I must begin by the most disagreeable news I have to tell you. All
our tickets have come up blanks.[16] All our visionary plans of
grandeur are disappointed, the dream of those who have had the ten
thousand pounds will last a little, but perhaps, not much longer.
I am settled at last in a very good lodging; I say at last because I
lived a day and a half at Mrs. Porten's in the middle of hurry and
noise and meazels. My aunt desires her compliments to you and Mrs.
Gibbon. We eat the levret together. Pray did you not send her a hare
some time ago? I know not what happened, but she never received it.
I saw at her house Dr. Maty's son,[17] a little odd cur, and by an
unexampled generosity I tipped the boy with a crown and the father
with a coal of fire. Last night I was at the King's Scholars play,
and, proper allowances being made, was very well entertained. All
spoke justly enough and some (one or two) promised a good deal. Harry
Courtenay was one of these, but he disappointed me before the end of
the play. He came on with ease and entered well into his character
(an old man in the Phormio), got safe over the dreadful first scene.
From thence he sunk gradually tho' encouraged by repeated claps,
dragged himself through the last scenes in the most dead and lifeless
manner. My expectations were deceived more than they ever were in my
whole life. I am just come from Madame Cilesia's.[18] She received me
in a dirty white linnen gown, no rufles; in a word, _a negligé qui
n'alloit pas le mieux du monde, à sa Majesté Corse_. She received
me, however, like an old fellow-sufferer. Not that we talked at all
of the M.....s, tho' on the brink of it several times, but neither
of us broke the ice. I do not think her pretty, something sweet
enough in her face, _mais enfin voilà tout_. I am to dine there
to-morrow. To-day I dine in state at home, and after dinner shall go
to Cleone,[19] though generally disliked.
I lodge in New Bond Street at a linnen draper's, a Mr. Steward, and
I have a very good first floor, dining-room, bed-chamber and light
closet with many conveniences for a guinea and half a week. I believe
I shall keep to it. Lee is very serviceable to me, he has got me a
very handsome chair for twenty-seven shillings.
I beg you would present my best compliments and true respects to Mrs.
Gibbon.
I am, Dear Sir,
With the greatest regard,
Your most _faithful_, humble servant and son,
E. GIBBON, JUNIOR.
P.S.--I have not yet been able to do your commissions.
[16] The lottery began to be drawn November 14, 1758; the last
ticket was drawn December 12, when "No. 72,570 in the present
lottery was drawn a prize of £10,000."
[17] Matthew Maty, born near Utrecht in 1718, settled in
England as a physician in 1741; in 1756 he was appointed an
under-librarian at the British Museum, and in 1772 succeeded
Gowin Knight as chief librarian. His _Journal Britannique_
(1750-55), published in French at the Hague, contains a
bi-monthly review of English literature. He died in 1776. If the
son, whom Gibbon "tipped," resembled the father, this passage
may confirm Dr. Johnson's description of Maty as a "little black
dog." For Gibbon's relations with Maty, see note to Letter 15.
[18] Dorothea Mallet, Madame Celesia (1738-1790), a poet and
dramatist, eldest daughter, by his first wife, of David Mallet.
She married Pietro Paolo Celesia, a Genoese gentleman, who was
ambassador to this country from 1755 to 1759, and was afterwards
ambassador to Spain. Madame Celesia's drama of _Almida_, an
adaptation of Voltaire's _Tancrède_, was brought out at Drury
Lane in 1771, and published in the same year.
[19] Dodsley's tragedy of _Cleone_ was then being played at
Covent Garden.
14.
_To his Stepmother._
London, December, 1758.