companion with whom I expected to pass the remainder of my life: in
a few days Caplin departs for England. He had long complained of
his health, and though he made some progress in French, he could
not reconcile himself to the people and country, and his personal
attachment to me was less forcible than gratitude perhaps would have
required. As he has saved some money in my service he proposes to set
up in London in the Upholstery business, and will be a very useful
correspondent, as he has been a very able assistant here in my first
arrangements. I shall advise him to go down to Sheffield, and you
may question him about a thousand little particulars. It is an heavy
loss, yet I have the good luck to procure in his place a Valet de
Chambre, a man of substance and reputation of this Country, but who
has lived some years at Paris: he has passed three months in the
school of Caplin, and as I am assured of his honesty and diligence I
have very good hopes of his address and intelligence.
*You hint in some of your letters, or rather postscripts, that you
consider me as having renounced England, and having fixed myself
for the rest of my life in Switzerland, and that you suspect the
sincerity of any vague or insidious schemes of purchase or return.
To remove, as far as I can, your doubts and suspicions, I will
tell you, on that interesting subject, fairly and simply as much
as I know of my own intentions. There is little appearance that I
shall be suddenly recalled by offer of a place or pension. I have
no claim to the friendship of your young Minister, and should he
propose a Commissioner of the Customs, or Secretary at Paris, the
former objects of my low ambition, Adam in Paradise would refuse them
with contempt. _Here_ therefore I shall certainly live till I have
finished the remainder of my history; an arduous work, which does
not proceed so fast as I expected amidst the avocations of Society,
and miscellaneous Study. As soon as it is compleated, most probably
in three or _four_ years, I shall infallibly return to England,
about the month of May or June; and the necessary labour of printing
with care two or three quarto Volumes, will detain me till their
publication, in the ensuing Spring. Lord Sheffield and yourself will
be the loadstone that most forcibly attracts me; and as I shall be a
vagabond on the face of the earth, I shall be the better qualified to
domesticate myself with you, both in town and country. Here, then,
at no very extravagant distance, we have the certainty (if we live)
of spending a year together, in the peace and freedom of a friendly
interest; and a year is no very contemptible portion of this mortal
existence.
[Sidenote: HIS INVITATION TO THE SHEFFIELDS.]
Beyond that period (I mean of the year, not of the existence, though
it be true enough of that likewise) all is dark, but not gloomy.
Whether, after the final completion of my history, I shall return
to Lausanne, or settle in England, must depend on a thousand events
which lye beyond the reach of human foresight, the state of public
and private affairs, my own health, the health and life of Deyverdun,
the fate of two elderly Ladies, the various changes which may have
rendered Lausanne more dear, or less agreeable, to me than at
present. But without losing ourselves in this distant futurity, which
perhaps we may never see, and without giving any positive answer to
Maria's parting question, whether I should be buried in England or
Switzerland, let me seriously and earnestly ask you, whether you do
not mean to visit me next summer? The defeat at Coventry would, I
should think, facilitate the project; since the Baron is no longer
detained the whole winter from his domestic affairs, nor is there any
attendance on the house that keeps him till Midsummer in dust and
dispute. I can send you a pleasant route, through Normandy, Paris,
and Lyons, a visit to the Glaciers, and your return down the Rhine,
which would be commodiously executed in three or four months, at
no very extravagant expence, and would be productive of health and
spirits to you, of entertainment to you both, and of instruction to
the Baronessa. Without the smallest inconvenience to myself, I am
able to lodge Yourselves and family, by arranging you in the winter
apartment, which in the summer season is not of any use to us. I
think you will be satisfied with your habitation, and already see you
in your dressing-room; a small but pleasant room, with a delightful
prospect to the West and South. If poor Aunt Kitty (you oblige me
beyond expression by your tender care of that excellent Woman) if she
were only ten years younger, I would desire you to take her with you,
but I much fear we shall never meet again.
