m
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHIES 
 
 OF 
 
 EDWARD GIBBON 
 
 a
 
 Atrnian (yiunnuA/vui^LJ^cnfll /^ 
 
 u.^/'mj
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHIES 
 
 OF 
 
 EDWAED GIBBOISr. 
 
 /// 
 
 PFdNTED VERBATIM FROM HITHERTO 
 
 UNPUBLISHED MSS., WITH AN 
 
 INTRODUCTION BY THE EARL OF SHEFFIELD. 
 
 EPITED BY 
 
 JOHN MURRAY. 
 
 WITH PORTRAIT. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 
 
 1897.
 
 Zv^AI 
 
 c 2. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PKINTED BV ■WIIXIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 
 STAMFORD STREET AND CHARINO CROSS.
 
 INTKODUCTION BY THE EARL OF 
 SHEFFIELD. 
 
 The centenary of the death of Edward Gibbon (died 
 January, 1794, aged fifty-six) was recorded by a public 
 commemoration held in London in November, 1894, at 
 the instance of the Royal Historical Society. The dis- 
 tinguished committee of English and foreign students, 
 who were associated on that occasion, invited me to 
 become their President, as representing the family with 
 which Gibbon had been so intimately connected, and 
 which still retained the portraits, manuscripts, letters, 
 and relics of the historian. The exhibition of these in 
 the British Museum, and the commemoration held on 
 November 15, reawakened interest in the work and re- 
 mains of one of the greatest names in English literature ; 
 and a general desire was expressed that the manuscripts 
 should be again collated, and that what was yet un- 
 published might be given to the world. 
 
 As is well known, it was my grandfather, the first 
 Earl, who made the historian almost his adopted brother, 
 gave him a home both in town and in country, was his 
 devisee and literary executor, and edited and published 
 the famous Autobiography, the letters, and remains.
 
 VI INTRODUCTION BY THE EARL OF SHEFFIELD. 
 
 All of these passed under Edward Gibbon's will to Lord 
 Sheffield ; and, together with books, relics, portraits, and 
 various mementos, they have been for a century pre- 
 served by my father and myself with religious care and 
 veneration in Sheffield Park. The original autograph 
 manuscripts of the Memoirs, the Diaries, Letters, Note- 
 hooJcs, etc., have now become the property of the British 
 Museum, subject to the copyright of all the unpublished 
 parts which was previously assigned to Mr. Murray. And 
 it is with no little pleasure and pride that I have acceded 
 to the request of the publishers that I would introduce 
 these unpublished remains to the world, and thus com- 
 plete the task of editing the historian, to which my 
 grandfather devoted so great a portion of his time, not 
 only as a testamentary duty, but as a labour of love. 
 
 The connection of the historian with my grandfather, 
 his early friend, John Holroyd, and the members of the 
 Holroyd family, forms one of the pleasantest and also 
 most interesting passages in literary history. It was in 
 no way interrupted by Lord Sheffield's public and official 
 duties ; it was continued without a cloud to obscure their 
 intimacy, until it was sundered by death ; and the Earl, 
 who survived his friend so long, continued to edit and 
 to publish the manuscripts left in his hands for some 
 twenty years after the death of the historian. 
 
 By a clause in the will of Edward Gibbon, dated July 
 14, 1788, his papers were entrusted to Lord Sheffield and 
 Mr. John Batt, his executors, in the following terms : — 
 
 " I will that all my IManuscript papers ftnind at the 
 time of my decease be delivered to my executors, and 
 that if any shall appear sufficiently finished for the public
 
 INTRODUCTION BY THE EARL OF SHEFFIELD. Vil 
 
 eye, they do treat for the purchase of the same with a 
 Bookseller, giving the preference to Mr. Andrew Strahan 
 and Mr. Thomas Cadell, whose liberal spirit I have 
 experienced in similar transactions. And whatsoever 
 monies may accrue from such sale and publication I give 
 to my much-valued friend William Hayley, Esq., of 
 Eastham, in the County of Sussex. But in case he shall 
 dye before me, I give the aforesaid monies to the Royal 
 Society of London and the Royal Academy of Inscrip- 
 tions of Paris, share and share alike, in trust to be by 
 them employed in such a manner as they shall deem most 
 beneficial to the cause of Learning." 
 
 In pursuance of the directions contained in the will 
 and of many verbal communications. Lord Sheffield, in 
 1799, published the Miscellaneous WorJcs of Edward 
 Gibbon, with Memoirs of his Life and Writings, in 2 vols., 
 4to. A third volume was added in 1815, and a new 
 edition of the whole, with additions, appeared during the 
 same year in 5 vols., Svo. In 1837 another edition, in 
 one large Svo volume, was published. 
 
 By a clause in his own will, Lord Sheffield directed 
 that no further publication of the historian's manuscripts 
 should be made. 
 
 " And I request of my said trustees and my heirs that 
 none of the said manuscripts, papers, or books of the said 
 Edward Gibbon be published unless my approbation of 
 the publication be directed by some memorandum in- 
 dorsed and written or signed by me. And I also request 
 the person entitled for the time being to the possession 
 thereof not to suifer the same to be out of his possession 
 or to be improperly exposed."
 
 viii INTEODUCTION BY THE EAKL OF SHEFFIELD. 
 
 This direction lias been strictly followed by my father, 
 the second Earl, and by myself ; and it is believed that 
 no person has ever had access to any of the manuscripts 
 for any literary purpose, excepting the late Dean Milman, 
 who, when editing his well-known edition of the Decline 
 and Fall, in 1842, was permitted to inspect the original 
 manuscripts of the Autobiograj^hy, on condition of not 
 publishing any new matter. 
 
 The commemoration of 1894, however, again raised 
 the question whether such an embargo on giving to the 
 world writings of national importance was ever meant to 
 be, or even ought to be, regarded as perpetual. Whilst 
 persons named in these papers or their children were 
 living, whilst the bitter controversies of the last century 
 were still unforgotten, whilst the fame of Edward Gibbon 
 had hardly yet become one of our national glories, it 
 was a matter of good feeling and sound judgment in Lord 
 Sheffield to exercise an editor's discretion in publishing 
 his friend's confession and private thoughts. Now that 
 more than a hundred years have passed since his deaths 
 no such considerations have weight or meaning. And 
 the opinion of those whom I have consulted, both pro- 
 fessionally and as private friends, amply corroborates my 
 own conclusion, that it is a duty which I owe to my own 
 ancestor and to the public to give to the world all the 
 remains of the historian which for more than a century 
 have been preserved in the strong room of Sheffield Park. 
 
 The unlocking of the cases in which these manu- 
 scripts were secured was quite a revelation of literary 
 workmanship, and has led to a most interesting problem 
 in literary history. The manuscripts of the historian
 
 INTRODUCTION BY THE EARL OF SHEFFIELD. IX 
 
 are all holographs — the text of the famous Memoirs 
 being written with extraordinary beauty of calligraphy, 
 and studied with the utmost care. But, singularly 
 enough, none of the texts are prepared for immediate, 
 or even direct, publication. The historian wrote, at 
 various intervals between 1788 and 1793, no less than 
 six different sketches. They are not quite continuous ; 
 they partly recount the same incidents in different form ; 
 they are written in different tones : and yet no one of 
 them is complete ; none of them seem plainly designed 
 to supersede the rest. There is even a small seventh 
 sketch, from which one of the noblest and most famous 
 passages that Gibbon ever wrote has been excised, and 
 inserted in the published Autobiography. 
 
 Lord ShefiSeld executed his editorial task with 
 extreme judgment, singular ingenuity, but remarkable 
 freedom. He was assisted in preparing the manuscripts 
 for publication by his wife and by Lady Maria Holroyd, 
 his eldest daughter, who became by marriage the first 
 Lady Stanley of Alderley. This very able and remark- 
 able woman, of whose abilities the historian expressed 
 in letters his great admiration, evidently marked the 
 manuscripts in pencil handwriting (now recognized as 
 hers) for the printer's copyist. These pencil deletions, 
 transpositions, and even additions, correspond with the 
 Autobiography as published by Lord Sheffield. Quite 
 a third of the whole manuscript is omitted, and many of 
 the most piquant passages that Gibbon ever wrote were 
 suppressed by the caution or the delicacy of his editor 
 and his family. 
 
 The result is a problem of singular literary interest.
 
 X INTRODUCTION BY THE EARL OF SHEFFIELD. 
 
 A j)iece, most elaborately composed by one of the greatest 
 writers who ever used our language, an autobiography 
 often pronounced to be the best we possess, is now proved 
 to be in no sense the simple work of that illustrious pen, 
 but to have been dexterously jiieced together out of seven 
 fragmentary sketches and adapted into a single and 
 coherent narrative. The manner and the extent of this 
 extraordinary piece of editing has been so fully explained 
 in the address of November 15, published by the 
 Centenary Committee, that it is not necessary for me to 
 enlarge upon it further. 
 
