xxviii. 38.) involved me in the dry and dark treatises of Greaves, Arburthnot, Hooper, Bernard, Eisenschmidt, Gronovius, La Barrt', Frerct, &c ; and in my French essay (chap. M'SELLE CURCHOD— AP'TERWARDS xMADAME NECKER. 113 20.) I ridiculously send the reader to my own manuscript remarks on the weights, coins, and measures of the ancients, which were abruptly terminated by the militia drum. As I am now entering on a more ample field of society and study, I can only hope to avoid a vain and prolix garrulity, by overlooking the vulgar crowd of my acquaintance, and confining myself to such intimate friends among books and men, as are best entitled to my notice by their own merit and reputation, or by the deep impression which they have left on my mind. Yet I will embrace this occasion of recommending to the young student a practice, which about this time I myself adopted. After glancing my eye over the design and order of a new book, I suspended the perusal till I had finished the task of self-examination, till I had revolved, in a solitary walk, all that I knew or believed, or had thought on the subject of the whole work, or of some parti- cular chapter : I was then qualified to discern how much the author added to my original stock ; and I was some- times satisfied by the agreement, I was sometimes armed by the opposition of our ideas. The favourite compa- nions of my leisure were our English writers since the Revolution : they breathe the spirit of reason and liberty; and the most seasonable contributed to restore the purity of my own language, which had been corrupted by the long use of a foreign idiom. By the judicious advice of Mr Mallet, I was directed to the writings of Swift and Addison ; wit and simplicity are their common attributes ; but the style of Swift is supported by manly original vigour ; that of Addison is adorned by the female graces 114 M'SELLE CURCHOD— AFTERWARDS MADAME NECKER. of elegance and mildness. The old reproach, that no British altars had been raised to the muse of history, was recently disproved by the first performances of Robertson and Hume, the histories, of Scotland and of the Stuarts. I will assume the presumption of saying, that I was not unworthy to read them : nor will I disguise my different feelings in the repeated perusals. The perfect composi- tion, the nervous language, the well-tuned periods of Dr. Robertson, inflamed me to the ambitious hope that 1 might one day tread in his footsteps : the calm philosophy, the careless inimitable beauties of his friend and rival, often forced me to close the volume with a mixed sensa- tion of delight and despair. CHAP. XIII. MR. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK. The design of my first work, the Essay on the Study of Literature, was suggested by a refinement of vanity, the desire of justifying and praising the object of a favour- ite pursuit. In France, to which my ideas were con- fined, the learning and language of Greece and Rome were neglected by a philosophic age. The guardian of those studies, the Academy of Inscriptions, was degraded to the lowest r'ank among the three royal societies of Paris : the new appellation of Erudits was contemptuously applied to the successors of Lipsius and Casaubon ; and I was provoked to hear (see M. d'Alembert, Discours preliminaire a TEncyclopedie) that the exercise of the memory, their sole merit, had been superseded by the nobler faculties of the imagination and the judgment. I was ambitious of proving by my own example, as well as by my precepts, that all the faculties of the mind may be exercised and displayed by the study of ancient litera- ture : I began to select and adorn the various proofs and illustrations which had offered themselves in reading the classics ; and the first pages or chapters of my essay were composed before my departure from Lausanne. The hurry of the journey, and of the first weeks of my English life, suspended all thoughts of serious applica- 116 MR. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK. tion : but my object was ever before my eyes ; and no more than ten days, from the first to the eleventh of July, were suffered to elapse after my summer establishment at Buriton. My essay was finished in about six weeks ; and as soon as a fair copy had been transcribed by one of the French prisoners atPetersfield, I looked round for a critic and judge of my first performance. A writer can seldom be content with the doubtful recompense of soli- tary approbation; but a youth, ignorant of the world and of himself, must desire to weigh his talents in some scales less partial than his own : my conduct was natural, my motive laudible, my choice of Dr. Maty judicious and fortunate. By descent and education Dr. Maty, though born in Holland, might be. considered as a Frenchman ; but he was fixed in London by the practice of physic, and an office in the British Museum. His reputation was justly founded on the eighteen volumes of the Journal Britan- nique, which he had supported, almost alone, with perse- verance and success. This humble though useful labour, which had once been dignified by the genius of Bayle and the learning of Le Clerc, was not disgraced by the taste, the knowledge, and the judgment of Maty : he exhibits a candid and pleasing view of the state of litera- ture in England during a period of six years (January, 1750 — December, 1755) ; and, far different from his angry son, he handles the rod of criticism with the ten- derness and reluctance of a parent. The author of the Joui'nal Britannique sometimes aspires to the character of a poet and philosopher : his style is pure and elegant ; and in his virtues, or even in his defects, he may be ranked as one of the last disciples of the school of Fon- MB. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK 117 tenelle. His answer to my first letter was prompt and polite : after a careful examination he returned my manu- script, with some animadversion and much applanse ; and when I visited London in the ensuing winter, we dis- cussed the design and execution in several free and fami- liar conversations. In a short excursion to Buriton 1 reviewed my essay, according to his friendly advice ; and after suppressing a third, adding a third, and altering a third, I consummated my first labour by a short pre- face, which is dated February 3rd, 1759. Yet I still shrunk from the press with the terrors of virgin modesty: the manuscript was safely deposited in my desk ; and as my attention was engaged by new objects, the delay might have been prolonged till I had fulfilled the precept of Horace, "nonumque prematur in annum." Father Sirmund, a learned Jesuit, was still more rigid, since he advised a young friend to expect the mature age of fifty, before he gave himself or his writings to the public. (Olivet, Histoire de I'Academie Frangaise torn. ii. p. 143.) The counsel was singular; but it is still more sin- gular that it should have been approved by the example of the author. Sirmond was himself fifty-five years of age when he published (in 1614) his first work, an edi- tion of Sidonius Apollinaris, with many valuable annota- tions. (See his life, before the great edition of his works in five volumes folio, Paris, 1696, e Typographic Regia). Two years elapsed in silence : but in the spring of 1761 I yielded to the authority of a parent, and compiled, like a pious son, with the wish of my own heart.* My Journal, March 8th, 1758.] — I began my Essay on the Study of Litera- ture, and wrote the first twenty-three chapters (excepting the following onea, 11, 12. 13, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22) before I left Switzerland. 113 MR. GIBBON TUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK- private resolves were influenced by the state of Europe. About this time the belligerent powers had made and accepted overtures of peace ; our English plenipoten- tiaries were named to assist at the Congress of Augs- burg, which never met ; I wished to attend them as a gentleman or a secretary ; and my father fondly beheved that the proof of some literary talents might introduce me to public notice, and second the recommendations of my friends. After a last revisal, I consulted with Mr Mallet and Dr. Maty, who approved the design, and promoted the execution. Mr. Mallet, after hearing me read my manuscript, received it from my hands, and delivered it into those of Becket, with whom he made an agreement in my name ; an easy agreement : I required only a cer- tain number of copies ; and, without transferring my property, I devolved on the bookseller the charges and July 11 th.] — I again took in hand my Essay ; and in about six weeks finished it, from C. 23—55 (excepting 27, 23, 39, 30, 31, 32, 33, and note to C. 88) besides a number of chapters from C. 55 to the end, which are now struck out. Feb. II, 1759.] — I wrote the chapters of my Essay, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, the note to C. 33, and the first part of the preface. April 23, 1761.] — Being at length, by my father's advice, determined to publish my essay, I revised it with great care, made many alterations, struck out a considerable part, and wrote the chapters from 57 — 58, wliich I was obliged myself to copy out fair, Jane 10th, 1761.] — Finding the printing of my book proceeded but slowly, I went up to town, where I found the whole was finished. I gavo Becket orders for the presents ; twenty for Lausanne; copies for the Duke of Richmond, Marquis of Carnarvon, Lords Waldegrave, Litchfiefd, Batfa, Granville, Bute, Shelbume, Chesterfield, Hardwicke, Lady Hervcy, Sir Joseph Yorke, Sir Matthew Featherstone, Messieurs Mallet, Maty, Scott, Wray, Lord Egremont, M. de Bussy, Mademoiselle la Duchesse d'Aiguillon, and M. le Compte de Caylus ; — great part of these were only nay father's or Mallet's acquaintance. MB. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK. 119 profits of the edition. Dr. Maty undertook, in my ab- sence, to correct the sheets : he inserted, without my knowledge, an elegant and flattering epistle to the author; which is composed, however, with so much art, that, in case of a defeat, his favourite report might have been ascribed to the indulgence of a friend for the rash attempt of a young English gentleman. The work was printed and published, under the title of Essai sar I'Etude de la Litterature, a Londres, chez T. Becket et P. A. de Hondt, 1761, in a small volume in duodecimo: my dedication to my father, a proper and pious address, was composed the twenty-eighth of May: Dr. Maty's letter is dated the 16th of June; and I received the first copy (June 23) at Al- resford, two days before I marched with the Hampshire militia. Some weeks afterwards, on the same ground, I presented my book to the late Duke of York, who break- fasted in Colonel Pitt's tent. By my father's direction, and Mallet's advice, many literary gifts were distributed to several eminent characters in England and France ; two books were sent to the Compte de Caylus, and the Duchesse d'Auiguillon, at Paris ; I had reserved twenty copies for my friends at Lausanne, as the first fruits of my education, and a grateful token of my remembrance : and on all these persons I levied an unavoidable tax of civility and compliment. It is not surprising that a work, of which the style and sentiments were so totally foreign, should have been more s-uccessful abroad than at home. I was delighted by the copious extracts, the warm com- mendations, and the flattering predictions of the jouraals of France and Holland; and the next year (1762) a new edition (I believe at Geneva) extended the fame, or ai 120 MB. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK. least the circulation of the work. In England it was received with cold indifference, little read, and speedily forgotten : a small impression was slowly dispersed ; the bookseller murmured, and the author, had his feelings been more exquisite, might have wept over the blunders and boldness of the English translation. The publication of my history fifteen years afterwards revived the me- mory of my first performance, and the essay was eagerly sought in the shops. But I refused the permission which Becket solicited of reprinting it : the public curiosity was imperfectly satisfied by a pirated copy of the booksellers of Dublin ; and when a copy of the origininal edition has been discovered in a sale, the primitive value of half a crown has risen to the fanciful price of a guinea or thirty shillings. I have expatiated on the petty circumstances and period of my first publication, a memorable aera in the life of a student, when he ventures to reveal the measure of his mind : his hopes and fears are multiplied by the idea of self-importance, and he believes for a while that ihe eyes of mankind are fixed on his person and per- formance. Whatever may be my present reputation, it no longer rests on the merit of this first essay ; and at the end of twenty-eight years I may appreciate my juvenile work with the impartiality, and almost with the indifference, of a stranger. In his answer to Lady Hervey, the Corate de Caylus admires, or affects to ad- mire, " les livres sans nombre que Mr. Gibbon a lus et tres bien lus*." But, alas ! my stock of erudition at that time was scanty and superficial ; and, if I allow myself * See Letter, No. X. MR GIBBON rUBLISFIES HIS FIRST WORK. 121 the liberty of naming the Greek masters, my genuine and personal acquaintance was confined to the Latin classics. The most serious defect of my Essay is a kind of ob- scurity and abruptness which always fatigues, and may often elude, the attention of the reader. Instead of a precise and proper definition of the title itself, the sense of the word Litterature is loosely and variously applied : a number of remarks and examples, historical, critical, philosophical, are heaped on each other without method or connection : and if we except some introductory pages, all the remaining chapters might indifferently be reversed or transposed. The obscurity of many pas- sages is often affected, "brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio;" the desire of expressing perhaps a common idea w^ith sententious and oracular brevity : alas ! how fatal has been the imitation of Montesquieu ! But this obscurity sometimes proceeds from a mixture of light and darkness m the author's mind ; from a partial ray which strikes upon an angle, instead of spreading itself over the surface of an object. After this fair confession I shall presume to say, that the Essay does credit to a young writer of two and twenty years of age, who had read with taste, who thinks with freedom, and who writes in a foreign language with spirit and elegance. The defence of the early History of Rome and the iN'ew Chronology of Sir Isaac Newton form a specious argument. The patriotic and political design of the Georgics is happily conceived ; and any probable conjecture, which tends to raise the dignity of the poet and the poem, deserves to be adopted, without a rigid scrutiny. Some dawnings of a philo- sophic spirit enlighten the geliferal remarks on the study of history and of man. I am not displeased with the in- quiry mio the origin and nature of the gods of polytheism, 1C2 MR. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK. M'hich might deserve the illustration of a riper judgment. Upon the whole, I may apply to the first labour of my pen the speech of a far superior artist, when he surveyed the first productions of his pencil. After viewing some portraits w'hich he had painted in his youth, my friend Sir Joshua Reynolds acknowledged to me, that he was rather humbled than flattered by the comparison with his present works ; and that after so much time and study, he had conceived his improvement to be much greater than he found it to have been. At Lausanne I composed the first chapters of my Essay in French, the Familiar language of my conver- sation and studies, in which it was easier for me to write than in my mother-tongue. After my return to England I continued the same practice, without any affectation, or design of repudiating (as Dr. Bentley would say) my ver- nacular idiom. But I should have escaped some anti- gallican clamour, had I been content with the more na- tural character of an English author. I should have been more consistent had I rejected Mallet's advice, of prefixing an English dedication to a French book; a confusion of tongues that seemed to accuse the ignorance of my patron. The use of a foreign dialect might be ex- cused by the hope of being employed as a negotiator, by the desire of being generally understood on the Continent ; but my true motive was doubtless the ambition of new and singular fame, an Englishman claiming a place among the writers of France. The Latin tongue had been con- secrated by the service of the church, it was refined by the imitation of the ancients ; and in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the scholars of Europe enjoyed the advantage, which they gradually resigned, of conver- sing and writing in a common and learned idiom. As that MR. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS 'FIRST WORK. 123 idiom was no longer in any country the vulgar speech, they all stood on a level with each other ; yet a citizen of old Rome might have smiled at the best Latinity of the Germans and Britons : and we may learn from the Ciceronianus of Erasmus, how difficult it was found to steer a middle course between pedantry and barbarism. The Romans themselves had sometimes attempted a more perilous task, of writing in a living language, and appealing to the taste and judgment of the natives. The vanity of Tully was doubly interested in the Greek memoirs of his own consulship ; and if he modestly supposes that some Latinisms might be detected in his style, he is confident of his own skill in the art of Isocrates and Aristotle ; and he requests his friend Atticus to disperse the copies of his work at Athens, and in the other cities of Greece. (Ad Atticum, i. 19, ii. 1.) But it must not be forgotten, that from infancy to manhood Cicero and his contemporaries had read, and declaimed, and com-t posed with equal diligence in both languages ; and that he was not allowed to frequent a Latin school till he had imbibed the lessons of the Greek grammarians and rhe- toricians. In modern times, the language of France has been diffused by the merit of her writers, the social manners of the natives, the influence of the monarchy, and the exile of the Protestants. Several foreigners have seized the opportunity of speaking to Europe in this common dialect, and Germany may p^d the authority of Leibnitz and Frederick, of the first of her pliilosophers, and the greatest of her kings. The just pride and laud- able prejudice of England has restrained this communi- cation of idioms ; and of all the nations on this side of the Alps, my countrymen are the least practiced and least perfect in the exercise of the French tongue. By 124 MR. GIBBON PUBLISHES HIS FIRST WORK. Sir William Temple and Lord Chesterfield it was only used on occasions of civility and business, and their printed letters will not be quoted as models of composi- tion. Lord Bolingbroke may have pubUshed in French a sketch of his Reflections on Earle : but his reputation now reposes on the address of Voltaire, " Docte sermones utriusque linguae ;" and by his English dedication to Queen Caroline, and his Essay on Epic Poetry, it should seem that Voltaire himself wished to deserve a return of the same compliment. The exception of Count Hamilton cannot fairly be urged ; though an Irishman by birth, he was educated in France from his childhood. Yet I am surprised that a long residence in England, and the habits of domestic conversation, did not affect the ease and purity of his inimitable style ; and I regret the omission of his English verses, which might have afTordcd an amusing object of comparison. 1 might therefore assume the primus ego in patriam, ^c. ; but with what success I have explored this untrodden path must be left to the decision of my French readers. Dr. Maty, who might himself be questioned as a foreigner, has secured his retreat at my expense. " Je ne crois pas que vous vous piquiez d'6tre moins facile a recon- naitre pour un Anglais que LucuUus pour un Romain.** My friends at Paris have been more indulgent, they re- ceived me as a countryman, or at least as a provincial ; but they were friends and Parisians. The defects which Maty insmuates, " Ces traits saillans, ces figures hardies, ce sacrifice de la regie au sentiment, et de la ca- dence a la force," are the faults of the youth, rather than of the stranger : and after the long and laborious exer- cise of my own language, I am conscious that my French style has been ripened and improved. CHAP. XIV. THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. I have already hinted, that the publication of my Essay was delayed till I had embraced the military pro- fession. I shall now amuse myself with the recollec- tion of an active scene, which bears no affinity to any other period of my studious and social life. In the outset of a glorious war, the English people had been defended by the aid of German mercenaries. A national militia has been the cry of every patriot since the Revolution ; and this measure, both in parliament and in the field, was supported by the country gentlemen or Tories, who insensibly transferred their loyalty to the house of Hanover : in the language of Mr. Burke, they have changed the idol, but they have preserved the idolatry. In the act of offering our names and receiv- ing our commissions, as major and captain in the Hamp- shire regiment, (June 12th, 1759,) we had not supposed that we should be dragged away, my father from his farm, myself from my books, and condemned during two years and a half, (May 10, 1760— December 23, 1762,) to a wandering life of military servitude. But a weekly or monthly exercise of thirty-thousand provincials would have left them useless and ridiculous ; and after the pre- tence of an invasion had vanished, the popularity of Mr. 126 THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRK MILITIA. Pitt gave a sanction to the illegal step of keeping them till the end of the war under arms, in constant pay and duty, and at a distance from their respective homes. When the King's order for our embodying came down, it was too late to retreat, and too soon to repent. The South battalion of the Hampshire militia was a small in- dependent corps of four hundred and seventy-six, officers and men, commanded by lieutenant-colonel Sir Thomas Worsley, who, after a prolix and passionate- contest, de- livered us from the tyranny of the lord lieutenant, the Duke of Bolton. My proper station, as first captain, was at the head of my own, and afterwards of the gre- nadier company ; but in the absence, or