world are most rapid, various, and instructive; and the Greek or
Roman historians are checked by the hostile narratives of the
barbarians of the East and the West. [Note: I have followed the
judicious precept of the Abbe de Mably, (Maniere d'ecrire l'Hist.,
p. 110,) who advises the historian not to dwell too minutely on the
decay of the eastern empire; but to consider the barbarian
conquerors as a more worthy subject of his narrative. "Fas est et
ab hoste doceri."]
It was not till after many designs, and many trials, that I
preferred, as I still prefer, the method of grouping my picture by
nations; and the seeming neglect of chronological order is surely
compensated by the superior merits of interest and perspicuity. The
style of the first volume is, in my opinion, somewhat crude and
elaborate; in the second and third it is ripened into ease,
correctness, and numbers; but in the three last I may have been
seduced by the facility of my pen, and the constant habit of
speaking one language and writing another may have infused some
mixture of Gallic idioms. Happily for my eyes, I have always closed
my studies with the day, and commonly with the morning; and a long,
but temperate, labour has been accomplished, without fatiguing
either the mind or body; but when I computed the remainder of my
time and my task, it was apparent that, according to the season of
publication, the delay of a month would be productive of that of a
year. I was now straining for the goal, and in the last winter many
evenings were borrowed from the social pleasures of Lausanne. I
could now wish that a pause, an interval, had been allowed for a
serious revisal.
I have presumed to mark the moment of conception: I shall now
commemorate the hour of my final deliverance. It was on the day, or
rather night, of the 27th of June, 1787, between the hours of eleven
and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page, in a
summer house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several
turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a
prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was
temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was
reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not
dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom,
and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon
humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind, by the idea
that I had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable
companion, and that whatsoever might be the future fate of my
History, the life of the historian must be short and precarious. I
will add two facts, which have seldom occurred in the composition of
six, or at least of five quartos. 1. My first rough manuscript,
without any intermediate copy, has been sent to the press. 2. Not a
sheet has been seen by any human eyes, excepting those of the author
and the printer: the faults and the merits are exclusively my own.
I cannot help recollecting a much more extraordinary fact, which is
affirmed of himself by Retif de la Bretorme, a voluminous and
original writer of French novels. He laboured, and may still
labour, in the humble office of corrector to a printing-house; but
this office enabled him to transport an entire volume from his mind
to the press; and his work was given to the public without ever
having been written with a pen.
After a quiet residence of four years, during which I had never
moved ten miles from Lausanne, it was not without some reluctance
and terror, that I undertook, in a journey of two hundred leagues,
to cross the mountains and the sea. Yet this formidable adventure
was achieved without danger or fatigue; and at the end of a
fortnight I found myself in Lord Sheffield's house and library,
safe, happy, and at home. The character of my friend (Mr. Holroyd)
had recommended him to a seat in parliament for Coventry, the
command of a regiment of light dragoons, and an Irish peerage. The
sense and spirit of his political writings have decided the public
opinion on the great questions of our commercial interest with
America and Ireland.
The sale of his Observations on the American States was diffusive,
their effect beneficial; the Navigation Act, the palladium of
Britain, was defended, and perhaps saved, by his pen; and he proves,
by the weight of fact and argument, that the mother-country may
survive and flourish after the loss of America. My friend has never
cultivated the arts of composition; but his materials are copious
and correct, and he leaves on his paper the clear impression of an
active and vigorous mind. His "Observations on the Trade,
Manufactures, and present State of Ireland," were intended to guide
the industry, to correct the prejudices, and to assuage the passions
of a country which seemed to forget that she could be free and
prosperous only by a friendly connection with Great Britain. The
concluding observations are written with so much ease and spirit,
that they may be read by those who are the least interested in the
subject.
He fell (in 1784) with the unpopular coalition; but his merit has
been acknowledged at the last general election, 1790, by the
honourable invitation and free choice of the city of Bristol.
During the whole time of my residence in England I was entertained
at Sheffield-Place and in Downing-Street by his hospitable kindness;
and the most pleasant period was that which I passed in the domestic
society of the family. In the larger circle of the metropolis I
observed the country and the inhabitants with the knowledge, and
without the prejudices, of an Englishman; but I rejoiced in the
apparent increase of wealth and prosperity, which might be fairly
divided between the spirit of the nation and the wisdom of the
minister. All party-resentment was now lost in oblivion: since I
was no man's rival, no man was my enemy. I felt the dignity of
independence, and as I asked no more, I was satisfied with the
general civilities of the world. The house in London which I
frequented with most pleasure and assiduity was that of Lord North.
After the loss of power and of sight, he was still happy in himself
and his friends; and my public tribute of gratitude and esteem could
no longer be suspected of any interested motive. Before my
departure from England, I was present at the august spectacle of Mr.