 No sooner had the discovery of the process by which 
 Gibbon's Autohiography had been concocted been made 
 public, than a general desire was expressed to have the 
 originals published in the form in which the historian 
 left them. It was no case of incomplete or illegible 
 manuscripts, nor of rough drafts designed only as notes 
 for subsequent composition. The whole of the seven 
 manuscripts are written with perfect precision ; the style 
 is in Gibbon's most elaborate manner; and each piece 
 is perfectly ready for the printer — so far as it goes. It 
 was impossible to do again the task of consolidation 
 so admirably performed by Lord Shefiield. Notliing 
 remained but to print the whole of the pieces verhatim, 
 as the historian wrote them, not necessarily in the order 
 of time of their apparent composition, but so as to form 
 a consecutive narrative of the author's life. 
 
 The reader may now rest assured that, for the first 
 time, he has before him the Autobiograjjhic Sketches of 
 Edward Gibbon in the exact form in which he left them 
 at his death. The portions enclosed in dark brackets are
 
 INTEODUCTION BY THE EARL OP SHEFFIELD. XI 
 
 the passages which were omitted by Lord Sheffield, and 
 in the notes are inserted the passages or sentences, few 
 and simple in themselves, which Lord Sheffield added to 
 the original manuscript. For various reasons it was 
 found impracticable to print the six sketches in parallel 
 columns ; but the admirers of the historian and all 
 students of English literature will find abundant oppor- 
 tunity for collating the original texts with each other, 
 and with the text as published by the editor, and now 
 for a century current as one of the masterpieces of English 
 literature. 
 
 The Letters of the historian, the bulk of which were 
 addressed to Lord Sheffield and his family, were published 
 in part b)^ my grandfather in one or other of the editions 
 of The Miscellaneous Worlcs of Edward Gibbon. But in 
 this collection many letters were omitted, and most of 
 them were printed with some omissions and variations. 
 These omissions have now been restored ; and the Letters, 
 like the other papers of our author, are now for the first 
 time given to the world in the form in which they were 
 composed. 
 
 I cannot pretend to any rivalry with my grandfather 
 in the matter of the skill with which he performed the 
 task of editing and selecting for publication the remains 
 of his friend. But I can assure the reader that every joiece 
 contained in this volume as the work of Edward Gibbon is 
 now printed exactly as he wrote it without suppression or 
 emendation. And in transferring these literary treasures 
 to the nation, and in giving them to the world, I 
 feel that I am fulfilling the trust which the historian 
 reposed in my grandfather, and am acting in the
 
 Xll INTRODUCTION BY THE EARL OF SHEFFIELD. 
 
 spirit of the lifelong friendship that bound him to my 
 family. 
 
 I cannot conclude these prefatory remarks without 
 acknowledging to the fullest extent the obligation I am 
 under to Mr. Frederic Harrison for the assistance he has 
 given me in the preparation and composition of this 
 Preface.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Lord Sheffield has, in his introduction, told the history 
 of the documents contained in this volume so fully, that 
 I will only call attention to one or two minor points 
 respecting the manner in which they are now presented 
 to the public. 
 
 It was my first intention to append to the auto- 
 biographies a very few explanatory notes, but when the 
 preparation of the proofs had made some progress, I 
 came upon a series of memoranda — I can hardly give 
 them the name of formal notes — in the historian's own 
 handwriting, which were numbered consecutively, but 
 otherwise bore no clue as to the part of the memoirs to 
 which they referred. 
 
 I soon found that they belonged to Memoir F, which 
 had been placed first of the series. In dealing with 
 them three courses were open : (1) To omit them 
 altogether ; (2) to affix them to the passages to which 
 they referred, and leave them to tell their own tale ; 
 (3) to elaborate them, by finding out the meaning of 
 the very brief and enigmatical sentences of which for 
 the most part they consist. 
 
 After much deliberation, and taking coimsel of
 
 XIV PKEFACE. 
 
 several competent advisers, I decided to adopt the 
 third course, iu the hope that, by so doing, I should 
 help to place the reader in a position to understand the 
 working of Gibbon's mind, and the method of his com- 
 position, without constant reference to other books. 
 
 The explanation of these memoranda, such as it is, 
 has been a work of considerable labour ; on these grounds 
 I would ask the indulgence of the reader and the critic 
 if the notes do not possess that finish which perhaps it 
 would be impossible, in the circumstances, to impart to 
 them. 
 
 The numbered notes to Memoir E are Gibbon's own ; 
 a few of Dean Milman's notes, and almost all of those 
 supplied by the first Lord Sheffield, have been retained 
 throughout. 
 
 In reproducing the autobiographies it has been my 
 endeavour to give a literal transcription of the manu- 
 scripts, including Gibbon's own spellings, and mis- 
 spellings of various words. 
 
 I wish to record my thanks to Mr. Francis B. Bickley, 
 of the British Museum, for the skill and care with which 
 he has collated the proofs with the original manuscripts ; 
 and to the President of Magdalen College, to the officials 
 at the Heralds' College, to Mr. H. E. Tedder, F.S.A., and 
 to Mrs. Salmon, for the assistance which they have afforded 
 me in clearing up many obscure points and allusions. 
 
 JOHN MUERxVY.
 
 CONTENTS, 
 
 PACK 
 
 MEMOIR F 1 
 
 The latest and most perfect. Writtea in 1792-3, brought 
 down to 1753. 
 
 Appendix to Memoir F 96 
 
 MEMOIR B 104 
 
 From hia birth till the eve of his journey into Italy in 1764. 
 
 MEMOIR C 211 
 
 (Written about 1789) ; from his birth till 1772, when, two years 
 after his father's death, he let the farm of Buritou, and 
 removed to London. 
 
 MEMOIR E 293 
 
 From the early history of the family to July, 1789. 
 
 MEMOIR A 353 
 
 The earliest sketch ; written in 1788-9. From the early records 
 of the family down to the death of Mr. Wm. Law in 1761. 
 
 MEMOIR D 391 
 
 From his birth to his father's death. "Written 1790-91 ; not 
 hitherto published. 
 
 Memorakda and Fragments ... 41 & 
 
 Will of Edward Gibbon made in 1788 420 
 
 Index 425'
 
 THE AUTOBIOGEAPHIES OF 
 
 EDWARD GIBBON. 
 
 CHAPTER I.* 
 
 Throughout these autobiographies the portions hitherto unpublished 
 
 are inserted in [ ]. 
 
 My family is originally derived from the County of Kent,^ 
 whose inhabitants have maintained from the earliest 
 antiquity ^ a provincial character of civility, courage, and 
 freedom. The southern district of the country, which 
 borders on Sussex and the sea, was formerly overspread 
 with the great forest Anderida,'^ and even now retains 
 the denomination of the Weald, or Woodland. In this 
 district, and in the hundred and parish of Eolvenden, 
 the Gibbons were possessed of lands in the year one 
 thousand three hundred and twenty-six; and the elder 
 
 ^ Cambden in Kent, masterly work — style and spirit 
 pictoresque — Latin Edition — original text — my Edition, 1607. 
 
 ^ From Caesar, Will, of Malm. John Sarisb. — provincial 
 marks lost— progress of Society— isle of Sky superior to Old 
 Kent. 
 
 =* Anderida — Cambden finds that Newenden-sea has 
 retired,! 
 
 * Memoir F, the latest and most perfect. Written in 1792-3, brought 
 <iown to 1753. 
 
 t See Appendix, 1, p. 96. 
 
 B
 
 o 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 branch of the family, without much encrease or diminution 
 of property, still adheres to its native soil. Fourteen 
 years after the first appearance of his name, John Gibbon 
 is recorded as the Marmorarius, or Architect, of King 
 Edward the Third ; the strong and stately castle of Queen- 
 borough,^ which guarded the entrance of the Medway, was 
 a monument of his skill ; and the grant of an hereditary 
 toll on the passage from Sandwich to Stonar, in the Isle 
 of Thanet, is the reward of no vulgar artist. In the visi- 
 tations of the Heralds, the Gibbons are frequently men- 
 tioned : they held the rank of Esquire in an age when 
 that title was less promiscuously assumed : one of them, 
 under the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was Captain of the 
 militia of Kent ; and a free school in the neighbouring 
 town of Benenden proclaims the charity and oj^ulence of 
 its founder.* But time, or their own obscurity, has cast a 
 
 * Queenborongh. Castellum et mnnitissimum quod Eex 
 Ed. III. posuit, lit ipse scribit situ amoeno ad terrorem hostium 
 et solatium Populi.f 
 
 * Canon Joy, Vicar of Benenden, in Benenden, called Sarnden, corn- 
 has kindly furnished ine with par- jnitcd at 70 acres, for the raainte- 
 ticulars of the benefactions of the nances of an Uslier for the School. 
 Giblion family :— " 1C99. The FeofTees by Sale of 
 
 " 1602. Edmund Gybbon of Timber off the said Farm, pur- 
 
 Benenden, Emcj"', gave a Free chased a house and lands, esti- 
 
 School, houso, and lands near the mated at 16 acres, near the Beacon 
 
 Beacon Hill, estimated at 8U acres, Hill, tor an additional maintenance 
 
 towards iht; maintenance of the for the Usher, 
 master of the Seliool. "1713. John Gybbon of Hole, 
 
 " In the wall of the S. Chantry Esq"', gave an Exchequer annuity 
 
 Chapel (evidently not in xitu) is a of £14 per annum out of the excise 
 
 small brass with the following in- of beer, etc., which will expire in 
 
 Hcription: ' Under this stone doeth 1701, for a further augmentation 
 
 lye buried y'' body of Edmond to the Schoolmaster, provided lie 
 
 (Jiblion, late of this Pish of Ben- be neither Vie;ir, Curate, or Reader, 
 
 ninden, wiio dyed y last of January and if he be, then for the use of 
 
 in Anno Dni. 1607, who was y" poor Girhs." 
 
 prineipall founder of Free Scolc of The school founded by Edmund 
 
 Benninden, and gave tho living Gibbon in 1602 is still (189G) the 
 
 that thereto belongeth.' boys' sciiool. 
 