even in the presence, of the two field officers, I was entrusted by my friend and my father with the effective labour of dicta- ting the orders, and exercising the battalion. With the help of an original journal, I could write the history of my bloodless and inglorious campaigns ; but as these events have lost much of their importance in my own eyes, they shall be dispatched in a few words. From Winchester, the first place of assembly, (June 4, 1760,) we were removed, at our own request, for the benefit of a foreign education. By the arbitrary, and often capricious, orders of the War-office, the battalion successively marched to the pleasant and hospitable Blandford (June 17) ; to tlilsea barracks, a seat of di- sease and discord (September 1) ; to Cranbrook in the Weald of Kent (December 11) ; to the sea-coast of Dover (December 27) ; to Winchester camp (June 25, 1761) ; to the populous and disorderly town of Devizes (October 23); to Salisbury (February 28, 1762); to our beloved THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. TQ7 Blandford a second time (March 9) ; and finally, to the fashionable resort of Southampton (June 2) ; where the colours were fixed till our final dissolution (December 23). On the beach at Dover we had exercised in sight of the Gallic shores. But the most splendid and useful scene of our life was a four months encampment on Win- chester Down, under the command of the Earl of Effing- ham. Our army consisted of the thirty-fourth regiment of foot and six militia corps. The consciousness of our defects was stimulated by friendly emulation. We im- proved our time and opportunities in morning and even- ing field days: and in the general reviews the South Hampshire were rather a credit than a disgrace to the line. In our subsequent quarters of the Devizes and Blandford, we advanced with a quick step in our military st,udies ; the ballot of the ensuing summer renewed oui; vigour and youth ; and had the militia subsisted another year, we might have contested the prize with the most perfect of our brethren. The loss of so many busy and idle hours was not com- pensated by any elegant pleasure ; and my temper was insensibly soured by the society of our rustic officers. In every state there exists, however, a balance of good and evil. The habits of a sedentary life were usefully broken by the duties of an active profession : in the healthful exercise of the field I hunted with a batallion, instead of a pack ; and at that time I was ready at any hour of the day or night, to fly from quarters to London, from Lon- don to quarters, on the slightest call of private or regi- mental business. But my principal obligation to the militia, was the making me an Englishman and a soldier. 128 THE AUTIIOE IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. After my foreign education, with my reserved temper, I should long have continued a stranger in my native coun- try, had I not been shaken in this various scene of new faces and new friends : had not experience forced me to feel the characters of our leading men, the state of parties, the forms of office, and the operation of our civil and military system. In this peaceful service, I imbibed the rudiments of the language and science of tactics, which opened a new field of study and observation, I diligently read, and meditated, the Memoires Militaires of Quintus Icilius, (Mr. Guichardt), the only writer who has united the merits of a professor and a veteran. The discipline and evolutions of a modern battalion gave me a clearer notion of the phalanx and the legion ; and the captain of the Hampshire grenadiers (the reader may smile) has not been useless to the historian of the Roman empire. A youth of any spirit is fired even by the play of arms, and in the first sallies of my enthusiasm I had seriously attempted to embrace the regular profession of a soldier. But this military fever was cooled by the enjoyment of our mimic Bellona, who soon unveiled to my eyes her naked deformity. How often did I sigh for my proper station in society and letters. How often (a proud com- parison) did I repeat the complaint of Cicero in the com- mand of a provincial army : " Clitellse bovi sunt impositse. Est incredibile quam me negotii tjedeat. Non habet satis magnum campum ille tibi non ignotus cursus animi ; et industrisB meae pra^clara opera ccssat. Lucem, libros, urbem, domum, vos desidero. Sed feram, ut potero ; sit modo annum. Si prorogatur, actum est-"* From a ser- * Epifit. ad Atticum, lib. v. 15. THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. 123 vice without danger, I might indeed have retired without disgrace ; but as often as I hinted a wish of resigning, my fetters were riveted by the friendly entreaties of the colonel, the parental authority of the major, and my own regard for the honour and welfare of the battalion. When I felt that my personal escape was impracticable, I bowed my neck to the yoke : ray servitude was pro- tracted far beyond the annual patience of Cicero ; and it was not till after the preliminaries of peace that I received my discharge from the act of government which disembodied the militia.* •Journal, January 11, 1761.] — In these seven or eight months of a most disagreeably active life, I have had no studies to set down : indeed, I hardly took a book in my hand the whole time. The first two months at Bland- ford, I might have done something; but the novelty of the thing, of which for some time I was so fond as to think of going into the ai-my, our field days, our dinners abroad, and the drinking and late hours we got into, pre- vented any serious reflections. From the day we marched from Bland- ford I had hardly a moment I could call my own, almost continualTy in motion ; if I was fixed for a day, it was in the guard room, a barrack, or an inn. Our disputes consumed the little time I had left. Every letter, every memorial relative to them fell to my share ; and our evening conferences were used to hear all the morning hours strike. At last I got to Dover and Sir Thomas left us for two months. The charm was over, I was sick of so hateful a service ; I was settled in a comparatively quiet situation. Once more I began to taste the pleasure of thinking. Recollecting some thoughts I had formerly had in relation to the system of Paganism, which I intended to make use of in my Essay, I resolved to read Tully de Natura Deorum, and finished it in about a month. I lost some time before 1 could recover my habit of application. October 23rd.] — Our first design was to march to Marlborough ; but find- ing on inquiry that it was a bad road and a great way about, we resolved to push for the Devizes in one day, though nearly thirty miles. We accord- ingly arrived there about three o'clock in the afternoon. Nov. 2ad.]— I have very little to say for this and the following month. 130 THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMrSHlRE MILITIA. When I complain of the loss of time, justice to myself and to the militia must throw the greatest part of that Nothing could be more uniform than the life I led there. The little civdlity of the neighboring gentlemen gave us no opportunity of dining out ; the time of year did not tempt us to any excursions round the country; and at first my indolence, and afterwards a violent cold, prevented my going over to Bath. I believe in the two months I never dined or lay from quarters. I can therefore only set down what I did in the Uterary way. Designing to recover my Greek, which I bad somewhat neglected, I set myself to read Homer, and finished the four first books of the Iliad, with Pope's translation and notes ; at the same time, to understand the geography of the Iliad, and particularly the catalogue, I read the 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 13ih, and 14th books of Strabo, in Casaubon's Latin translation; I likewise read Hume's History of England to the reign of Henry the Seventh, just pub- lished, ingenious but superficial; and the Journals deg Savans, for August, September, and October, 17G1, with tlie Bibliotheque des Sciences, &c. from July to October ; both these Journals speak very handsomely of my book. December 25th, 17C1.] — When, upon finishing the year, I take a review of what I have done, I am not dissatisfied with wJiat I did in it, upon making proper allowances. On the one hand, I could begin nothing before the middle of January. The Deal duty lost me part of February; although I was at homo part of March, and all April, yet electioneering is no friend to the Muses. May, indeed, though dissipated by our sea parties, was pretty quiet, but June was absolutely lost, upon the march, at Alton, and settling ourselves in camp. The four succeeding months in camp allowed melittlo leisure and little quiet. November and December were indeed as much my own as any time can be whilst I remain in the militia ; but still it is, at best, not a life for a man of letters. However, in this tumultuous year, (besides smaller things which I have set down), I read four books of Homer in Greek, six of Strabo in Latin, Cicero de Natura Deomm, and the great p'ai'osophical and theological work of M. de Beausobre; I v\ rote ia the samtime along dissertation on the succession of Naples; reviewed, fitted for the press, and augmented above a fourth, my Essai surl'Etude do la Littc'rature. In the BIX weeks I passed at Boriton, as I never stirred from it, every day was like the former. I had neither visits, hunting, nor walking. My only THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. 131 reproach on the first seven or eight months, while I was obliged to learn as well as to teach. The dissipation of resources were myself, my books, and family conversations. — But to me tbese were great resources. April 24th, 1762.] — I waited upon Colonel Hervey in the morning, to get him to apply for me to be brigade-major to Lord EiSugham, as a post I should be very fond of, and for which I am not unfit, Hervey received me with great good-nature and candour, told me he was both willing and ablo to serve me; that indeed be had already applied to Lord Effingham for *****, one of his own officers, and though there would be more than one brigade-major, he did not thiuk he could properly recommend two ; but that if I could get some other person to break the ice, he would second it, and beheved he should succeed ; should that fail, as * * * * * was in bad circomstances, he believed he could make a compromise with him (this was my desire) to let me do the duty without pay. I went from him to the Malleis, who promised to get Sir Charles Howard to speak to Lord Effingham. August 22nd.] — I went with Ballard to the French church where I heard a most indifferent sermon preached by M*'****, A very bad style, a worse pronunciation and action, and a very great vacuity of ideas, com- posed this excellent performance. Upon the whole, which is preferable, the philosophic method of the English, or the rhetoric of the French preachers? The first, (though less glorious) is certainly safer for the preacher. It is difficult for a man to make himself ridiculous, who pro- poses only to deliver plain sense on a subject he has thoroughly studied. But the instant he discovers the least pretensions tovrards the sublime, or the pathetic, there is no medium; wb must either admire or laugh; and there £U-e so many various talents requisite to form the character of an orator, that it is more than probable we shall laugh. As to the advantage of the hearer, which ought to be the great consideration, the dilemma is much greater. Excepting in some particular cases, where we are blinded by popular pre- judices, we are in general so well acquainted with our duty, that it is almost superfluous to convince us of it. It is the heart, and not the head, that holds out : and it is certainly "possible, by a moving eloquence, to rouse the sleeping sentiments of that heart, and incite it to acts of virtue. Un- luckily it is not so much acts, as habits of virtue, we should have in view ; and the preacher, who is inculcating, with the eloquence of a Bourdaloue, 132 THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. Blandford, and the disputes of Portsmouth, consumed the necessity of a virtuous life, ■will dismiss his assembly full of emotions, which a variety of other objects, the coldness of our northern constitutions, and no immediate opportunity of exerting their good resolutions, will dissi- pate in a few moments. August 24th.] — The same reason that carried so many people to the as- sembly to-night, was what kept me away ; I mean the daucing,. 