You will not complain of the brevity of this Epistle; I expect,
in return, a full and fair account of yourself, your thoughts and
actions, soul and body, present and future, in the safe, though
unreserved, confidence of friendship. The Baron in two words hinted
but an indifferent account of your health; you are a fine machine;
but as he was absent in Ireland, I hope I understand the cause and
the remedy. Next to yourself, I want to hear of the two Baronesses.
You must give me a faithful picture (and though a mother you can
give it) of their present external and internal forms; for a year
has now elapsed, and in _their_ lives a year is an age.* Has the
gentle Louisa (though you had discovered some marks of fire) expanded
as much as you could expect in knowledge and understanding? I see
Maria an accomplished and elegant young Woman, and only wish to know
whether you have smoothed away some of the asperities of that fine
diamond. Adieu.
Remember me to Miss Firth: My Wedgewood's China. But Caplin will put
everything in motion.
Ever yours,
E. GIBBON.
I hear from Mrs. Frazer but an indifferent account of Mrs. Holroyd
of Bath. I want to have a _cool_ and faithful state of Mrs. G., her
health and spirits: our correspondence is languid, but indeed it is
rather her fault than mine.
[97] Jacques Necker (1734-1804), appointed Director-General of
Finance in 1777, published, in 1781, his _Compte Rendu_. In the
same year he was compelled to resign his office. In 1784 he
published his _Administration des Finances_. He was recalled to
office as Director of Finances in August, 1788, was dismissed
July 11, 1789, recalled July 16 in the same year, and finally
retired in September, 1790. "M. Necker est parti. Il a eu une
si belle peur de la menace d'être pendu, qu'il n'a pu résister
à la tendresse de sa vertueuse épouse qui le pressoit d'aller
aux eaux." Madame Elisabeth à Madame de Bombelles, Sept. 6,
1790 (Feuillet de Conches, vol. i. p. 348). Necker's work, _Sur
l'Administration de M. Necker, par lui-même_, was published in
1791. His daughter mentioned here was afterwards Madame de Staël.
498.
_To his Stepmother._
Lausanne, October 27th, 1784.
MY DEAR MADAM,
If ever the excuse of procrastination be allowable it is when we
ourselves are expecting a letter to which we are entitled in the due
course of correspondence. Not that among friends the cold ideas of
form and duty of debt and payment call find any admittance; but that
every post that approaches and flyes away, seems to mark and postpone
the natural opportunity of writing by alternately raising and
disappointing our hopes. I am not indeed either surprized or angry
at your long silence; the correspondence of distant friends will
inevitably languish without any diminution of their mutual affection:
their sentiments are still the same but their ideas become different;
they no longer think or read or converse or act in the same sphere,
and the object of their intercourse will be at last reduced to the
reciprocal desire of being informed of each other's health and
happiness. Could we persuade ourselves to convey that information
every week or month in a billet of four lines, each friend would be
satisfied: but the distance seems to require a longer Epistle, and
the obligation of writing a great deal prevents us from writing at
all, and leaves our friend in the doubt (which I now most anxiously
feel) whether that silence be not occasioned by the want of health or
spirits.
It is more particularly in a situation like ours that we are not
prompted to write by the agitation and variety of the scenes which
surround us. Nothing can be more uniform and tranquil than your
Bath Life, except it be that which I lead at Lausanne. A regular
alternative of Study and society carries away the hours and days
in a smooth and pleasant Revolution, and I have scarcely commenced
a month before I am astonished to find myself at the end of it--a
sure indication of a quiet and domestic state of happiness. I am
well satisfied with my union with a known and tryed friend, though
(such are the infirmities of human nature) all our moments cannot
partake of the Honey-moon. Among the people of the Country I have
found some, I have formed many more Connections; their manners, their
conversation, their style of living are perfectly adapted to my
taste, and the sameness of the company is relieved in the Summer by a
concourse of strangers whom health or curiosity or fashion invite to
consult Tissot or to visit the Alps.
[Sidenote: A TEMPERATE DIET AND EASY MIND.]