 " 1677. Edmund Gybbon of "f Cf. Memoir A, p. 358. 
 
 Hole, Esq"", gave a house and lands
 
 EARLY HISTORY OF THE GIBBON FAMILY. o 
 
 veil of oblivion over the virtues and vices of my Kentish 
 
 ancestors : their character or station confined them to the 
 
 labours and pleasures of a rural life; nor is it in my 
 
 power to follow the advice of the poet in an enquiry after 
 
 a name — 
 
 '' Go ! search it there, where to be 1)orn, and dye 
 Of rich and poor makes all the history " — * 
 
 So recent is the institution of our parish registers.^^ In 
 the beginning of the seventeenth century a younger 
 branch of the Gibbons of Eolvenden migrated from the 
 Country to the city, and from this branch I do not 
 blush to descend. The law requires some abilities ; the 
 Church imposes some restraints, and before our army 
 and navy, our Civil establishments and Indian Empire, 
 had opened so many paths of fortune, the mercantile 
 profession was more frequently chosen by youths of a 
 liberal race and education who aspired to create their 
 own independence. Our most respectable families have 
 not disdained the counting-house or even the shop ; 
 their names are enrolled in the livery and companies of 
 London ; and in England, as well as in the Italian 
 commonwealths, heralds have been compelled to declare 
 that Gentility is not degraded by the exercise of trade. 
 
 The armorial ensigns which in the times of Chivalry 
 adorned the crest and shield of the soldier are now 
 
 ^ Pope, M. E. iii. 287. 
 
 ^* Eegisters first Lord Cromwell, 1538. Anderson. Vol. i. 
 p. 367 — few so old — series broken.* 
 
 * An Historical and Chronological the dissolution of Monasteries, every 
 
 Deductionof the Origin of Commerce incumbent minister in all the 
 
 from the earliest accounts to the parishes in England was compelled 
 
 present time, by Adam Anderson. to keep a register of all Weddings, 
 
 London, 1764. " By order of Christenings, and Burials." — Vol. i. 
 
 Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex, p. 367. 
 Vicar-General of Henry VIII., upon
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 become an empty decoration, which every man who has 
 money to build a carriage may paint, according to his 
 fancy, on the pannels. My family arms are the same 
 which were borne by the Gibbons of Kent in an age when 
 the College of Heralds religiously guarded the distinc- 
 tions of blood and name : a Lyon, ramjMiit, gardant, 
 hetween three scallop-shells, Argent on a field Azure.'' I 
 should not, however, have been tempted to blazon my 
 coat of arms, the most useless of all coats, were it not 
 connected with a whimsical anecdote. About the reio;n 
 of James the First, the three harmless scallop-shells were 
 changed by Edmund Gibbon, Esq., into three Ogresses^ 
 or female cannibals, with the design of stigmatizing three 
 ladies, his kinswomen, who had provoked him by an unjust 
 law-suit.* But this singular mode of revenge, for which he 
 obtained the sanction of Sir William Segar, King-at-arms, 
 soon expired with its author ; and on his own monument 
 in the Temple Church, the Monsters vanish, and the three 
 scallop-shells resume their proper and hereditary place. 
 
 ^Our alliances by marriage it is not disgraceful to 
 mention. Blue-mantle Poursuivant, who will soon be 
 introduced to the reader's acquaintance, enumerates the 
 Phillips de la Weld in Tenterden, the Whetnals of East- 
 
 ^ Arms. In Latin by G. f 
 
 * Those who are acquainted 
 with heraldry are awan- that the 
 word ofjress is a synonym for a 
 jpdltt or roundle. Tlicse roundlea 
 ore supposed to represent little 
 coloured cakes or wafers used in 
 the Crusades, and according to 
 their colour they are in English 
 heraldry termed : Bezants (gold), 
 Plates (silver), Pomeis (grei-n), 
 Torteaux (red), Golpes (purple), 
 Guzes (sanguine), and iVllets 
 (black). In substituting pellets 
 
 for scallops, Edmund Gibbon was 
 guilty of a dclicati' heraldic pun 
 which liisdt'sccudant woidd appear 
 to liave taki'U in a literal, not a 
 technical sensi' (cf. p. 'MO). 
 
 t The father of Lord Chancellor 
 Hurdwicke murrii'd an lieiress of 
 tliis family of Gibbon. The Chan- 
 cellor's escutcheon in the Temple 
 Hall quarters the arms of Gibbon, 
 as doi's also that, in Lincoln's Inn 
 Hall, of Charles Yorke, Chancellor 
 in 1770. — Sheffield.
 
 LORD SAY AND SELE. 5 
 
 Peckham, the Edgars of Suffolk, the Cromers, the 
 Bercleys of Beauston, the Hextalls, the Ellenbriggs, 
 the Calveiieys, the Whetnalls of Cheshire — modestly- 
 checking his pen lest he should seem to indulge the 
 pride of pedigree : " nam genus et proavos," etc. As such 
 pride Avould be ridiculous, it would be scarcely less 
 ridiculous to disclaim it ; and I shall simply observe 
 that the Gibbons have been immediately or remotely 
 connected with several worthy families of the old gentry 
 of Enirland. The Memoirs of the Count de Grammont,'' 
 a favourite book of every man and woman of taste, 
 immortalize the Whetnalls or Whitnells of Peckham : 
 *'la blanche Whitnell et le triste Peckham." But the 
 insipid charms of the lady, and the dreary solitude of 
 the mansion, were sometimes enlivened by Hamilton and 
 love ; and had not our alliance preceded her marriage, I 
 should be less confident of my descent from the AVhetnalls 
 of Peckham. The Cromers in the fifteenth century were 
 twice Sheriffs of Kent and twice Lord Mayors of London. 
 But] the chief honour of my ancestry is James Fiens, 
 Baron Say and Scale, and Lord High Treasurer of 
 England in the reign of Henry the Sixth, from whom, by 
 the Phelips, the Whetnalls, and the Cromers, I am lineally 
 descended in the eleventh degree. His dismission and 
 imprisonment in the Tower were insufUcient to appease 
 the popular clamour ; and the Treasurer, with his son-in- 
 law Cromer,* was beheaded (1450), after a mock tryal, by 
 the Kentish insurgents. The black list of his offences, 
 
 ' Grammont, C. — Court at Tunbridge — merry times.t 
 
 * Cade. "Go take him away, I and strike off his head, and bring 
 
 Bay, and strike oft" his head pre- them both upon two poles thither." 
 
 sently : and then break into his son- — 2 Henry VI., iv. 7. 
 
 in-law's house, Sir James Cromer, f See Appendix, 2, p. 96.
 
 6 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [MKMom F. 
 
 as it is exhibited in Shakespeare, displays the ignorance 
 and envy of a plebeian tyrant. Besides the vague 
 reproaches of selling Maine and Normandy to the 
 Dauphin, the Treasurer is specially accused of luxury for 
 riding on a foot-cloth, and of treason for speaking 
 French, the language of our enemies. " Thou has most 
 traiterously corrupted the youth of the Ilealm " (says Jack 
 Cade to the unfortunate Lord), " in erecting a grammar 
 school : and, whereas, before, our fore-fathers had na 
 other books than the score and the tally, thou hast 
 caused printing to be used ; and, contrary to the King, 
 his Crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It 
 will be proved to thy face, that thou hast men about 
 thee, who usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such 
 abominable words as no Christian ear can endure ta 
 hear." * Our dramatic Poet is generally more attentive 
 to character than to history ; and I much fear that the 
 art of printing was not introduced into England till 
 several years after Lord Say's death : ^ but of some of 
 these meritorious crimes I should hope to find my 
 ancestor guilty ; and a man of letters may be proud of 
 his descent from a Patron and martyr of learning. 
 
 In the beginning of the last century, Eobert Gibbon, 
 Esq., of Eolvendeu in Kent, who died in 1618, had a 
 
 * Caxton, 1471 — Westminster. Thos9 who believe in 
 Harleru and Corselia cling to Sh. and allow Lord Say an 
 experiment. Origin of printing, I believe, by Nichols, 1776, 
 pp. 19, 20, 2nd ed. 8vo. after 25.* 
 
 * 2 Ilenry VI., iv. 7. On thia laud (before the time of Caxton) 
 
 passage Blackstone writes: "Mr. by Frederic Corsellis, a workman 
 
 Mcermun in his Orirjines Typn- from lliurieni in tlie time of Henry 
 
 gruphicv hath availed liiiuself VI." Tlie whole question is fully 
 
 of this passage in ShakcBpearo discussed in Tiraperley's TJncyclo- 
 
 to support his liypothesis that jiiBdid of Literary avd Typ(i<jraithi- 
 
 printing was introduced into Eug- cal Anecdote, l^i'-i, pp. 144, it eeq.
 