28th.] — To-day Sir Thomas came to us to dinner. Tho Spa has done him a great deal of good, for he looks another man. Pleased to see him, we kept bumperizing till after roll-calling ; Sir Thomas assuring us, every fresh bottle, how infinitely sober lie was grown. 29th.] — I felt the usual consequences of Sir Thomas's company, and lost a moraing because I had lost the day before. However, having finished Vol- taire, I returned to Le Clerc, (I mean for the amusement of my leisure hours) ; and laid aside for some time his Bibliotheque Uuiverselle, to look into the Bibliotheque Choisie, which is by far the better work. September the 23rd.] — Colonel Wilkes, of the Buckinghamshire Militia, dined with us, and renewed the acquaintance Sir Thomas and myself had begun with him at Reading. I scarcely ever met with a better companion; he has inexhaustible spirits, infinite wit and humour, and a great deal of knowledge. He told us liiniself, that in this time of pubhc dissension, he was resolved to make his fortune. Upon this pi-iuciple, he has connected himself closely with Lord Temple and Mr. Pitt, commenced a public adversary to Lord Bute, v/hom he abuses weekly in the North Briton, and other political papers in which ho is concerned. This proved a very de- bauched day: we drank a good deal both after diuuev and supper; and when at last Wilkes had retired, Sir Thomas and some others (of whom I was not one) broke into his room, and made him drink a bottle of claret in bed. October 5th.] — The review, which lasted about three hours, concluded, .as usual, with marching by Lord Elfingham, by grand divisions. Upon the whole, considering the camp had done both tho \\'iiichester and the Gos- ■port duties all the summer, thoy behaved vory well, and mode a fine appearance. As they marched by, 1 had my usual curiosity to count their files. The following is my field return, I tliink it a curiosity; I am sure h is more exact than is commonly made to a reviewing general. THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. 133 the hours wliich were not employed in the field ; and Numbes of files. Number of men. Establishment. Berskhire, W. Essex, S. Glo'ster, N. Glo'ster, Lancashire, Wiltshire, Grenadiers, 19 Battalion, 72 Grenadiers, 15 Battalion, 80 Grenadiers, 20 Battalion, 84 ^ Grenadiers, 13 ) Battalion, 52 J Grenadiers, 20 Battalion, 88 Grenadiers, 24 Battalion, 24 I 120 S 91 95 94 C5 108 144 273 285 312 195 324 432 1821 . 560 . 480 . 600 . 360 . 800 . SOO 3600 Total, 6077 N. B. The Gosport detachment from tne Lancashire consisted of two hundred and fifty men. The Buckinghamshire took the Winchester duty that day. So that this camp in England, supposed complete, with only one detach- ment, had under arms, on the day of the grand review, but little more than half their establishment. This amazing deficiency, (though exemplified in every regiment I have seen) is an extraordinary military phenomenon ; what must it be upon foreign service ? I doubt whether a nominal army of a hundred thousand men often brings fifty into the field. Upon our return to Southampton in the evening, we found Sir Thomas Worsley. October 2lst.] — One of those impulses, which it is neither very easy nor very necessary to withstand, drew me from Longinus to a very different subject, the Greek Calendar. Last night, when in bed, I was thinking of a dissertation of M. de la Nauze upon the Roman Calendar, which I read last year. This led me to consider what was the Greek, and finding myself very ignorant of it, I determined to read a short, but very excellent extract of Mr. DodweU's book De Cychs, by the famous Dr. Halley. It is only twenty*five pages ; but as I meditated it thoroughly, and verified all the calculations, it was a very good morning's work. October 28th.] — I looked over a new Greek Lexicon, which I have just received from London. It is that of Robert ConstanUne, Lugdun, 1637. It is a very large volume in folio, in two parts, comprising in the whole 1785 pages. After the great Thesaurus, this is esteemed the best Greek Lexicon. It seems to be so. Of a variety of words for which I looked, I always found 134 THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. amid the perpetual hurry of an inn, a barrack, or a guard- an exact definition; the various senses well distinguished and properly eap- ported, by the best aathorities. However, I still prefer the radical method of Scapula to this alphabetical one. December llth ] — I have already given an idea of the Gosport duty; I Bhali only add a trait which characterises admirably our unthinking sailors. Ala time when they knew that they should infallibly be discharged in a few weeks, numbers, who had considei-able wages due to them, were continu- ally jumping over the walls, and risking the losing of it for a few hours' amusement at Portsmouth. 17th.] — We found old Captain Meard at Alresford, with the second divi- sion of the fourteenth. He and all his officers supped with as, and made the evening rather a drunken one. 18th.] — About the same hour our two corps paraded to march off: they, an old corps of regulars, who had been two years quiet in Dover castle ; we, part of a young body of militia, twcthirds of our men recruits of fonr months standing, two of which they had passed upon very disagreeable duty. Every advantage was on their side, and yet our superiority, both as to appearance and discipline, was so striking, that the most prejudiced regular could not have hesitated a moment. At the end of the town our two companies separated : my father's struck off for Petersfield, whilst I continued my rout to Alton; into which place I marched my com- pany about noon; two years sis months and fifteen days after my first leaving it. I gave the men some beer at roll-calling, which they received with great cheerfulness and decency. I dined and lay at Harrison's, where I was received with that old-fashioned breeding which is at once so honour- able and so troublesome. 23rd.] — Our two companies were disembodied: mine at Alton, and my father's at Buriton. Smith marched them over from Petersfield : they fired three volleys, lodged the major's colours, delivered up their arms, received then- money, partook of a dinner at the major's expense, and then separated with great cheerfulness and regularity. Thus ended the militia ; I may say ended, smce our annual assemblies in May are so very precarious, and can be of so little use. However, our sergeants and drums are still kept up, and quartered at the rendezvous of their company, and the adjutant remains at Southampton in full pay. As this was an extraordinary ECGDc of life, ill wbicli I was engsged abovo tlirce years and a half fi-om the date of my commifisioiii and above two THE AUTHOR IN THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. 135 room, all literary ideas were banished from my mind. years and a half from the time of our embodying, I cannnt take my leave of it without some few reflections. When I engaged in it, I was totally ignorant of its nature and consequences. I offered, because my father did, without ever imagining that we should be called out, till it was too late to retreat with honour. Indeed, I believe it happens throughout, that our most im- portant actions have been often determined by chance, caprice, or some very inadequate motive. After our embodying, many things contributed to make me support it with impatience. Our continual disputes with the Duke of Bolton ; our unsettled way of life, which hardly allowed me books or leisure for study ; and, more than all, the disagreeable society in which I was forced to live. After mentioning my sufferings, I must say something of what I found agi-eeable. Now it is over, I can make the separation much better than I could at the time. 1. The unsettled way of life itself had its advantages. The exercise and change of air and of objects amused me, at the same time that it fortified my health. 2. A new field of knowledge and amuse- ment opened itself to me ; that of military affairs, which both in my studies and travels, will give me eyes for a new world of things, which before would have passed unheeded. Indeed, in that respect I can hardly help wishing our battalion had continued another year. We had got a fine set of new men, all our difficulties were over ; we were perfectly well clothed and appointed ; and, from the progress our recruits had already made, we could promise ourselves that we should bo one of the best militia corps by next summer : a circumstance that would have been tho more agreeable to me, as I am now established the real acting major of the battalion. Bnt what I value most, is the knowledge it has given me of mankind in general, and of my own country in particular. The general system of our govern- ment, the methods of our several offices, the departments and powers of their respective ofiBcers, our provincial and municipal administration, the views of our several parties , the characters, connexions, and influence of onr principal people, have been impressed on my mind, not by vain theory, but by the indellible lessons of action and experience. I have made a num- ber of valuable acquaintances, an d am myself much better known, than ( with my reserved character) I should have been in ten years, passing regularly my summers at Beritou, and my winters in London. So that the sum of all is, I am glad the militia has been, aud glad that it is no more. CHAP. XV. THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. After this long fast, the longest which I have ever known, I once more tasted at Dover the pleasures of reading and thinking ; and the hungry appetite with which I opened a volume of Tally's philosophical works is still present to my memory. The last review of my essay before its publication, had prompted me to investi- gate the natui^e of the gods ; my inquiries led me to the Histoire Critique du Manicheisme of Beausobre, who dis- cusses many deep questions of pagan and christian the- ology ; and from this rich treasury of facts and opinions, I deduced my own consequences, beyond the holy circle of tiie author. After this recovery I never relapsed into indolence ; and my example might prove, that in the life most averse to study, some hours may be stolen, some minutes may be snatched. Amidst the tumult of Win- chester camp I sometimes thought and read in my tent ; in the more settled quarters of the Devizes, Blandford, and Southampton, I always secured a separate lodging, and the necessary books; and in the summer of 1762, while the new militia was raising, I enjoyed at Beriton two or three months of literary repose.