As a kind of public character, a live Author, I am a little too
much exposed to visits and compliments, but I was much delighted
with the unexpected meeting of the Neckers. Tired of greatness and
ambition (a polite phrase for a disgraced minister), they purchased
an estate in Switzerland, and while the Castle was repairing they
passed the summer in a country-house near Lausanne. Their society
might diversify my life with occasional excursions; but, alas! _her_
health is very much affected, and I think it extremely doubtful
whether she will be able to revisit this country again. Of myself
I can give you a much more pleasing account, nor do I remember a
year in which I have enjoyed a more perfect state of health; the
air though sharp is pure; it may be dangerous for weak lungs, but
is excellently suited to a gouty constitution, and during the whole
twelfth month I have never once been attacked by my old Enemy. Of
Dr. Cadogan's three rules, I can observe two, a temperate diet and a
easy mind. I am not agitated by the hopes and fears, and _regrets_
of my London life, and whatever cares still pursue and overtake me
are blown over by an English wind. I am afraid you sometimes sigh
over me as an Exile. If I were fixed as a foreign Minister at Naples,
or Petersburgh, you would be reconciled to my situation, yet such a
splendid situation would be corroded by many a secret anxiety, and
content is surely preferable to greatness. Adieu, My Dear Madam; give
me a _satisfactory line_, and ever believe me,
Yours,
E. G.
499.
_To Lord Sheffield._
Lausanne, March 13th, 1785.
*My long silence (and it has been long) must not, on this occasion,
be imputed to lazyness, though that little Devil may likewise have
been busy. But you cannot forget how many weeks I remained in
suspence, expecting every post the final sentence, and not knowing
what to say in that passive uncertainty. It is now something more
than a fortnight since your last letter, and that of Gosling
informed me of the event. I have intended every day to write, and
every day I have started back with reluctance and disgust, from the
consideration of the wretched subject. Lenborough irrecoverably gone,
for three-fourths of its real, at least of its ancient, Value; my
seat in Parliament (for the subject now presses home upon me) sunk
without the smallest equivalent in the abyss of your cursed politics,
and a balance neatly cyphered and summed by Gosling, which shews me a
very shallow purse, in which others have a clearer right to dip than
myself.
March 21st.
Another week has now elapsed, and though nothing is changed in this
too faithful state of my affairs, I feel myself able to encounter
them with more spirit and resolution; to look on the future, rather
than the past; on the fair, rather than on the foul side of the
prospect. I shall speak in the confidence of friendship, and while
you listen to the more doleful tale of my wants and wishes, You will
have the satisfaction of hearing some circumstances in my present
situation of a less unpleasing nature.
1. In the first place, I most heartily rejoyce in the sale, however
unfavourable, of the Bucks Estate. Considering the dullness of the
times, and the high interest of money, it is not a little to obtain
even a tolerable price, and I am sensible how much your patience and
industry have been exercised to extort the payment* from a knavish
or obstinate purchaser. Without supposing a shilling of balance in
Gosling's hands, my circumstances are improved by the sale to the
annual amount of £150; of £50 which I was obliged to add for the
interest of the mortgage, of £100 which I received from my French
annuity.
*2. Your resistance to my Swiss expedition was more friendly than
wise. Had I yielded, after eighteen months of suspense and anxiety,
I should now, a still poorer man, be driven to embrace the same
resource, which has succeeded according to, or even beyond, my
most sanguine expectation. I do not pretend to have discovered
the terrestrial paradise, which has not been known in this World
since the fall of Adam; but I can truly declare, (now the charms of
novelty are long since faded,) that I have found the plan of life
the best adapted to my temper and my situation. I am now writing
to you in a room as good as that in Bentinck Street, with three
large windows of plate glass which command the country, the lake,
and the mountains, and the opening prospect of the spring. The
aforesaid room is furnished without magnificence, but with every
conveniency for warmth, ease, and study, and the walls are already
covered with more than two thousand volumes, the choice of a chosen
library. I have health, friends, an amusing society, and perfect
freedom. (A Commissioner of the Excise! the idea makes me sick).*
Even in Trifles, though it is not a Trifle, I have been singularly
lucky, and you will conceive an high opinion of Blondel, my new
Valet de Chambre, when I assure you that, except in the knowledge
of books and the Upholstery business, I no longer regret Caplen.