Hastings's trial in Westminster Hall. It is not my province to
absolve or condemn the Governor of India; but Mr. Sheridan's
eloquence demanded my applause; nor could I hear without emotion the
personal compliment which he paid me in the presence of the British
nation.
From this display of genius, which blazed four successive days, I
shall stoop to a very mechanical circumstance. As I was waiting in
the managers' box, I had the curiosity to inquire of the short-hand
writer, how many words a ready and rapid orator might pronounce in
an hour? From 7000 to 7500 was his answer. The medium of 7200 will
afford 120 words in a minute, and two words in each second. But
this computation will only apply to the English language.
As the publication of my three last volumes was the principal
object, so it was the first care of my English journey. The
previous arrangements with the bookseller and the printer were
settled in my passage through London, and the proofs, which I
returned more correct, were transmitted every post from the press to
Sheffield-Place. The length of the operation, and the leisure of
the country, allowed some time to review my manuscript. Several
rare and useful books, the Assises de Jerusalem, Ramusius de Bello
Constantinopolitano, the Greek Acts of the Synod of Florence, the
Statuta Urbis Romae, &c. were procured, and introduced in their
proper places the supplements which they afforded. The impression
of the fourth volume had consumed three months. Our common interest
required that we should move with a quicker pace; and Mr. Strahan
fulfilled his engagement, which few printers could sustain, of
delivering every week three thousand copies of nine sheets. The day
of publication was, however, delayed, that it might coincide with
the fifty-first anniversary of my own birthday; the double festival
was celebrated by a cheerful literary dinner at Mr. Cadell's house;
and I seemed to blush while they read an elegant compliment from Mr.
Hayley, whose poetical talents had more than once been employed in
the praise of his friend. Before Mr. Hayley inscribed with my name
his epistles on history, I was not acquainted with that amiable man
and elegant poet. He afterwards thanked me in verse for my second
and third volumes; and in the summer of 1781, the Roman Eagle, (a
proud title) accepted the invitation of the English Sparrow, who
chirped in the groves of Eartham, near Chichester. As most of the
former purchasers were naturally desirous of completing their sets,
the sale of the quarto edition was quick and easy; and an octavo
size was printed, to satisfy at a cheaper rate the public demand.
The conclusion of my work was generally read, and variously judged.
The style has been exposed to much academical criticism; a religious
clamour was revived, and the reproach of indecency has been loudly
echoed by the rigid censors of morals. I never could understand the
clamour that has been raised against the indecency of my three last
volumes. 1. An equal degree of freedom in the former part,
especially in the first volume, had passed without reproach. 2. I
am justified in painting the manners of the times; the vices of
Theodora form an essential feature in the reign and character of
Justinian. 3. My English text is chaste, and all licentious
passages are left in the obscurity of a learned language. Le Latin
dans ses mots brave l'honnetete, says the correct Boileau, in a
country and idiom more scrupulous than our own. Yet, upon the
whole, the History of the Decline and Fall seems to have struck
root, both at home and abroad, and may, perhaps, a hundred years
hence still continue to be abused. I am less flattered by Mr.
Porson's high encomium on the style and spirit of my history, than I
am satisfied with his honourable testimony to my attention,
diligence, and accuracy; those humble virtues, which religious zeal
had most audaciously denied. The sweetness of his praise is
tempered by a reasonable mixture of acid. As the book may not be
common in England, I shall transcribe my own character from the
Bibliotheca Historica of Meuselius, a learned and laborious German.
"Summis aevi nostri historicis Gibbonus sine dubio adnumerandus est.
Inter capitolii ruinas stans primum hujus operis scribendi concilium
cepit. Florentissimos vitae annos colligendo et laborando eidem
impendit. Enatum inde monumentum aere perennius, licet passim
appareant sinistre dicta, minus perfecta, veritati non satis
consentanea. Videmus quidem ubique fere studium scrutandi
veritatemque scribendi maximum: tamen sine Tillemontio duce ubi
scilicet hujus historia finitur saepius noster titubat atque
hallucinatur. Quod vel maxime fit ubi de rebus Ecclesiasticis vel
de juris prudentia Romana (tom. iv.) tradit, et in aliis locis.
Attamen naevi hujus generis haud impediunt quo minus operis summam
et {Greek} praedare dispositam, delectum rerum sapientissimum,
argutum quoque interdum, dictionemque seu stylum historico aeque ac
philosopho dignissimum, et vix a quoque alio Anglo, Humio ac
Robertsono haud exceptis (praereptum?) vehementer laudemus, atque
saeculo nostro de hujusmodi historia gratulemur..... Gibbonus
adversaries cum in tum extra patriam nactus est, quia propogationem
religionis Christianae, non, tit vulgo, fieri solet, cut more
Theologorum, sed ut Historicum et Philosophum decet, exposuerat."