 JOHN GIBBON. 7 
 
 son of the same name of Eobert, who settled in London 
 in trade and became a member of the Cloth-workers' 
 Company. His wife was a daughter of the Edgars, who 
 flourished above four hundred years in the County of 
 Suffolk, and produced an eminent and wealthy Serjeant- 
 at-law, Sir Gregory Edgar, in the reign of Henry the 
 Seventh. Of the sons of Kobert Gibbon who died in 164o, 
 Matthew did not aspire above the station of a linnen- 
 draper in Leadenhall Street, in the Parisli of St. 
 Andrew's, but John has given the Public some curious 
 Memorials of his existence, his character, and his family. 
 He was born the third of November, in the year 1629 ; his 
 education was liberal, at a grammar-scliool, and after- 
 wards in Jesus College at Cambridge, and he celebrates 
 the retired content which he enjoyed at Allesborough 
 in Worcestershire, in the house of Thomas Lord 
 Coventry, where John Gibbon was employed as domestic 
 tutor, [the same office which Mr. Hobbes exercised in 
 the Devonshire family.^'] But the spirit of my kinsman 
 soon emerged into more active life ; he visited foreign 
 countries as a soldier and a traveller ; acquired the 
 knowledge of the French and Spanish languages ; passed 
 some time in the Isle of Jersey ; crossed the Atlantic, 
 and resided upwards of a twelf month (1G59) in the rising 
 Colony of Virginia. In this remote province his taste, 
 or rather passion, for Heraldry found a singular gratifica- 
 tion at a War-dance of the native Indians. As they 
 moved in measured steps, brandishing their Tamahawks, 
 his ".urious eye contemplated their little shields of bark, 
 
 *'^ The comparison is his own — quotes the words of Mr. 
 Hobbes.* 
 
 * Cf. Memoir A, p. 367.
 
 8 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu F. 
 
 and their naked bodies, which were painted with the 
 colours and symbols of his favourite science. " At which 
 I exceedingly wondered ; and concluded that Heraldry 
 was ingrafted naturally into the sense of humane 
 race. If so, it deserves a greater esteem than now-a-days 
 is put upon it." His return to England, after the 
 restoration, was soon followed by his marriage, his 
 settlement in an house in St. Catherine's cloyster near 
 the Tower, which devolved to my grandfather, and his 
 introduction into the Heralds College (in 1671), by the 
 style and title of Bluemantle Poursuivant at arms. In 
 this office he enjoyed near fifty years the rare felicity of 
 uniting in the same pursuit his duty and inclination; 
 his name is remembered in the college, and many of his 
 letters are still preserved.^ Several of the most respect- 
 able characters of the age. Sir William Dugdale, Mr. 
 Ashmole, Dr. John Betts, and Dr. Nehemiah Grew were 
 his friends ; and in the society of such men, John 
 Gibbon may be recorded without disgrace as the member 
 of an Astrological Club. The study of hereditary 
 honours is favourable to the Eoyal prerogative ; and my 
 kinsman, like most of his family, was a high Tory in 
 Church and State. In the latter end of the reign of 
 Charles the Second, his pen was exercised in the cause 
 of the Duke of York ; ^" the Republican faction he most 
 
 ^ Mr. Brooks Lancaster Herald.* 
 ^° Moral verses.j 
 
 * There never has been a Mr. the larf::e amount of work done 
 
 Brooks, Lancaster Herald, but from by liis kinsman at the College of 
 
 a passage in Metuoir A (p. 3.iG) Arms, and of the high estnnation 
 
 it is evident that IMr. John Charles in whicli that work was held — an 
 
 Brooke, wlio was Rouge Croix in estimation which survives to the 
 
 1773 and Somerset Herald in 1778, present time. 
 
 is meant. It is very probable f This refers to the versos seat- 
 that Gibbon heard from him of tcred through the other works of
 
 JOHN GIBBON THE HERALD. 
 
 9 
 
 cordially detested ; and as each animal is conscious of 
 its proper arms, the Herald's revenge was emblazoned 
 on a most Diabolical scutcheon.^^ But the triumph of 
 the Whig Government checked the preferment of Blue- 
 Mantle ; and he was even suspended from his office till his 
 tongue could learn to pronounce the oath of abjuration. 
 His life was prolonged to the age of ninety, and in the 
 expectation of the inevitable though uncertain hour, he 
 wishes to preserve the blessings of health, competence, 
 and virtue. In the year 1682 he published at London 
 his Infroductio ad Latinam Blasoniam, an original 
 attempt which Cambden had desiderated to define, in 
 the Roman idiom, the terms and attributes of a Gothic 
 institution. His manner is quaint and affected ; his order 
 is confused ; but he displays some wit, more reading, and 
 still more enthusiasm, and if an enthusiast be often absurd, 
 he is never languid. An English text is perpetually in- 
 terspersed with Latin sentences in prose and verse ; but 
 in his own poetry he claims an exemption from the 
 laws of prosody. Amidst a profusion of genealogical 
 knowledge, my kinsman could not be forgetful of his 
 own name ; and to him I am indebted for almost the 
 
 " Diabolical blazon — defence of false heraldry. 
 
 Jnlm Gibbon, viz. : Edouardus Con- 
 fessor Eedivhnis, The Fiety and 
 Vertues of Holy Edward the Con- 
 ftsnor, Revived in the sacred Majesty 
 of King James II., pnhlished 1688 ; 
 tlnio Dissidentium, Heir Apparent 
 and Presumptive made one, 1680; 
 Day Fatality, or some observations 
 of Bays luchy and unhicky. Penn'd 
 ond Published whilst His present 
 Majesty the most Serene Kinff 
 James II. tvas Duke of York, 1678. 
 * " Tutus Bit Augustissimus Rex 
 
 Carolus, Saucti Fcelicis Festos, 
 prospere uatus ; Celsissimus Illus- 
 trissinius Dux Jacobus, qucm Stel- 
 1am Borcalem ante multos annos 
 prasdixere Vates ; et universa Stirps 
 Eegia, h Turba Fauatica Anti- 
 monarchica : Quibus Symbolum et 
 Insigne est, Bellua multorum Capi- 
 tum, coloris Diabolici (viz. nigri) 
 iu Campo sanguineo (Arnies pour 
 enqueiir, ut dicinius Gallice')." — 
 Gibbon, Introductio Ad Latinam 
 Blasonian, p. 165 (cf. p. 371).
 
 10 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoiu F. 
 
 whole of my information concerning the Gibbon family. 
 From this small work, a duodecimo of one hundred and 
 sixty-five pages, the author expected immortal fame ; 
 and at the conclusion of his labour, he sings in a strain 
 of self-exultation — 
 
 " Usque hue corrigitur Romana Blasonia per rae 
 Verborunique dehinc barbara forma cadat 
 
 Hie liber in meritum si forsitan incidet usum 
 Testis rite meae sedulitatis erit, 
 
 Quiequid agat Zoilus, ventura fatebitur setas 
 Artis quod fueram non Clypearis inops." 
 
 Such are the hopes of authors ! In the failure of those 
 hopes, John Gibbon has not been the first of his profes- 
 sion, and very possibly may not be the last of his name.^^ 
 His brother, Matthew Gibbon, the linnendraper of 
 Leadenhall Street, had one daughter and two sons ; my 
 grandfather Edward, who was born in the year 166G, and 
 Thomas, afterwards Dean of Carlisle. According to the 
 mercantile creed that the best book is a profitable ledger, 
 the writings of John the herald would be much less 
 precious than those of his nephew Edward : but an 
 author professes, at least, to write for the public benefit ; 
 and the slow balance of trade can only be pleasing to 
 those persons to whom it is advantageous. The suc- 
 cessful industry of my grandfather raised him above the 
 level of his immediate ancestors ; he appears to have 
 launched into various and extensive dealings : even his 
 opinions were subordinate to his interest, and I find him 
 in Flanders cloathing King William's troops ; while he 
 
 " Oblivion — From Wolfenbuttcl to Lausanne.* 
 
 * This memorandum i^ ex- (Jiljlmn died in 17KS, a)t. 89, and 
 plained by a jm.Sri;i;^e in IMeuidir A, ia burii-d in St. Jlary Alilermary, 
 p. iiji'i ; of. C, p. 214. John Bow Luue.
 