He probably related all the minute circumstances of my state, and
I find, that without any prejudice for the Country and people, he
has not represented them in an unfavourable light. *If you ask me
what I have saved by my retreat to Lausanne, I will fairly tell you
(in the two great articles of a Carriage and a house in town, and
breathing place at Hampton Court, both which were indispensable, and
are now annihilated, with the difference of Clubs, public places,
servants' wages, &c.) about four hundred pounds, or Guineas, a year;
no inconsiderable sum, when it must be annually found as addition to
an expence which is somewhat larger than my present revenue.
[Sidenote: HIS ESTABLISHMENT AT LAUSANNE.]
3. _"What is then," you will ask, "my present establishment?"_ This
is not by any means a cheap Country; and, except in the article of
wine, I could give a dinner or make a coat, perhaps for the same
price in London as at Lausanne. My chief advantage arises from the
things which I do not want; and in some respects my style of living
is enlarged by the encrease of my relative importance--an obscure
batchelor in England, the master of a considerable house at Lausanne.
Here I am expected to return entertainments, to receive Ladies, &c.
and to perform many duties of society, which, though agreeable enough
in themselves, contribute to inflame a Housekeeper's bills. From the
disbursements of the first year I cannot form any just estimate; the
extraordinary expences of the journey, carriage of heavy goods from
England, the acquisition of many books, which it was not expedient to
transport, the purchase of furniture, wine, fitting up my library,
and the irregularity of a new Ménage, have consumed a pretty large
sum. But in a quiet, prudent, regular course of life, I think I can
support myself with comfort and honour for six or seven hundred
pounds a year, instead of a thousand or eleven hundred in England.* I
can look forward with strong and rational hope. The departure of the
two matrons, or not to build on the ice, the mere suppression of the
Bath jointure will give me more than that income, which may even be
enlarged by turning Buriton into an annuity.
*Besides these uncertainties, (uncertain at least as to the time,)
I have a sure and honourable supply from my own pen. I continue my
history with pleasure and assiduity; the way is long and laborious,
yet I see the end, and I can almost promise to land in England next
September twelfthmonth, with a Manuscript of the current value of
three thousand pounds, which will afford either a small income
or a large capital. It is in the meanwhile that my situation is
somewhat painful and difficult.* From the French and English funds
and the various produce on my Copper share, I receive between two
or three hundred pounds: the rent of Buriton is between six and
seven hundred, but when you have deducted taxes, repairs, Mrs. G.'s
jointure (£300 clear) &c., weigh the residue; it will not break down
the scale. It happens unluckily enough that this year there will be
an extraordinary deduction (at least one hundred guineas) of the
fine which is paid every seven years for the renewal of Horn farm.
Since my arrival here, I have never received a line from Hugonin,
to whom I wrote a long letter last summer, and I fear his eyes and
infirmities disqualify him a little for business. The sums which he
has remitted to Gosling the last and the present winter fall below
the most moderate computation, and I see no reason or account of the
deficiency. I wish you would write to him in my name or your own,
and make yourself master of that same part of my affairs. Richard
Andrews, an honest attorney of Petersfield, is allowed my quitrents
for holding my courts, and he might surely, without more trouble or
wages, receive and remit the rents of three or four farms.
*Such are the services and revenues of the year; proceed we now,
in the style of the budget, to the ways and means of extraordinary
supplies.* Payne's valuation of the remaining part of my library
has not perfectly answered my expectation. Yet it is approved by my
friend, Elmsley, who offers on his own account to change the pounds
into Guineas, and as I want the money, and esteem his integrity,
I shall signify my acceptance if he will allow me to make another
moderate draft from the Catalogue. That transaction (all accounts
settled) will put some money in my pocket: but as I understand that
kind of business I will not trouble you or myself with any farther
details. A circumstance which surprized me in Gosling's account is
the last six months from Lady day to Michaelmas last, during which
I pay interest for the Mortgage without receiving rent from the
Estate: surely that is not just or reasonable. If that half year is
properly excepted in the Conveyance, you my omnipotent Attorney may
draw it from the tenants, and it will serve at least to discharge
Harris's bond. If it is not, I must submit with a sigh to this new
deduction of two or three hundred pounds from the poor price of
poor Lenborough. But this deficiency must somewhere be supplied: as
I now pay interest to the _Job_ for my horses, I can make the man
wait a Couple of years till my return. But this cursed account of
Newton! He is pathetic, you say, on the score of money advanced; a
draft for £200 which I send you inclosed would surely discharge that
advance, and you will try to manage him to stay till my labours are
finished for the payment of his own. Yet perhaps the clearest and
most honourable way would be to borrow £500 of the Goslings on my
account and your own bond. *I will not affront your friendship, by
observing that you will incur little or no risk on this occasion.