The French, Italian, and German translations have been executed with
various success; but, instead of patronizing, I should willingly
suppress such imperfect copies, which injure the character, while
they propagate the name of the author. The first volume had been
feebly, though faithfully, translated into French by M. Le Clerc de
Septchenes, a young gentleman of a studious character and liberal
fortune. After his decease the work was continued by two
manufacturers of Paris, M. M. Desmuniers and Cantwell: but the
former is now an active member in the national assembly, and the
undertaking languishes in the hands of his associate. The superior
merit of the interpreter, or his language, inclines me to prefer the
Italian version: but I wish that it were in my power to read the
German, which is praised by the best judges. The Irish pirates are
at once my friends and my enemies, But I cannot be displeased with
the too numerous and correct impressions which have been published
for the use of the continent at Basil in Switzerland. [Note: Of
their 14 8vo. vols. the two last include the whole body of the
notes. The public importunity had forced me to remove them from the
end of the volume to the bottom of the page; but I have often
repented of my compliance.] The conquests of our language and
literature are not confined to Europe alone, and a writer who
succeeds in London, is speedily read on the banks of the Delaware
and the Ganges.
In the preface of the fourth volume, while I gloried in the name of
an Englishman, I announced my approaching return to the
neighbourhood of the Lake of Lausanne. This last trial confirmed my
assurance that I had wisely chosen for my own happiness; nor did I
once, in a year's visit, entertain a wish of settling in my native
country. Britain is the free and fortunate island; but where is the
spot in which I could unite the comforts and beauties of my
establishment at Lausanne? The tumult of London astonished my eyes
and ears; the amusements of public places were no longer adequate to
the trouble; the clubs and assemblies were filled with new faces and
young men; and our best society, our long and late dinners, would
soon have been prejudicial to my health. Without any share in the
political wheel, I must be idle and insignificant: yet the most
splendid temptations would not have enticed me to engage a second
time in the servitude of Parliament or office. At Tunbridge, some
weeks after the publication of my History, I reluctantly quitted
Lord and Lady Sheffield, and, with a young Swiss friend, M. Wilhelm.
de Severy, whom I had introduced to the English world, I pursued the
road of Dover and Lausanne. My habitation was embellished in my
absence, and the last division of books, which followed my steps,
increased my chosen library to the number of between six and seven
thousand volumes. My seraglio was ample, my choice was free, my
appetite was keen. After a full repast on Homer and Aristophanes, I
involved myself in the philosophic maze of the writings of Plato, of
which the dramatic is, perhaps, more interesting than the
argumentative part: but I stepped aside into every path of inquiry
which reading or reflection accidentally opened.
Alas! the joy of my return, and my studious ardour, were soon damped
by the melancholy state of my friend Mr. Deyverdun. His health and
spirits had long suffered a gradual decline, a succession of
apoplectic fits announced his dissolution; and before he expired,
those who loved him could not wish for the continuance of his life.
The voice of reason might congratulate his deliverance, but the
feelings of nature and friendship could be subdued only by time: his
amiable character was still alive in my remembrance; each room, each
walk, was imprinted with our common footsteps; and I should blush at
my own philosophy, if a long interval of study had not preceded and
followed the death of my friend. By his last will he left to me the
option of purchasing his house and garden, or of possessing them
during my life, on the payment either of a stipulated price, or of
an easy retribution to his kinsman and heir. I should probably have
been tempted by the daemon of property, if some legal difficulties
had not been started against my title; a contest would have been
vexatious, doubtful, and invidious; and the heir most gratefully
subscribed an agreement, which rendered my life-possession more
perfect, and his future condition more advantageous. Yet I had
often revolved the judicious lines in which Pope answers the
objections of his longsighted friend:
Pity to build without or child or wife;
Why, you'll enjoy it only all your life
Well, if the use be mine, does it concern one,
Whether the name belong to Pope or Vernon?
The certainty of my tenure has allowed me to lay out a considerable
sum in improvements and alterations: they have been executed with
skill and taste; and few men of letters, perhaps, in Europe, are so
desirably lodged as myself. But I feel, and with the decline of
years I shall more painfully feel, that I am alone in Paradise.
Among the circle of my acquaintance at Lausanne, I have gradually
acquired the solid and tender friendship of a respectable family,
the family of de Severy: the four persons of whom it is composed are
all endowed with the virtues best adapted to their age and
situation; and I am encouraged to love the parents as a brother, and
the children as a father. Every day we seek and find the
opportunities of meeting: yet even this valuable connection cannot
supply the loss of domestic society.