 EDWAED GIBBON, 1666-1763. 11 
 
 would have contracted with more pleasure, though not, 
 perhaps, at a cheaper rate, for the service of King James. 
 During his residence abroad, his concerns at home were 
 managed by his mother Hester, an active and notable 
 woman. Her second husband was a widower of the name 
 of Acton ; they united the children of their first nuptials : 
 after his marriage with the daughter of Eichard Acton, 
 Goldsmith, in Leadenhall Street, he gave his own sister 
 to Sir Whitmore Acton, of Aldenham; and I am thus 
 connected by a triple alliance with that ancient and loyal 
 family of Shropshire Baronets. It consisted, about that 
 time, of seven brothers, all of Gigantic stature ; one of 
 whom, a pygmy of six feet two inches, confessed himself 
 the last and least of the seven : adding in the true 
 spirit of party, that such men were not born since the 
 E evolution. Under the Tory administration of the four 
 last years of Queen Anne (1710-1714), Mr. Edward 
 Gibbon was appointed one of the Commissioners of the 
 Customs ; he sat at that board with Prior ; but the 
 merchant was better qualified for his station than the 
 poet, since Lord Bolingbroke has been heard to declare, 
 that he had never conversed with a man who more 
 clearly understood the commerce and finances of England. 
 In the year 1716 he was elected one of the Directors of 
 the South-sea company ; and his books exhibited the 
 proof that, before his acceptance of this fatal ofifice, he 
 had acquired an independent fortune of sixty thousand 
 pounds. 
 
 But his fortune was overwhelmed in the shipwreck 
 of the year twenty, and the labours of thirty years 
 were blasted in a single day. Of the use or abuse of 
 the South-sea scheme, of the guilt or innocence of my
 
 12 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 grandfather and his brother-Directors, I am neither a com- 
 petent nor a disinterested Judge. Yet the equity of modern 
 times must condemn the violent and arbitrary proceedings 
 which would have disgraced the cause of Justice, and 
 would render injustice still more odious.^^ No sooner 
 had the nation awakened from its golden dream, than a 
 popular and even a parliamentary clamour demanded 
 their victims ; but it was acknowledged on all sides that 
 the South-sea Directors, however guilty, could not be 
 touched by any known laws of the land. The speech of 
 Lord Molesworth, the author of the state of Denmark, 
 may shew the temj^er, or rather the intemperance, of the 
 House of Commons.^* " Extraordinary crimes," exclaimed 
 
 ^^ Tindal and Anderson * — a private narrative — negocia- 
 tions — false hopes to the last. 
 
 " Molesworth in B. B., his Denmark, erroneous, partial, 
 and arising from personal pique.f 
 
 * Adam Anderson was chief derland, and £10.000 each to the 
 
 clerk of tlic Stock and Annuities Duchcssof Kendal and the Countess 
 
 to the South Sea Company. He of Platen, Mr. Gibbon being one of 
 
 wrote an important work, An His- the distributors. 
 torical and Chronological Deduc- f Robert, first Viscount Moles- 
 
 tion of the Origin of Commerce worth (1G56-1725), Envoy Extra- 
 
 from the Earliest Accounts to the ordinary to Court of Denmark, 
 
 Present Time. Died 1765. 1G92, where his conduct gave con- 
 
 The History of England, by M. siderablc offiuce to tlie autiiorities. 
 
 Itapin de Thoyras. Continued by lie sat in the Irish, and suliso- 
 
 N. Timlal, M.A. Vol. iv. pt. ii. quently in tiie English Parliament, 
 
 1747. Pp. 630-649 contain a full and in all liis actions showed a 
 
 account of the proceedings of the strong controversial spirit. His 
 
 Houses of Parliament in the wind- Account of the State of Denmark 
 
 ing-up of the affairs of the South as it icas in the Year 1G92 was 
 
 Sea Company. On January 21, published in 1694. On the meet- 
 
 1720, Mr. Gibbon, along with ing of Parliament at the close of 
 
 several of his co-directors, was, by 1720, tlie House as well as the 
 
 orderof the Committee of the Lords, cf)untry was in a ferment in conwe- 
 
 taken into custody, and his papt^rs (juence of the collapse of the Soutli 
 
 were seized. Among otlier charges, Sea Scheme. Shippen moved an 
 
 it appeared that a fictitious stock, amendment to the address in a 
 
 amounting to £574,000, had been violent .speech, and in seconding 
 
 <li«posed of by the directors to the motion j\Iolesworth used the 
 
 facilitate the passing of the South words quoted. Cf. Memoir A, 
 
 Sea Act in Parliament. Of tlii-s p. 376. 
 £50,000 went to the Earl of Sua-
 
 THE SOUTH-SEA COMPANY. 13 
 
 that ardent Whig, " call aloud for extraordinary remedies. 
 The Koman lawgivers had not foreseen the possible exist- 
 ence of a parricide. But as soon as the first monster 
 appeared, he was sewed in a sack, and cast headlong into 
 the river; and I shall be content to inflict the same 
 treatment on the authors of our present ruin." His 
 motion was not literally adopted; but a bill of pains 
 and penalties was introduced — a retroactive statute to 
 punish the offences which did not exist at the time they 
 were committed. Such a pernicious violation of liberty 
 and law can only be excused by the most imperious 
 necessity ; nor could it be defended on this occasion by 
 the plea of impending danger or useful example. The 
 Legislature restrained the persons of the Directors, im- 
 posed an exorbitant security for their appearance, and 
 marked their characters with a prsevious note of ignominy ; 
 they were compelled to deliver upon oath the strict value 
 of their estates, and were disabled from making any 
 transfer or alienation of any part of their property. 
 Against a bill of pains and penalties it is the common 
 right of every subject to be heard by his counsel at the 
 bar : they prayed to be heard, their prayer was refused, 
 and their oppressors, who required no evidence, would 
 listen to no defence. It had been at first proposed that 
 one eighth of their respective estates should be allowed 
 for the future support of the Directors ; but it was 
 speciously urged, that in the various shades of oj)ulence 
 and guilt, such an equal proportion would be too light 
 for many, and for some might possibly be too heavy. 
 The character and conduct of each man were separately 
 weighed ; but instead of the calm solemnity of a judicial, 
 enquiry, the fortune and honour of three and thirty
 
 14 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoir F. 
 
 Euglislimen were made the topic of hasty conversation, 
 the sport of a lawless majority ; and the basest member 
 of the committee, by a malicious word or a silent vote, 
 might indulge his general spleen, or personal animosity. 
 Injury was aggravated by insult, and insult was em- 
 bittered by pleasantry. Allowances of twenty pounds 
 or one shilling were facetiously moved. A vague report 
 that a Director had formerly been concerned in Miother 
 project, by which some unknown persons had lost their 
 money, was admitted as a proof of his actual guilt. One 
 man was ruined because he had dropt a foolish speech, 
 that his horses should feed upon gold ; another, because 
 he was grown so proud, that, one day at the Treasury, 
 he had refused a civil answer to persons much above 
 him. All were condemned, absent and unheard, in 
 arbitrary fines and forfeitures which swept away the 
 greatest part of their substance. Such bold oppression 
 can scarcely be shielded by the omnipotence of Parlia- 
 ment; and yet it may be seriously questioned whether 
 the Judges of the South-sea Directors were the true and 
 legal representatives of their country. The first Parlia- 
 ment of George the First had been chosen (1715) for three 
 years : the term had elapsed ; their trust was expired ; 
 and the four additional years (1718-1722) during which 
 they continued to sit, were derived, not from the people, 
 but from themselves ; from the strong measure of the 
 septennial bill, which can only be paralleled by il serrar 
 <U Consiglio of the Venetian history. ^^ Yet candour will 
 
 ^' In 1298, 470 annually chosen at Micliaclinas : voted 
 perpetual and hereditary lor all the actual, and of the last 
 years, if they had 12 votes in the Qnarantia — Faimilies 
 broken, new ones added — Stability of Venice — Anielot de 
 la Houssaye snr le Gouv. de Venisc, Tom. i. pp. 3, 4, 6 —
 
 SENTENCE ON EDWAED GIBBON, 15 
 
 own that to the same Parliament every Englishman is 
 deeply indebted : the Septennial Act, so vicious in its 
 origin, has been sanctioned by time, experience, and the 
 national consent ; its first operation secured the house 
 of Hanover on the throne, and its permanent influence 
 maintains the peace and stability of Government. As 
 often as a repeal has been moved in the house of 
 Commons, I have given in its defence a clear and 
 conscientious vote. 
 
 My grandfather could not expect to be treated with 
 more lenity than his companions. His Tory principles 
 and connections rendered him obnoxious to the ruling 
 powers : his name is reported in a suspicious secret ; and 
 his well-known abilities could not plead the excuse of 
 ignorance or error. In the first proceedings against the 
 South-sea Directors, Mr. Gibbon is one of the few who 
 were taken into custody ; and in the final sentence the 
 measure of his fine proclaims him eminently guilty. The 
 total estimate which he delivered on oath to the house of 
 commons amounted to one hundred and six thousand 
 five hundred and forty-three pounds five shillings and 
 sixpence, exclusive of antecedent settlements. Two 
 different allowances of fifteen and of ten thousand 
 pounds were moved for Mr. Gibbon ; but, on the question 
 being put, it was carried without a division for the smaller 
 sum ; Hand as a Philosoj)her I should mention, without 
 a sigh, the irreparable loss of above ninety -six thousand 
 pounds, of which, in a single moment, and by an arbitrary 
 vote, I have been ultimately deprived. The provision 
 
 Supineness of Dand. and Muratori — a Genoese galley more 
 important ? * 
 
 * Sec Appendix, 3, p. 97.
 