* In forming a •Journal, May 8th, 17(5i2.] — This was my birth-day, on which I en- tered into the twenty-sixth year of my age. This gave me occasion to look THE AUTHOR RESUMKS HIS STUDIES. 137 new plan of study, I hesitated between the mathematics and the Greek language ; both of which I had neglected since my return from Lausanne. I consulted a learned and friendly mathematician, Mr. George Scott, a pupil of De Moivre ; and his map of a country which I have never explored may perhaps be more serviceable to others.* As soon as I had given the preference to Greek, the exam- ple of Scaliger and my own reason determined me on the choice of Homer, the father of poetry, and the Bible of the ancients : but Scaliger ran through the Iliad in one and twenty days ; and I was not dissatisfied with my own diligence for performing the same labour in an equal number of weeks. After the first difficulties were sur- mounted, the language of nature and harmony soon be- came easy and familiar ; and each day I sailed upon the ocean with a brisker gale and a more steady course. a little into myself, and consider impartially my good and bad qualities. It appeared to me, upon this inquiry, that my character was vii-tuous, incapa- ble of a base action, and fonned for generous ones ; but that it was proud, violent, and disagreeable in society. These qualities I must endeavour to cultivate, extirpate, or resti-ain, according to their different tendency. Wit I have none. My imagination is rather strong than pleasing. My memory both capacious and retentive. The shining qualities of my understanding are extensiveness and penetration ; but I want both quickness and exact- ness. As to my situation in life, though I may sometimes repine at it, it perhaps is the best adapted to my character. I can command all the con- veniences of life, and I can command too that independence, (that first earthly blessing) which is hardly to be met within a higher or lower fortune, "When I talk of my situation, I must exclude that temporary one, of being in the militia. Though I go through with spirit and application, it is unfit for and unworthy of me. * See Letter, No. XIV. excellent, (rom Mr. Scott to Mr. Gibbon. 138 THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. 'H xara xv/Aa (Jiai'pvjrfo'ouo'a xsXEu^a.* — llias.A.. 481. In the study of a poet who has since become the most intimate of my friends, I successively applied many pas- sages and fragments of Greek writers ; and among these I shall notice a hfe of Homer, in the Opuscula Mytholo- gica of Gale, several books of the geography of Strabo, and the entire treatise of Longinus, which, from the title and the style, is equally worthy of the epithet of sublime. My grammatical skill was improved, my vocabulary was enlarged ; and in the militia I acquired a just and indeli- ble knowledge of the first of languages. On every march, in every journey, Horace was always in my pocket, and often in my hand ; but I should not mention his two critical epistles, the amusement of a morning, had they not been accompanied by the elaborate com- mentary of Dr. Hurd, now Bishop of Worcester. On the interesting subjects of composition and imitation of epic and dramatic poetry, I presumed to think for myself ; and thirty close written pages in folio could scarcely comprise my full and free discussion of the sense of the master and the pedantry of the servant. After his oracle Dr. Johnson, my friend Sir Joshua Reynolds denies all original genuis, any natural propen- » Fair wind, and blowing fresb, Apollo sent Ihem ; quick they rcar'd the mast, Then spread th' unsullied canvas to the gale, And the wind fiU'd it. Koar'd the sable flood Around the bark, that ever as she went Dash'd wide the brine, and scudded swift away. — Cowper's Homer. THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. 130 sity of the mind to one art or science rather than another. Without engaging in a metaphysical or rather verbal dispute, I know, by experience, that from my early youth I aspired to the character of an historian. While I served in the militia, before and after the publi- cation of my essay, this idea ripened in my mind ; nor can I paint in more lively colours the feehngs of the moment, than by transcribing some passages, under their respective dates, from a journal which I kept at that time. "Beriton, April 14, 1761. — (In a short excursion from Dover.) — Having thought of several subjects for an his- torical composition, I chose the expedition of Charles VIII. of France into Italy. I read two memoirs of Mr. De Foncemagne in the Academy of Inscriptions (torn, xvii. p. 539 — 607), and abstracted them. I likewise finished this day a dissertation, in which I examine the right of Charles VIII. to the crown of Naples, and the rival claims of the House of Anjou and Arragon : it con- sists of ten folio pages, besides large notes." "Beriton, August 4, 1761. — (In a week's excursion from Winchester Camp.) — After having long revolved subjects for my intended historical essay, I renounced my first thought of the expedition of Charles VIII. as too remote from us, and rather an introduction to great events, than great and important in itself. I succes- sively chose and rejected the Crusade of Richard the First, the barons' wars against John and Henry the Third, the history of Edward the Black Prince, the lives and comparisons of Henry V. and the Emperor Titus, the life of Sir Philip Sydney, and that of the Marquis of 140 THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. Montrose. At length I have fixed on Sir Walter Raleigh for nay hero. His eventful story is varied by the characters of the soldier and sailor, the courtier and historian ; and it may afford such a fund of materials as I desire, which have not yet been properly manufactured. At present I cannot attempt the execution of this work. Free leisure, and the opportunity of consulting many books, both printed and manuscript, are as necessary as they are impossible to be attained in my present way of life. However, to acquire a general insight into my subject and resources, I read the life of Sir Walter Raleigh by Dr. Birch, his copious article in the General Dictionary by the same hand, and the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and James the First, in Hume's History of England." "Beriton, January, 17G2. — (In a month's absence from the Devizes.) — During this interval of repose, I again turned my thoughts to Sir Walter Raleigh, and looked more closely into my materials. I read the two volumes in quarto of the Bacon papers, published by Dr. Birch : the Fragmenta Regalia of Sir Robert Naunton, Mallet's Life of Lord Bacon, and the political treatises of that great man in the first volume of his works, with many of his letters in the second ; Sir William Monson's Naval Tracts, and the elaborate life of Sir Walter Raleigh, which Mr. Oldys has prefixed to the best edition of his History of the World. My subject opens upon me, and in general improves upon a nearer prospect." " Beriton, July 26, 17G2 — (During my summer resi- dence.) — I am afraid of being reduced to drop my hero; but my time has not, however, been lost in the research of his story, and of a memorable sera of our English THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. 141 annals. The Life of Sir Walter Raleigh, by Oldys, is a very poor performance ; a servile panegyric, or flat apology, tediously minute, and composed in a dull and affected style. Yet the author was a man of diligence and learning, who had read every thing relative to his subject and whose ample collections are arranged with perspicuity and method. Excepting some anecdotes lately revealed in the Sydney and Bacon papers, 1 know not what I should be able to add. My ambition (ex- clusive of the uncertain merit of style and sentiment) must be confined to the hope of giving a good abridg- ment of Oldys. 1 have even the disappointment of find- ing some parts of this copious work dry and barren ; and these parts are unluckily some of the most charac- teristic : Raleigh's colony of Virginia, his quarrels with Essex, the true seci-et of his conspiracy, and above all, the detail of his private life, the most essential and im- portant to a biographer. My best resource would be in the circumjacent history of the tinies, and perhaps in some digressions artfully introduced, like the fortunes of the peripatetic philosophy in the portrait of Lord Bacon. But the reigns of Elizabeth and James the First arc the periods of English history, which have been the most variously illustrated : and what new lights could I reflect on a subject, which has exercised the accurate industry of Birch, the lively and curious acuteness of Walpole, the critical spirit of Hurd, the vigorous sense of Mallet and Robertson, and the impartial philosophy of Hume?- Could t even surmount these obstacles, I should shrink with terror from the modern history of England, where every character is a problem, and every reader a friend 142 THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. or an enemy ; where a writer is supposed to hoist a flag of party, and is devoted to damnation by the adverse faction. Such would be my reception at home ; and abroad the historian of Raleigh must encounter an in- difference far more bitter than censure or i-eproach. The events of his life are interesting ; but his character is ambiguous, his actions are obscure, his writings are English, and his fame is confined to the narrow limits of our language and our island. I must embrace a safer and more extensive theme. " There is one which I should prefer to all others, the History of the Liberty of the Swiss, of that independ- ence which a brave people rescued from the house of Austria, defended against a Dauphin of France, and finally sealed with the blood of Charles of Bergundy. From such a theme, so full of public spirit, of military glory, of examples of virtue, of lessons of government, the dullest stranger would catch fire : what might not / hope, whose talents, whatsoever they may be, would be inflamed with the zeal of patriotism. But the materials of this history are inaccessable to me, fast locked in the obscurity of an old barbarous German dialect, of which I am totally ignorant, and which I cannot resolve to learn for this sole and peculiar purpose. " I have another subject in view, which is the con- trast of the former history : the one a poor, warlike, virtuous republic, which emerges into glory and freedom ; the other a commonwealth, soft, opulent, and corrupt ; which, by just degrees, is precipitated from the |l)usc to the loss of her liberty : both lessons arc, perhaps, equally instructive. This second subject is, the History of the THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. 