Within the last two or three years our tranquillity has been clouded
by the disorders of France: many families at Lausanne were alarmed
and affected by the terrors of an impending bankruptcy; but the
revolution, or rather the dissolution of the kingdom has been heard
and felt in the adjacent lands.
I beg leave to subscribe my assent to Mr. Burke's creed on the
revolution of France. I admire his eloquence, I approve his
politics, I adore his chivalry, and I can almost excuse his
reverence for church establishments. I have sometimes thought of
writing a dialogue of the dead, in which Lucian, Erasmus, and
Voltaire should mutually acknowledge the danger of exposing an old
superstition to the contempt of the blind and fanatic multitude.
A swarm of emigrants of both sexes, who escaped from the public
ruin, has been attracted by the vicinity, the manners, and the
language of Lausanne; and our narrow habitations in town and country
are now occupied by the first names and titles of the departed
monarchy. These noble fugitives are entitled to our pity; they may
claim our esteem, but they cannot, in their present state of mind
and fortune, much contribute to our amusement. Instead of looking
down as calm and idle spectators on the theatre of Europe, our
domestic harmony is somewhat embittered by the infusion of party
spirit: our ladies and gentlemen assume the character of self-taught
politicians; and the sober dictates of wisdom and experience are
silenced by the clamour of the triumphant democrates. The fanatic
missionaries of sedition have scattered the seeds of discontent in
our cities and villages, which had flourished above two hundred and
fifty years without fearing the approach of war, or feeling the
weight of government. Many individuals, and some communities,
appear to be infested with the Gallic phrenzy, the wild theories of
equal and boundless freedom; but I trust that the body of the people
will be faithful to their sovereign and to themselves; and I am
satisfied that the failure or success of a revolt would equally
terminate in the ruin of the country. While the aristocracy of
Berne protects the happiness, it is superfluous to enquire whether
it be founded in the rights of man: the oeconomy of the state is
liberally supplied without the aid of taxes; and the magistrates
must reign with prudence and equity, since they are unarmed in the
midst of an armed nation.
The revenue of Berne, excepting some small duties, is derived from
church lands, tithes, feudal rights, and interest of money. The
republic has nearly 500,000 pounds sterling in the English funds,
and the amount of their treasure is unknown to the citizens
themselves. For myself (may the omen be averted) I can only
declare, that the first stroke of a rebel drum would be the signal
of my immediate departure.
When I contemplate the common lot of mortality, I must acknowledge
that I have drawn a high prize in the lottery of life. The far
greater part of the globe is overspread with barbarism or slavery:
in the civilized world, the most numerous class is condemned to
ignorance and poverty; and the double fortune of my birth in a free
and enlightened country, in an honourable and wealthy family, is the
lucky chance of an unit against millions. The general probability
is about three to one, that a new-born infant will not live to
complete his fiftieth year. [Note: Buffon, Supplement a l'Hist.
naturelle, vii. p, 158-164, of a given number of new-born infants,
one half, by the fault of nature or man, is extinguished before the
age of puberty and reason,--a melancholy calculation!] I have now
passed that age, and may fairly estimate the present value of my
existence in the three-fold division of mind, body, and estate.
1. The first and indispensable requisite of happiness is a clear
conscience, unsullied by the reproach or remembrance of an unworthy
action.
--Hic murus aheneus esto,
Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpa.
I am endowed with a cheerful temper, a moderate sensibility, and a
natural disposition to repose rather than to activity: some
mischievous appetites and habits have perhaps been corrected by
philosophy or time. The love of study, a passion which derives
fresh vigour from enjoyment, supplies each day, each hour, with a
perpetual source of independent and rational pleasure; and I am not
sensible of any decay of the mental faculties. The original soil
has been highly improved by cultivation; but it may be questioned,
whether some flowers of fancy, some grateful errors, have not been
eradicated with the weeds of prejudice. 2. Since I have escaped
from the long perils of my childhood, the serious advice of a
physician has seldom been requisite. "The madness of superfluous
health" I have never known; but my tender constitution has been
fortified by time, and the inestimable gift of the sound and
peaceful slumbers of infancy may be imputed both to the mind and
body. 3. I have already described the merits of my society and
situation; but these enjoyments would be tasteless or bitter if
their possession were not assured by an annual and adequate supply.
According to the scale of Switzerland, I am a rich man; and I am
indeed rich, since my income is superior to my expence, and my
expence is equal to my wishes. My friend Lord Sheffield has kindly
relieved me from the cares to which my taste and temper are most
adverse: shall I add, that since the failure of my first wishes, I
have never entertained any serious thoughts of a matrimonial
connection?