 16 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 reserved fur his wife could not be very considerable ; 
 but the valuable gift which he afterwards received from 
 his friend and companion, Mr. Francis Acton, was under- 
 stood in the family to be the restitution of an honourable 
 trust. Against irresistible rapine the use of fraud is 
 almost legitimate; in the dexterous anticipation of a 
 conveyance some fragments of property might escape ; 
 debts of honour will not be annulled by any positive 
 law, and the frequent imposition of oaths had enlarged 
 and fortified the Jacobite conscience.] On these ruins, 
 with the skill and credit of which Parliament had not 
 been able to despoil him, my grandfather, at a mature 
 age, erected the edifice of a new fortune : the labours 
 of sixteen years were amply rewarded, and I have reason 
 to believe that the second Temple was not much inferior 
 to the first. j[A large stock of money was vested 
 in the funds, and in trade, and his warehouses at 
 Cadiz were replenished with naval stores for which 
 he had contracted to supply the Court of Madrid.] 
 But he had realized a very considerable property in 
 Sussex, Hampshire, Buckinghamshire, and the New 
 Kiver Company, and had acquired a spacious house, with 
 gardens and lands at Putney ,^^ in Surrey, where he resided 
 
 16 
 
 Putney— Cits— Mallet.* 
 
 * "Just there, where our good- 
 natured Tlianies is, 
 
 Some tour short miles above St. 
 James's, 
 
 And deigns with silver-stream- 
 ing wave 
 
 Th' abodes of Earth-born Pride 
 to lave ; 
 
 Aloft in air two gods were soaring, 
 
 Wliile Putney cits beneatli lay 
 snoring, 
 
 Plunged deep in dreams of ten 
 per ctitit. 
 
 On sums to their dear Country 
 lent; 
 
 Two gods of no inferior fame, 
 
 Whom ancient wits with rever- 
 ence uiiiiu;. 
 
 Though wiser moderns much dis- 
 parage — 
 
 I mean tlie gods of Love and 
 Marriage." 
 
 — Mallet, Cupid and Hymen; or, 
 TJie Wedding Day.
 
 EDWARD GIBBON, 1707-1770. 17 
 
 in decent hospitality. ^His portraits represent a stern 
 and sensible countenance ; his children trembled in his 
 presence ; tradition informs me that the independent 
 visitors who might have smiled at his anger were awed 
 by his frown ; and as he was the richest, or wisest, or 
 oldest of his neighboiu's, he soon became the oracle and 
 the tyrant of a petty Kingdom. His own wrongs had not 
 reconciled him to the house of Hanover ; his wishes might 
 be expressed in some harmless toasts ; but he was dis- 
 qualified from all public trust ; and in the daily devo- 
 tions of the family the name of the King for whom they 
 prayed was prudently omitted. My grandfather] died 
 at Putney in December, 1736, at the age of seventy, 
 leaving Edward, his only son, and two daughters, Hester 
 and Catherine. 
 
 My father, Edward Gibbon, was born in October, 
 1707 : at the age of thirteen he could scarcely feel that 
 he was disinherited by act of parliament ; and as he 
 advanced towards manhood new prospects of fortune 
 opened on his view. A parent is most attentive to 
 supply in his children the deficiencies of which he is 
 conscious in himself : my grandfather's knowledge was 
 derived from a strong understanding and the experience 
 of the ways of men ; but my father enjoyed the benefits 
 of a liberal education as a scholar and a Gentleman. At 
 Westminster school, and afterwards at Emanuel College 
 in Cambridge, he passed through a regular course of 
 Academical discipline ; and the care of his learning and 
 morals was entrusted to his private Tutor the celebrated 
 Mr. William Law. But the mind of a Saint is above 
 or below the present World, and while the pupil pro- 
 ceeded on his travels the tutor remained at Putney, the 
 
 c
 
 18 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 mucli-honoured friend and sj)iritual director of tlie whole 
 family. My father resided some time at Paris to acquire 
 the fashionable exercises ; and, as his temper was warm 
 and social, he indulged in those jDleasures for which the 
 strictness of his former education had given him a keener 
 relish. He afterwards visited several provinces of France, 
 but his excursions were neither long nor remote, and the 
 slender knowledge which he had gained of the French 
 language was gradually obliterated. His passage through 
 Besanfon is marked by a singular consequence in the 
 chain of human events. In a dangerous illness Mr. 
 Gibbon was attended at his own request by one of his 
 kinsmen of the name of Acton,^'^ the younger brother of a 
 younger brother, who had applied himself to the study of 
 Physic. During the slow recovery of his patient, the 
 Physician himself was attacked by the malady of love : 
 he married his mistress, renounced his country and 
 religion, settled at Besangon, and became the father of 
 three sons, the eldest of whom. General Acton, is con- 
 spicuous in Europe as the principal minister of the King 
 of the two Sicilies. By an uncle, whom another stroke of 
 fortune had transplanted to Leghorn, he was educated in 
 the naval service of the Emperor ; and his valour and 
 conduct in the command of the Tuscan frigates protected 
 the retreat of the Spaniards from Algiers. On my father's 
 return to England, he was chosen, at the general election 
 of 1734, to serve in Parliament for the borougli of Peters- 
 field, a burgage tenure of which my grandfather possessed 
 a weighty share till he alienated, I know not wliy, such 
 important property. Prejudice and society connected 
 
 " Acton I want some memoirs.* 
 * Cf. Memoir A, p. 372 nqq.
 
 MARRIAGE OF GIBBON'S FATHER. 19 
 
 liis son with tlie Tories, or, as they were pleased to style 
 themselves, the Country Gentlemen ; with them he gave 
 many a vote, with them he drank many a bottle. With- 
 out acquiring the fame of an orator or statesman, he 
 eagerly joyned in the great opposition which, after a 
 seven years' chace, hunted down Sir Eobert Walpole, and, 
 in the pursuit of an unpopular Minister, he gratified a 
 private revenge against the oppressor of his family in 
 the South-sea persecution. 
 
 The union to which I owe my birth was a marriage 
 of inclination and esteem. Mr. James Porten, a ]\Ierchant 
 of London, resided with his family at Putney, in a house 
 adjoining to the bridge and Church-yard, where I have 
 passed many happy hours of my childhood. Of his son 
 Stanier, and of a daughter Catherine, who preserved 
 her maiden name, I shall hereafter speak : another 
 daughter married Mr. Darrel, of Eichmond, and her two 
 sons are opulent and worthy ; the youngest and hand- 
 somest of the three sisters was Judith, my mother, fin 
 the society of Putney the two families lived in friendly 
 and frequent intercourse ; the familiar habits of the 
 young people improved into a tender attachment, and 
 their mutual affection, according to the difference of the 
 sexes, was ardently professed and modestly acknowledged. 
 These sentiments were justified by a more perfect know- 
 ledge of each other : my father's constancy was neither 
 chilled by absence nor dissolved by pleasure ; and after 
 his return from his travels and his election into Parlia- 
 ment, he seriously resolved to unite himself for ever 
 with the object of his choice. 
 
 " Notitiam primosque gradus vicinia fecit : 
 Tempore crevit amor, taedse quoque jm'c coissent
 
 20 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 Sed vetuere patres. Quod non potuere vetare, 
 Ex aequo captis ardebaut mentibus ambo." ^* 
 
 Such is the beginning of a love tale at Babylon or at 
 Putney. On the present occasion, however, the oppo- 
 sition of the two fathers was not equally strenuous or 
 sincere. The slender fortunes and dubious credit of Mr. 
 Porten would have been pleased with such an alliance, 
 but he was provoked by a sense of honour to imitate 
 the reluctance of his wealthy and ambitious neighbour. 
 The usual consequences ensued : harsh threats and tender 
 protestations, frowns and sighs ; the seclusion of the 
 Lady, the despair of the Lover, clandestine correspondence 
 and stolen interviews. At the distance of forty years, 
 my aunt, Catherine Porten, could relate with pleasure 
 the innocent artifices which she practised to second or 
 screen her beloved sister ; and I have found among my 
 father's papers many letters of both parties that breathe 
 a spirit of constancy and love. All their acquaintance, 
 the whole neighbourhood of Putney, was favourable to 
 their wishes ; my paternal grandfather yielded a tardy 
 and ungracious consent, and as soon as the marriage 
 ceremony had been performed, the young couple was 
 received into his house on the hard terms of implicit 
 obedience and a precarious maintenance. Yet such were 
 the charms and talents of my mother, with such soft 
 
 ^^ Ovid, Metamorph., iv. 59— happened in the lifetime of 
 Cadmus — told by one of the Miuieides at her work — no con- 
 nection with Greek faldes — source imkuown — No Koman 
 invented — quoted b}' Ilyginus (C. 242. ji. 351, Edit. Var. iu 
 4° Lugd. Bat. 1742) after Ovid.* 
 
 ♦ " Pyrnmiifl in Babylonia ob (lly^hms, Fahuhv, i^tc); but there 
 amoretn TliisbcB ipse se oceidit" ia no reference to Ovid.
 