143 Republic of Florence under the house qf Medicis : a pe- riod of one hundred and fifty years, which rises or de- scends from the dregs of the Florentine democracy, to the title and dominion of Cosmo de Medicis in the grand duchy ot Tuscany. I might deduce a chain of revolu- tions not unworthy the pen of Vertot ; singular men, and singular events ; the Medicis four times expelled, and as often recalled ; and the Genius of Freedom, reluctantly yielding to the arms of Charles V. and the policy of Cosmo. The character and fate of Savanerola, and the revival of arts and letters in Italy, will be essentially con- nected with the elevation of the family and the fall of the republic. The Medicis (stirps quasi fataliter nota ad instauranda vel fovenda studia. Lipsius ad Germanos et Gallos, Epist. viii.) were illustrated by the patronage of Learning ; and enthusiasm was the most formidable weapon of their adversaries. On this splendid subject I shall most probably fix ; but vjhen, or where, or how will it be executed? I behold in a dark and doubtful perspective." Res alts terrtt, et caligine mersaa.* * JooRNAL, July 27, 1762.] — The reflections which I was making yester- day, I continued and digested to-day. I don't absolutely look on that time as lost, but that it might have been bettor employed than in revolv- ing schemes, the execution of which is so far distant. I must learn to check these wanderings of my imagination. Nov 24.] — I dined at the Cocoa Tree with **** ' : who, under a great appearance of oddity, conceals more real honour, good sense, and even knowledge, than half those who laugh at him. We went thence to the play (the Spanish Friar); and when it was over, returned to the Cocoa Tree. That respectable body, of which I have the honour of being a mem- ber affords every evening a sight truly English. Twenty or thirty, per- 144 THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. haps, of the first men in the kingdom, iu point of fashion and fortune, sup- ping at little tables covered with a napkin, in the middle of a coffee-room, upon a bit of cold meat, or a sandwich, and drinking a glass of punch. At present, we are full of king's counsellors and lords of the bedchanlber ; who, having jumped into the ministry, make a very singular medley of their old principles and language with their modern ones. Nov. 26.] — I went with Mallet to breakfast with Garrick ; and thence to Drary-lane House, wljero I assisted at a very private rehearsal, in the Green-room, of a new tragedy of Mallet's, called Elvira. As I have not since seen it acted, I shall defer my opinion till then ; but I cannot help mentioning the surprising versatility of Mrs. Pritchard's talents, who re- hearsed, almost at the same time, the part of a furious queen in the Green- room, and that of a coquette on the stage and passed several times from one to the other with the utmost ease and liappiness. Dec. 30.] — Before I close the yeai' I must balance my accounts — not of money, but of time. I may divide my studies into four branches : 1. Books that I have read for themselves, classic writers or capital treatises upon any science ; such books as ought to be perused with attention, and meditated with care. Of these I read the twenty last books of tlie Iliad twice, the three first books of the Odyssey, the life of Homer, and Longinus trcpi Y\povs. 2. Books which I have read, or consulted, to illustrate the former. Such as this year, Blackwall's Inquiry into the Life and writings of Homer, Burke's Sublime and Beautiful, Kurd's Horace, Guichard's M^moires Mih- taires, a great variety of passages of the ancients, occasionally useful ; large extracts from Mezeriac, Bayle,and Potter; and many memoires and ab- stracts from the Academy of Belles Lettres : among these I shall only mention here two long and curious suits of dissertations — the one upon the Temple of Delphi, the Amphictyonic Council, and the Holy Wars, by MM. Hardion and de Valois ; the other upon the Games of the Grecians, by MM. Burette, Gedoyne, and de la Barre. 3. Books of amusement and instruction, pe- rused at my leisiu-e hours, without any reference to a regular plan of study. Of these, perhaps, I read too many, since I went through the Life of Eras- mus, by Le Clerc and Burigny, many extracts from Le Clerc's BibUo- theques, the Ciceronianus, and Colloquies of Erasmus, Barclay's Argenis, Terrasson's Sethos, Voltaire's Siecle de Louis XIV., Madame de Motteville's Memoirs, and Fontenelle's Works. 4. Compositions of my own. I find hardly any, except this Journal, and the Extract of Kurd's Horace, whicli (like a chapter of Montaigae^ contains many things very different from its THE AUTHOR RESUMES HIS STUDIES. title. To these four heads I must this year add a fifth. 5. Those treatises of English liistory which I read ia January, with a view to my now abor- tive scheme of the Life of Sir Walter Raleigh. I ought indeed to hava known my own mind better before I undertook them. Upon the whole, after making proper allowances, I am not dissatisfied with the year. The three weeks which I passed at Beriton, at the end of this and the beginning of the ensuing year, are almost a blank. I seldom went out ; and as the scheme of my travelling was at last entirely settled, the hurry of impatience, the cares of preparations, and the tenderness of irieuds I was going to quit, allowed me hardly any moments for study. CHAP. XVI. MR. GIBBON AT PARTS. The youthful habits of the language and manners of France had left in my mind an ardent desire of revisiting the Continent on a larger and more liberal plan. Ac- cording to the law of custom, and perhaps of reason, foreign travel completes the education of an English gen- tleman ; my father had consented to my wish, but I was detained above four years by my rash engagement in the militia. I eagerly grasped the first moments of freedom : three or four weeks in Hampshire and London were em- ployed in the preparations of my journey, and the fare- well visits of friendship and civility : my last act in town was to applaud Mallet's new tragedy of Elvira ;* a post- * Journal, January 11th, 1763.] — I called upon Dr. Maty in the morn- ing. He told me that the Duke de Nivemois desired to be acquainted with me. It was indeed with that view that I had written to Maty from Beriton to present, in my name, a copy of my book to him. Thence I went to Becket, paid him his biU, (fifty-four pounds,) and gave him back his trans- lation. It must be printed, though very indifferent. My comfort is, that my misfortune is not an uncommon one. We dined and supped at the Mallets. 12th. I went with Maty to visit the Duke in Albemarle-street. He is a little emaciated figure, but appears to possess a good understanding, taste, and knowledge. He offered me very politely letters for Paris. We dined at our lodgings. I went to Covent Garden to see Woodward in Bobadil, and supped with the Mallets at George Scott's. Journal, Jan. 19th, 17G3.]— I waited upon Lady Hervey and the Duke MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. 147 chaise conveyed me to Dover, the packet to Boulogne, and such was my diligence, that I reached Paris on the 28th of January, 1763, only thirty-six days after the disband- de Nivernois, and received my credentials. Lady Hervey's are for M. lo Comte de Caylus, aud Madame Geoffiia. The Duke received me civilly, but (perhaps through Maty's fault) treated me more as a man of letters than as a man of fashion. His letters are entirely in that style; for the Comte de Caylus and MM. de la Bleterie, de Ste. Palaye, Caperonnier, du i Clos, de Foncemague, and d'Alembert. I then undressed for the play My father and I went to the Rose, in the passage of the play-house, where we found Midlet, with about thirty friends. We dined together, and went thence into the pit, where we took om- places in a body, ready to silence all opposition. However, we had no occasion to exert ourselves. Notwith standing the malice of party. Mallet's nation, connexions, and, indeed, im- prudence, we heard nothing but applause. I think it was deserved. The plan was borrowed from De la Motte, but the details and language have great merit. A fine vein of dramatic poetry runs through the piece. The scenes between the father and son awaken almost evei-y sensation of the human breast ; and the counsel would have equally moved, but for the inconvenience unavoidable upon all theatres, that of intrusting fine speeches to indifferent actors. The perplexity of the catastrophe is much, and I believe justly criticised. But another defect made a sti-onger impression upon me. When the poet ventures upon the dreadful situation of a father who condemns his son to death, there is no medium, the father must either be a monster or a hero. The obhgations of justice, of the public good, must be as binding, as apparent, as perhaps those of the first Brutus. The cruel necessity consecrates his actions, and leaves no room for repentance. The thought is shocking if not carried mto action. In the execution of Brntus's sons I am sensible of that fatal necessity. W^itliout such an exam- ple, the unsettled liberty of Rome would have perished the instant after its birth. But Alonzo might have pardoned his son for a rash attempt, the cause of which was a private injury, and whose consequences could never have disturbed an established government. He might have pardoned such a crime in any other subject ; and as the laws could exact only an equal rigour for a son, a vain appetite for glory, and a mad affectation of heroism, could alone have influenced him to exert an unequal and superior severity. 143 MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. ing of the militia. Two or three years were loosely defined for the term of my absence ; and I was left at liberty to spend that time in such places and in such a manner as was most agreeable to my taste and judgment. In this first visit I passed three months and a half, (January 28 — May 9,) and a much longer space might have been agreeably filled, without any intercourse with the natives. At home we are content to move in the daily round of pleasure and business ; and a scene which is always present is supposed to be within our know- ledge, or at least within our power. But in a foreign country, curiosity is our business and our pleasure ; and the traveller, conscious of his ignorance, and covetous of his time, is diligent in the search and the view of every object that can deserve his attention. I devoted many hours in the morning to the circuit of Paris and the neighbourhood, to the visit of churches and palaces con- spicuous by their architecture, to the royal manufactures, collections of books and pictures, and all the various treasures of art, of learning, and of luxury. An English- man may hear without reluctance, that in these curious and costly articles Paris is superior to London ; since the opulence of the French capital arises from the defects of its government and religion. In the absence of Louis XIV. and his successors, the Louvre has been left unfinished : but the millions which have been lavished on the sands of Versailles, and the morass of Marli, could not be supplied by the legal allowance of a British king. The splendour of the French nobles is confined to their town residence ; that of the English is more usefully dis- tributed in their country seats ; and we should be MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. 