Read, consider, act, and write.
[Sidenote: PITT A FAVOURITE ABROAD.]
It is the privilege of friendship to make our friend a patient
hearer, and active Associate in our own affairs; and I have now
written five pages on my private affairs, without saying a word
either of the public, or of yourself. Of the public I have little to
say; I never was a very warm Patriot, and I grow every day a Citizen
of the World. The scramble for power and profit at Westminster or
St. James's, and the names of Pitt and Fox, become less interesting
to me than those of Cæsar and Pompey. You are not a friend of the
young Minister, but he is a great favourite on the Continent, as
he appears to be still; and you must own that the fairness of his
character, his eloquence, his application to business, and even his
youth, must prepossess at least the ignorant in his favour. Of the
merit or defects of his administration I cannot pretend to speak;
but I find, from the complaints of some interested persons, that
his restraints on the smuggling of tea have already ruined the East
India Companies of Antwerp and Sweden, and that even the Dutch will
scarcely find it worth their while to send any ships to China. Your
Irish friends appear to be more quiet, at least the Volunteers and
national Congress seem to subside. How far that tranquillity must be
purchased on our side, by any pernicious sacrifices, you will best
decide; and from some hints in your last letters, I am inclined to
think that you are less affected than might be supposed with national
or local prejudice. Your introduction I have attentively read; the
matter, though most important in itself, is out of the line of
my studies and habits, and the subordinate beauties of style and
arrangement you disclaim. Yet I can say with truth, that I never met
with more curious and diligent investigation, more strong sense, more
liberal spirit, and more cool and impartial temper in the same number
of pages.[98]
By this time you have probably read Necker's book on the Finances.
Perhaps for you there is too much French enthusiasm and paint; but in
many respects you must have gained a knowledge of his country, and on
the whole, you must have been pleased with the picture of a great and
benevolent mind. In your attack on Deyverdun for my picture I cannot
promise you much success; he seems resolved to maintain his right
of possession, and your only chance would be a personal assault.
The next summer (how time slips away!) was fixed for your visit to
Lausanne. We are prepared at all points to receive _you_, My lady,
and a princess or two, with their train; and if you have a proper
contempt for St. Stephen's chappel, you are perfectly free, and at
leisure (can you ever be at leisure?) for the summer season. As you
are now in a great measure disengaged from my affairs, you may find
time to inform me of your proceedings and your projects. At present
I do not even know whether you pass the winter at Sheffield-place or
in Downing-street. My lady revenges herself of my long silence. Yet
I embrace her and the Infants. In a few weeks we expect Miss Bristow
and Mrs. Fraser from Nice. Adieu. You have deranged the decline and
fall this morning. I have finished my Epistle since dinner, and am
now going to a pleasant party and good supper.*
I send you enclosed a promissory note for £500. If you do not borrow
the money of Gosling, you may throw it into the fire; if you do, in
case of death it will serve as a remembrance. You will find that
before and since the receipt of their balance I have drawn this year
for £300. The change is most amazingly in my favour, and a banker of
credit and substance at Lausanne allows me 4 per Cent. for all the
money I leave on his hands.
[98] Lord Sheffield published, in 1785, his _Observations on the
Manufactures, Trade, and Present State of Ireland_.
500.
_To his Stepmother._
Lausanne, July 15th, 1785.