 HESTER AND CATHEEINE GIBBON. 21 
 
 dexterity did she follow and lead the morose humour 
 of the old Tyrant, that in a few months she became his 
 favourite. Could he have embraced the first child of 
 which she was pregnant at the time of his decease, it 
 is probable that a Will executed in anger would have 
 been cancelled by affection ; and that he would have 
 moderated the shares of his two daughters, Avhom, in 
 resentment to his son, he had enriched beyond the 
 measure of female inheritance. 
 
 Of my two wealthy aunts on the father's side, Hester 
 persevered in a life of celibacy, while Catherine became 
 the wife of Mr. Edward Elliston, a Captain in the service 
 of the East India Company, whom my grandfather styles 
 his nephew in his Will. Both Mr. and Mrs. Elliston were 
 dead before the date of my birth, or at least of my 
 memory, and their only daughter and heiress will be 
 mentioned in her proper place. These two Ladies are 
 described by Mr. Law under the names of Flavia and 
 Miranda, the Pagan and Christian sister. The sins of 
 Flavia, which excluded her from the hope of salvation,* 
 may not appear to our carnal apprehension of so black a 
 dye. Her temper was gay and lively ; she followed the 
 fashion in her dress, and indulged her taste for company 
 and public amusements ; but her expence was regulated 
 by ceconomy :t she practised the decencies of Religion, nor 
 
 * "I sliall not take upon me to chap. vii. of Law's Serious Call. 
 any that it is impossible for Flavia f Her income was £200. " If 
 to be saved : but thus much must she lives ten years longer . . . she 
 be said, that she has no grounds will have spent sixty hundred 
 from Scripture to think she is pounds upon herself, bating only 
 in the way of salvation." The some shillings, crowns, or half- 
 whole description of her character, crowns that liave gone from her 
 which is too long for quotation in accidental charities." — Law's 
 here, occupies the greater part of Serious Call.
 
 22 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [:\Ii:Moni F. 
 
 is she accused of neglecting the essential duties of a wife 
 or a mother. The sanctity of her sister, the original or 
 the copy of Miranda, was indeed of an higher cast. By 
 austere pennance Mrs. Hester Gibbon laboured to attone 
 for the faults of her youth, for the profane vanities into 
 which she had been led or driven by authority and 
 example. But no sooner was she mistress of her own 
 actions and plentiful fortune, than the pious virgin aban- 
 doned for ever the house of a brother, from whom she was 
 alienated by the interest of this World and of the next. 
 With her spiritual guide, and a widow lady of the name 
 of Hutchinson, she retired to a small habitation at Cliffe, 
 in Northamptonshire, where she lived almost half a 
 century, surviving many years the loss of her two friends. 
 It is not my design to enumerate or extenuate the 
 Christian virtues of Miranda as they are described by 
 Mr. Law. Her charity, even in its excess, commands our 
 respect. " Her fortune " (says the historian) " is divided 
 between herself and several other poor people, and she 
 has only her part of relief from it." The sick and lame, 
 young children and aged persons were the first objects of 
 her benevolence ; but she seldom refused to give alms to 
 a common beggar : " and instead " (I resume Mr. Law's 
 words) " of driving him away as a cheat, because she 
 does not know him, she relieves because he is a stranger, 
 and unknown to her. Excepting her victuals, she never 
 spent ten pounds a year upon herself. If you was to see 
 her, you would wonder what poor body it was, that was so 
 surprizingly neat and clean. She cats and drinks only 
 for the sake of living ; and with so regular an abstinence 
 that every meal is an exercise of self denial, and she 
 humbles her body every time that she is forced to feed
 
 MRS. HESTER GIBBON. 
 
 o< 
 
 it." ^^ Her only study was the Bible, with some legends 
 and books of piety which she read with implicit faith : 
 she prayed five times each day ; and as singing, according 
 to the serious Call, is an indispensable part of devotion, 
 she rehearsed the psalms and hymns of thanksgiving 
 which she now, perhaps, may chant in a full chorus of 
 Saints and Angels. Such is the portrait and such was the 
 life of that holy Virgin who by Gods was Miranda called, 
 and by men Mrs. Hester Gibbon. Of the pains and 
 pleasures of a spiritual life I am ill-qualified to speak ; 
 yet I am inclined to believe that her lot, even on earth, 
 has not been unhappy. Her pennance was voluntary, and, 
 in her own eyes, meritorious; her time was filled by 
 regular occupations ; and instead of the insignificance of 
 an old maid, she was surrounded by dependents, poor and 
 abject as they were, who implored her bounty and im- 
 bibed her lessons. In the course of these Memoirs I 
 shall not forget to introduce my personal acquaintance 
 with the Saint. 
 
 At an advanced age, about the year 1761, Mr. Law 
 died in the house, I may not say in the arms, of his 
 beloved Miranda.] In our family he has left the reputa- 
 tion of a worthy and pious man, who believed all that 
 he professed and practised all that he enjoy ned. The 
 character of a Nonjuror, which he maintained to the last, 
 
 ^" Second edition of Serious Call in 1732 — Butterflj' in 
 Caterpillar, pp. 92-189.* 
 
 * These quotations are isolated 
 passages taken from difterent parts 
 of tlie same chapter. 
 
 " If a poor old traveller tells her 
 that he has neither strength, nor 
 food, nor money left, she never bids 
 him go to the place from whence 
 he came, or tells him that she 
 
 cannot relieve him, because he may 
 be a cheat or she does not know 
 him, but she relieves him for that 
 reason, because he is a stranger 
 and unknown to her." — Serious Call, 
 chap. viii. 
 
 For the Butterfly in Caterpillar, 
 sec Memoir A, p. 383.
 
 24 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 is a sufficient evidence of his j)rinciples in Churcli and 
 state, and the sacrifice of interest to conscience will be 
 always respectable. His Theological writings, which our 
 domestic connection has tempted me to peruse, preserve 
 an imperfect sort of life, and I can pronounce with more 
 confidence and knowledge on the merits of the author. 
 His last compositions are darkly tinctured with the 
 incomprehensible visions of Jacob Behmen, and his dis- 
 course on the absolute unlawfullness of stage-entertain- 
 ments ^° is sometimes quoted for a ridiculous intemperance 
 of sentiment and language. " The actors and spectators 
 must all be damned : the play-house is the porch of Hell, 
 the place of the Devil's abode, where he holds his filthy 
 court of evil spirits : a play is the Devil's triumph ; a 
 sacrifice performed to his glory, as much as in the 
 Heathen temples of Bacchus or Venus, etc." But these 
 sallies of Religious phrenzy must not extinguish the praise 
 which is due to Mr. William Law as a wit and a scholar. 
 His argument on topics of less absurdity is specious and 
 acute, his manner is lively, his stylo forcible and clear ; 
 and had not his vigourous mind been clouded by enthu- 
 siasm, he might be ranked with the most agreable and 
 ingenious writers of the times. While the Bangorian 
 
 "^ A small pamplilet in 1726* — scandalized by Apollo and 
 Daphne "f — all sober persons condemned Masqs — Nonj. and 
 Presb. Collier and Prynne — Eousseau, a Phil, less absurd | — 
 Excellent casuist c'est a vous a mo le dire. 
 
 * Tlie Abaolnte Unlawful tie i^g of 
 the Stage Entertainment fully de- 
 monstrated. 
 
 t This was a pantomime, or 
 eutcrtaiiiraent, of which the vocal 
 pai ts appear to have been composed 
 hy Lewis Theobald, and are quoted 
 by Law in his pamphlet. Ajxilln 
 and Daphne was pcribrmtd at 
 
 the Theatre Royal, Lincoln's Inn 
 Fields, in 1726, and at the Covent 
 Garden Thcatie in 1784. 
 
 X I'robably refers to Rousseau's 
 letter to d'Ah mbert on his article 
 Gtneve in the Encyclopedic, and 
 especially on his project for the 
 erection of a theatre for comedy in, 
 that town. Published 1758.
 
 WILLIAM LAW. 25 
 
 controversy ^^ was a fashionable theme, he entered the lists 
 on the subject of Christ's Kingdom and the authority of 
 the Priesthood : ^^ against the plain account of the sacra- 
 ment of the Lord's supper he resumed the combat with 
 Bishop Hoadley,^^ the object of Whig Idolatry and Tory 
 abhorrence ; and at every weapon of attack and defence, 
 the Nonjuror, on the ground which is common to both, 
 approves himself at least equal to the Prelate.^* On the 
 
 '■'' Bang. Con. 1715-20 — Hoadly answered Snape, Hare, 
 Potter, Sherlock (Biog. B., torn, vii.), disdained Law. Dis- 
 dained? — three letters, Irst eighth edition.* 
 
 ^^ By the pen of an angel, says Adams (L A. L., i. c. 17} 
 — I think out of character. 
 
 '^ A Demonstration of the gross and fundamental errors 
 of a late book,t 2d Edit. 1738 — a darker Enthusiast; 
 "the Eeligion of reason the very state of hellish minds" 
 (p. 196). 
 