149 astonished at our own riches, if the labours of architec- ture, the spoils of Italy and Greece, which are now scat- tered from Inverary to Wilton, were accumulated in a few streets between Marylebone and Westminster. All superfluous ornament is rejected by the cold frugality of the Protestants ; but the catholic superstition, which is always the enemy of reason, is often the parent of the arts. The wealthy communities of priests and monks expend their revenues in stately edifices ; and the parish church of St. Sulpice, one of the noblest structures in Paris, was built and adorned by the private industry of a late cure. In this outset, and still more in tke sequel of my tour, my eye was amused ; but the pleasing vision cannot be fixed by the pen : the particular images are darkly seen through the medium of five-and-twenty ■years, and the narrative of my life must not degenerate into a book of travels.* * Journal, February 21, 1763.] — To-day I commenced my tour around Ihe city, to see such places as were worthy of notice. D'Auguy accom- panied me. We went first to the Ubrary of the Abbey of St. Germain des Pre'*, where every body was busy, arranging a cabinet of curiosities ; then to the Hopital des Invalides, where the cupola was shut np on account of repairs going forwai-d. I must therefore defer the visit and description of these two places. From thence we went to see the Ecole Militaire. As this edifice stands beside the Invalides, many persons would there perceive a very easy method of appreciating the different minds of their respective ~ founders. In one, every thing is grand and magnificent ; in the other, every thing is little and mean. Small white apartments, tolerably clean, (which, instead of the 500 gentlemen talked about, contain 258) compose the whole establishment ; for the riding school and stables are nothing. It is true that these buildings are but a scafiTolding, which should be taken away, to erect the real work on their ruins. Indeed, they could not have been built for eternity, since in twenty years' time the greater part of the beams are rotten. We afterwards glanced at the church of St. Sulpicius, whose facade (the pretext and product of so many lotteries) is not yet finished. 150 MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. But the principal end of my journey was to enjoy the society of a pohshed and amiable people, in whose favour I was strongly prejudiced, and to converse with some authors, whose conversation, as I fondly imagined, must be far more pleasing and instructive than their writings. The moment was happily chosen. At the close of a successful war, the British name was respected on the Continent. Claram et venerabile nomen Gentibus. Our opinions, our fashions, even our games, were adopted in France, a ray of national glory illuminated each indi- vidual, and every Englishman was supposed to be born a patriot and a philosopher. For myself, I carried a personal recommendation ; my name and my Essay were already known ; the compliment of having written in the French language entitled me to some returns of civility and gratitude. I was considered as a man of letters who wrote for amusement. Before my departure I had obtained from the Duke de Nivernois, Lady Hervey, the Mallets, Mr. Walpole, &c., many letters of recommenda- tion to their private or literary friends. Of these epistles the reception and success were determined by the cha- racter and situation of the persons by whom and to whom they were addressed ; the seed was sometimes cast on a barren rock, and it sometimes multiplied an hundred fold in the production of new shoots, spreading branches, and exquisite fruit. But upon the whole, I had reason to praise the national urbanity, which from the coirrt has diffused its gentle influence to the shop, the cottages, and MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. 151 the schools. Of the men of genius of the age, Montes- quieu and Fontenelle were no more ; Voltaire resided on his own estate near Geneva ; Rousseau in the preceding year had been driven from his hermitage in Montmorency; and I blush at my having neglected to seek, in this jour- ney, the acquaintance of Buffon. Among the men of letters whom I sav/, D'AIembert and Diderot held the foremost rank in merit, or at least in fame. I shall content myself with enumerating the well-known names of the Comte de Caylus, of the Abbe de la Bleterie, Barthelemy, Reynal, Arnaud, of Messieurs de la Condamine, du Clos, de Sainte Palaye, de Bougainville, Caperonnier, de Guignes, Suard, &c., without attempting to discriminate the shades of their charcters, or the degrees of our connexion. Alone, in a morning visit, I commonly found the artists and authors of Paris less vain, and more reasonable, than in the circles of their equals, with whom they mingle in the houses of the rich. Four days in a week I had a place, without invitation, at the hospitable tables of Mesdames Geoffrin and'du Bocage, of the celebrated Helvetius, and of the Baron d'Olbach. In these symposia the pleasures of the table were improved by lively and liberal conver- sation ; the company was select, though various and voluntary.* * JocRSAL, Febraary 23, 1763 ]— I paid a visit to the Abbe de la Ble- terie, who wished to take me to the Duchess of Aiguillon's ; I wrote to M. de Bougainville, whom I much wished to become acquainted with, and I afterwards went to Baron d'Olbach's the friend of M. Helvetius. This was my first visit, and the first step made into a very good house. Tlie Baron possesses genius and learning, and, above all, he very often gives capital dinners. f ebniary 24.] — The Abh6 Barthelemy is a very amiable man, and has 152 MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. The society of Madame du Bocage was more soft and moderate than that of her rivals, and the evening conver- sations of M. de Foncemagne were supported by the good sense and learning of the principal members of the Academy of Inscriptions. The opera and the Italians I occasionally visited ; but the French theatre, both in tragedy and comedy, was my daily and favourite amuse- nothing of the antiquary about him but a great depth of erndition. I finished the evening by a very agreeable supper at Madame Bontem's with the Marquis de Mirabeau. He is a singular man; he has imagination enough for ten more, and not enough sound sense for himself alone. I asked him several questions about the titles of the French nobility ; but all I could understand was, that nobody has very clear ideas about them. May, 1763.] — Fortified with a double letter of recommendation for the Comte de Caylus, I imagined that I should find, united in him, the man of letters and the man of quality. I saw him three or four times, and found him a simple, ingenuous, good man, who showed me the utmost kind- ness. If I have not profited more by him I attribute it less to his cha- racter than to his mode of life. He rises early, runs thi'ough the aatists, painting.rooms all day long, comes home again at six o'clock in the evening, puts on his dressing-gown, and shuts himself up in his closet. Is this the way to see one's friends. If these recommendations were fruitless, there were others which were as productive in their effects as they were agreeable in themselves. In a capital like Paris, it is just and necessary that you should be distinguished from the crowd by letters of recommendation, but when the ice is once broken, your acquaintance multiply themselves, and your new friends feel pleasure in introducing you to others newer still. A most happy efiect of the light and amiable character of the French, which has established in Paris a suavity and liberty in society, unknown to antiquity and still unknown to other nations. At Loudon one must make one's way into each house, which opens to us with the utmost difficulty. There they think they afford you pleasure iu receiving you ; here they feel pleasure in it themselves. So that I am acquainted with more houses in Paris than in London ; the fact is not probable, but it is true. MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. 153 ment. Two famous actresses then divided the public applause. For my own part, I preferred the consum- mate art of the Clairon, to the intemperate sallies of the Dumesnil, which were extolled by her admirers, as the genuine voice of nature and passion. Fourteen weeks insensibly stole away ; but had I been rich and indepen- dent, I should have prolonged, and perhaps have fixed, my residence at Paris. Between the expensive style of Paris and of Italy it was prudent to interpose some months of tranquil simplicity ; and at the thoughts of Lausanne I again lived in the pleasures and studies of my early youth. Shaping my course through Dijon and Besangon, in the last of which places I was kindly entertained by my cousin Acton, I arrived in the month of May, 1763, on the banks of the Leman Lake. It had been my intention to pass the Alps in the autumn, but such are the simple attractions of the place, that the year had almost expired before my depar- ture from Lausanne in the ensuing spring. An absence of five years had not made much alteration in manners, or even in persons. My old friends, of both sexes, hailed my voluntary return ; the most genuine proof of my attachment. They had been flattered by the present of my book, the produce of their soil ; and the good Pavil- liard shed tears of joy as he embraced a pupil, whose literary merit he might fairly impute to his own labours. To my old list, I added some new acquaintance, and among the strangers I shall distinguish Prince Lewis of Wirtemberg, the brother of the reigning Duke, at whose country-house, near Lausanne, I frequently dined : a wan- dering meteor, and at length a falling star, his light and 154 MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. ambitious spii'it haJ successively dropped from tlie firma- ment of Prussia, of France, and of Austria ; and his faults, which he styled his misfortunes, had driven him into philo- sophic exile in the Pays de Vaud. He could now moralize on the vanity of the world, the equality of man- kind, and the happiness of a private station. His address was affable and polite, and as he had shone in courts and armies, his memory could supply, and his eloquence could adorn, a copious fund of interesting anecdotes. His first enthusiasm was that of charity and agriculture; but the sage gradually lapsed into the saint, and Prince Lewis of Wirtemberg is now buried in a hermitage near Mayence, in the last stage of mystic devotion. By some ecclesiastical quarrel, Voltaire had been provoked to withdraw himself from Lausanne, and retired to his castle at Ferney, where I again visited the poet and the actor without seeking his more intimate acquaintance, to which I might now have pleaded a better title. But the theatre which he had founded, the actors whom he had formed, survived the loss of their master; and recent from Paris, I attended with pleasure at the representation of several tragedies and comedies. I shall not descend to specify particular names and characters ; but I cannot forget a private institution, which will display the inno- cent freedom of Swiss manners. My favourite society had assumed, from the age of its members, the proud denomination of the Spring (la Societe du Printemps). It consisted of fifteen or twenty young unmarried ladies, of genteel, though not of the very first families ; the eldest perhaps about twenty, all agreeable, several hand- some, and two or three of exquisite beauty. At each MB. GIBBON AT PARIS. 155 Other's houses they assembled almost every day, without the control, or even the presence, of a mother or an aunt ; they were trusted to their own prudence, among a crowd of young men of every nation in Europe. They laughed, they sung, they danced, they played at cards, "they acted comedies ; but in the midst of this careless gaiety, they respected themselves, and were respected by the men ; the invisible line between liberty and licentiousness was never transgressed by a gesture, a word, or a look, and their virgin chastity was never sullied by the breath of scandal or suspicion. A singular institution, expressive of the innocent simplicity of Swiss manners. After having tasted the luxury of England and Paris, I could not havo returned with satisfaction to the coarse and homely table of Madame Pavilliard ; nor was her husband offended that I now entered myself as a pensionnaii-e, or boarder, in the elegant house of Mr. De Mesery, which may be entitled to a short remembrance, as it has stood above twenty years, perhaps, without a parallel in Europe. The house in which we lodged was spacious and convenient, in the best street, and commanding, from behind, a noble prospect over the country and the Lake. Our table was served with neatness and plenty; the boarders were select ; we had the liberty of inviting any guests at a stated price: and in the summer the scene was occa- sionally transferred to a pleasant villa, about a league from Lausanne. The characters of master and mistress were happily suited to each other, and to their situation. At the age of seventy-five, Madame de Mesery, who has survived her husband, is still a graceful, and I had almost said, a handsome woman. She was alike quali- 156 MB. GIBBON AT PARIS. fied to preside in her kitchen and her drawing-room, and such was the equal propriety of her conduct, that of two or ^three hundred foreigners, none ever failed in re- spect, none could complain of her neglect, and none could ever boast of her favour. Mesery himself, of the noble family of De Crousaz, was a man of the world, a jovial companion, whose easy manners and natural sallies maintained the cheerfulness of his house. His wit could laugh at his own ignorance ; he disguised, by an air of profusion, a strict attention to his interest ; and in this situation, he appeared like a nobleman who spent his fortune and entertained his friends. In this agreeable society I resided nearly eleven months (May, 1763 — April 1764) ; and in this second visit to Lausanne, among a crowd of my English companions, I knew and esteemed Mr. Holroyd (now Lord Sheffield); and our mutual attach- ment was renewed and fortified in the subsequent stages of our Italian journey. Our lives are in the power of chance, and a slight variation on either side, in time or place, might have deprived me of a friend, whose activity in the ardour of youth was always prompted by a be- nevolent heart, and directed by a strong understanding.* * Journal, September 16, 1763,]— **** and **** have left us. The former is a vile beast, gross, igaorant, and unmannerly. His violence has got him into twenty scrapes hero. However, they would have had him make the journey to "Italy, but ***" refusing to accompany him, they have resolved to send for him back again to England via Paris. **** is a phi- losopher, and very well read, but cold and not at all a man of talent. He is weary of running over the world with young bloclvlieads. After having returned this one back to his family, lie expects to come and seek repose and sPclusion in this country. How right he is ! September 21.] — I have sustained a slight mortification at the society. MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. 157 Frey's departiire had occasioned the ofBce of Btrangers' director to be va- cant. It was intimated that it was intended for me, and my natural frank- ness had not permitted me to conceal that I should be glad to accept it, and that I was in expectation of it. Nevertheless, the majority of votes gave it to M. Roel Hollandois. I saw that they had taken advantage of the very first moment the laws allowed for balloting, and that, if 1 had wished to assemble my friends, I might have gained it ; but I know, at the same time, that I should have had it three months ago without a moment's care about it. My reputation is, with some reason, declining here, and I have enemies. September 25.] — I have passed the afternoon at Madame de ****'b. I had not seen her since the 14th of this month. She has not spoken a single word about me, or appeared to have noticed my absence. This silence has hurt me. I had a very good reputation here for morality, but I see they now begin to confound me with'my feUow-countrymen, and to look npon me as a man who loves wine and dissipation. October 15.] — I have passed the afternoon at Madame de Mesery's. She •wished to introduce me to a young French lady, whom she had invited to supper. This young lady, who calls herself Le Franc, is six feet high. Her stature, countenance, voice, and conversation, all announce the most de- termined grenadier, but a grenadier who has talent, intelligence, and knowledge of the world. So that her stx, name, and condition are all a mystery. She says she is a Parisian lady of quality, who has retired into this country on account of her reUgiou May it not rather be on account of an affair of honour ? Lausanne, December 1763.] — I got up late, and a very friendly visit from M. de Chandieu VUlars* took away what was left of the morning. M. de. Chandieu has served with distinction in France, and retired with the rank of field-marshal. He is a man of great politeness, of a free and lively spirit ; and now, at sixty, he would form the agreeable attraction in a company of young ladies. He is almost the only foreigner who has sue- • ceededin acquiring the ease of French manners, without at the same time faUing into bullying and blustering airs. Lausanne, December, 18, 1763,] — This was Commimion Sunday. Re- ligious ceremonies are well observed in this country. They are rare, and * The father of Madame de Severy, whose family were Mr. Gibbon's most intimate friends, after he had settled at Lausanne in the year 1783, — S. 158 MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. on that very account more respected. Old folks complain, indeed, of the cooling of devotion ; but a day like this still affords an edifying spectacle. There is neither business nor parties ; and they interdict even whist, so necessary to the very existence of a Lausannese. December 31.] — Let us glance back at this year 1763, and see how I have employed this portion of my existence, which is passed away, and will never return. The month of January was spent in the bosom of my family, to whom I was forced to sacrifice all my time, for it was the last part of my stay, and mingled with the cares of departure and the bustle of a journey. In that journey, however, I found means of reading the letters of Busequius, imperial minister at the Port. They are equally interesting and instructive. I remained at Paris from the 28th of January to the 9th of May. During all this time, I did not study at all. Amusements took up a great deal of my time, and the habit of dissipation, which is so easily ac- quired in large cities, did not allow me to profit by what remained. In- deed, if I turned over but few books, the observation of all the curious ob- jects which are presented to view in a large metropolis, and conversation with the greatest men of the age, tiuight me many things that are not to be found in books. The last seven or eight months of the year have been more ti-anquil. When I found myself settled at Lausanne, I undertook a consecutive course of study on the ancient geography of Italy. My enthu- siasm kept up very well for six weeks, tiU the end of the month of June. Then, a journey to Geneva a little interrupted my diligence. Mesery's dwelling presented a thousand attractions, and Saussure's society put the finishing stroke to the loss of my time. I resumed my work at this Jour- nal about the middle of August, and from that time to the beginning of November, I put every instant to profit. I must confess, that during the last two . months my ardour is a littlo slackened. I. In this course of study I read, 1. Nearly two books of Strabo's Geography upon Italy, twice over. 2. Part of the second book of Pliny's Natural Histoiy. 3. The fourth chapter of the second book of Pomponious Mela. 4. The Itineraries of Antoninus and Jerusalem, as far as regards Italy. I read them with the Commentaries of Wcsaelling, &c. I have exti-acted tables of all the groat roads in Italy, every where reducing the Roman into English miles, ac- cording to the calculations of M. d'Anville. 5. The History of the Great Roman Empire, by M. Bergier, 2 vols. 4to. 6. Some select extracts from Cicero, Livy, Velleius Paterculus, Tacitus, and tho tviro Pliniea. The Roma Vetus of Nardini, and several other little treatises on tho same 6ub- MR. GIBBON AT PARIS. 159 ject, vvliich compose almost all the fourth volume of Graevius' Tresor des Antiquites Romaiiies. 7. The Italia Antiqua of Cluverius, 2 vols, folio. 8. The Iter (or Journey) of Claudius Rutilius Numatianus among the Gauls. 9. Virgil's Catalogues. 10. That of Silius ItaUcus. 11. Horace's Journey to BrUndusium. N. B. These last three I read twice over> 12. D'An\'ille'a Treatise on the Itinerary Measures, and some Memoires of the Acad6mie des Belles Lettres. II. I had to wait for Nardini from the library of Geneva ; I wished to fill up this spare moment in reading Ju- venal, a poet whom I as yet knew only by reputation. I read hiui twice over carefully, and with pleasure. III. During the year, I have read some periodicals ; among others, the Journal Etranger, from its commence- ment, a volume of Bayle's Nouvelles, and the first 35 volumes of the Bibliotheque raisonnee. IV. I have written a great deal of my Recueil Geogai'phique d'ltalie, which is already very ample, and tolerably curious. V. I ought not to forget this very Journal, which has grown into a book; 2141 well filled pages, in four months and a half, are a considerable object. For, without reckoning a great number of detached observations, there are in it several learned and orderly dissertations. That upon Hannibal's expedition includes ten pages, and that on the civil war twelve. But these pieces are too long, and the Journal itself stands in need of a reform, which should retrench from it a number of pieces that are foreign to its real plan. After having reflected some time upon the subject, here are some rules that *I have made on the objects that are proper for it. I. All my domestic and private life, my amusements, connexions, and even my rambles ; as well as all the reflections that sti-ike me on subjects that are merely personal. I allow that all this is interesting only to myself, but then it is only for myself that I write this Journal. II. All that I learn by observation and conversation. With respect to this, I shall only put down what I have from persons, who are at once both perfectly well informed and honest, when it regards facts, or from that small number who merit the title of great men, when it regards sentiments and opinions. III. I shall carefully put in it all that may be termed the material part of my ctadies ; how many hours I have worked, how many pages I have vi^ritten or read, with a short notice of their contents. IV. I should be sorry to read without reflecting on my readings, giving correct judgments upon my authors, and carefully culling their ideas and expressions. But all reading does not alii