 ^^ Christian Div. to Whig pol. — j^et Eeligion and liberty 
 — Berkeley much above Hoadley (Warton on Pope, ii. 264) — 
 a Saint to a Priest, a Genius to a Disputant,^ 
 
 * The principal interest of the and Tories, and before the report 
 Bangorian controversy now lies in could be presented to tlie Upper 
 the fact that it was the immediate House, Convocation was prorogued, 
 cause of tlie practical suspension The report, however, drew from 
 of Convocation from 1717 till 1852. Dr. Hoadly a dexterous reply ; and 
 When the minds of Churchmen a prolonged and bitter controversy 
 were in a state of considerable arose, in the course of which over 
 alarm on the accession of George I., a hundred publications appeared, 
 an alien in birth, language, and Dr. Sherlock and William Law were 
 religion, Benjamin Hoadly, Bishop among those who took part in this 
 of Bangor, published his Freser- Bangorian controversy. 
 vative against the Principles and f The late book was A Plain 
 Practices of the Nonjurors in Account of the Nature and End 
 Church and State, in which he of the Sacrament of the Lord's 
 denied the necessity of being in Supper. It gave rise to a wide- 
 communion with any visible Church; spread controversy at the time, 
 and on March 17, 1717, he preached and then, and since, it has always 
 a sermon reiterating this doctrine, been attributed to Bishop Hoadly, 
 and making light of religious tests tliough the authorship was never 
 and ecclesiastical government. A openly avowed by him. Law's 
 committee of the Lower House of reply, called A Demovsf ration of 
 Convocation appointed to consider the Gross and Fundamental Errors 
 these utterances reported stronirly of a Plain Account^ etc., was pub- 
 against them, but the discussion lished in 1737. 
 aroused the partisanship of Whigs % Alciphron, or the Minute Philo-
 
 26 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 appearance of the fable of the Bees he drew his pen 
 against the licentious doctrine that private vices are public 
 benefits, and morality as well as Religion must joyn in 
 his applause. Mr. Law's master-work, the Serious Call, 
 is still read as a popular and powerful book of devotion.^^ 
 His precepts are rigid, but they are founded on the Gospel ; 
 his satire is sharp, but it is drawn from the knowledge of 
 human life ; and many of his portraits are not unworthy 
 of the pen of La Bruyere. If he finds a spark of piety 
 in his reader's mind, he will soon kindle it to a flame ; 
 and a Philosopher must allow that he exposes with equal 
 severity and truth the strange contradiction between the 
 faith and practise of the Christian World, f Hell-fire and 
 
 ^' Dr. Johnson (Life by Bozzy, vol. i. p. 431 [this 
 should be 341 j) styles it " the finest piece of hortatory 
 Theology in any language " — Would not trust Mrs. Thr. 
 with it (Letters, vol. ii. p. 214) — hugged it himself 
 (p. 400).* 
 
 sopher, a Platonic dialogue in 
 defence of the Christian religion 
 against tlie arguments of atheists, 
 sceptics, and fatalists, by Bisliop 
 Berkeley, was published in 1732. 
 Walton writes of it, " Alciphron 
 did, indeed, well deserve to be 
 mentioned on tliis occasion, not- 
 witlistanding it has been treated 
 with contempt by a writer much 
 inferior to Berkley in genius, learn- 
 ing, and taste," and adds the fol- 
 lowing note : "Bisiiop Hoadley (in 
 letters to Lady Sini<ion, vol. i. of 
 his works), but Siieriock thouglit 
 highly of Alcijihron, and prci^ented 
 it to Queen Caroline with many 
 encomiums. Tlie Queen was used 
 to be delighted witli the conver- 
 sation of Berkley, and perimps 
 Hoadley wa>t a little' jealous of sucli 
 a rivnl." — Ekkciij on the Genius and 
 Writiiifis of Pope, ii. 2G4. 
 * From Mrs. Thrale to Dr. John- 
 
 .son. "... I fancy there is no 
 comparison between the scholastic 
 learning of the two writers (Law 
 and Watts) ; but there is pro- 
 digious knowledge of the human 
 heart, and perfect acquaintance 
 witli common life, in the Serious 
 Call. Y(m used to tsay you wouhi 
 not trust me with tliat autlior up- 
 stairs on the dressing-room shelf, 
 yet I now half wish I had never 
 followed any precepts but his." — 
 Letters to and from the Late Samuel 
 John»on,LL.J). I'uhlished from the 
 orvjinal MSS. in her jwfsession hi/ 
 Hester Lynch I'iuzzi. Lond., 178S. 
 Vol. ii. p. 214. 
 
 On p. 400 is a letter from John- 
 son to Miss Boothby, January 8, 
 175G, in which he writes, "I have 
 returncid your Law, which, how- 
 ever, I earnestly entreat you to 
 give me ; " but there is no allusion 
 to '• hugging it to himself."
 
 LAW'S "SERIOUS CALL." 27 
 
 eternal damnation are darted from every page of the 
 book ; and it is, indeed, somewhat whimsical that the 
 Fanatics who most vehemently inculcate the love of God 
 should be those who despoil him of every amiable 
 attribute.]
 
 28 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKArHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I WAS born at Putney in Surry, the twenty-seventh 
 of April. O.S., the eighth of May. N.S., in the year 
 one thousand seven hundred and thirty-seven, within 
 a twelfmonth of my father's marriage with Judith Porten, 
 his first wife. From my birth I have enjoyed the right 
 of Primogeniture ; but I was succeeded by five brothers 
 and one sister, all of whom were snatched awav in their 
 infancy. [^They died so young, and I was myself so 
 young at the time of their deaths, that I could not then 
 feel, nor can I now estimate their loss, the importance 
 of which could only have been ascertained by future 
 contingencies. The shares of fortune to which younger 
 children are reduced by our English laws would have 
 been sufficient, however, to oppress my inheritance ; and 
 the compensation of their friendship must have depended 
 on the uncertain event of character and conduct, on 
 the affinity or opposition of our reciprocal sentiments.] 
 ]\ry five brothers, whose names may be found in the 
 Parish register of Putney, I shall not pretend to lament ; 
 but from my childhood to the present hour I have deeply 
 and sincerely regretted my sister, whose life was some- 
 wliat prolonged, and whom I remember to have seen an 
 amiable infant. The relation of a brother and a sister, 
 especially if they do not marry, appears to me of a very
 
 SPANISH CONTRACTS. 29 
 
 singular nature. It is a familiar and tender friendship 
 with a female, much about our own age ; an affection 
 perhaps softened by the secret influence of sex, but pure 
 from any mixture of sensual desire, the sole species of 
 Platonic love that can be indulged with truth and without 
 danger. 
 
 QAbout four months before the birth of their eldest 
 son my parents were delivered from a state of servitude, 
 and my father inherited a considerable estate, which was 
 magnified in his own eyes by flattery and hope. The 
 prospect of Spanish gold from our naval contract with 
 the Court of Madrid was suddenly overclouded about 
 three years after my grandfather's decease. The public 
 faith had been pledged for the security of the English 
 merchants; their effects were seized (in 1740) on the 
 first hostilities between the two nations. After the 
 return of peace (in 1749 and 1763), the Contractors or 
 their representatives demanded the restitution of their 
 property with a large claim of damages and interest. 
 But the Catholic Kings absolve themselves from the 
 engagements of their predecessors : ^ the helpless strangers 
 were referred by the ministers to the Judges, and from 
 the Judges to the Ministers, and this antiquated debt 
 has melted away in oblivion and despair. Such a stroke 
 could not have been averted by any foresight or care ; 
 but the arts of industry were not devolved from the 
 father to the son, and several undertakings which had 
 been profitable in the hands of the merchant became 
 
 ^ Ferdinand VI. held a consult of Lawyers and Divines — 
 not obliged to pay former debts — same Moral, continued in 
 fact — Nouv. Voy. en Esp., torn. ii. pp. 30, 31.* 
 
 * See Appendix, 4, p. 97.
 
 30 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik F. 
 
 barren or adverse in those of the gentleman.] At the 
 general election of 1741 Mr. Gibbon and Mr. Delme 
 stood an expensive and successful contest against Mr. 
 Dummer and Mr. Henly,* afterwards Lord Chancellor 
 and Earl of Northington. The Whig candidates had a 
 majority of the resident voters ; but the corporation was 
 firm in the Tory interest : a sudden creation of one 
 hundred and seventy new freemen turned the scale ; and 
 a supply was readily obtained of respectable Volunteers 
 who flocked from all parts of England to support the 
 cause of their political friends. The new Parliament 
 opened with the victory of an opposition which was 
 fortified by strong clamour and strange coalitions.^ From 
 the event of the first divisions, Sir Eobert Walpole 
 perceived that he could no longer lead a Majority in the 
 house of Commons, and prudently resigned, after a reign 
 of one and twenty years, the sceptre of the state (1742). 
 But the fall of an unpopular Minister was not succeeded, 
 according to general expectation, by a millennium of 
 happiness and virtue ; some Courtiers lost their places, 
 some patriots lost their characters. Lord Orford's offences 
 vanished with his power, and, after a short vibration, 
 the Pelham government was fixed on the old basis of the 
 Whig Aristocracy. In the year 1745 the throne and 
 the constitution were attacked by a rebellion which does 
 
 2 OfP.ofW.and Jac— Allowance in [17]37— Mr. Gibbon 
 had been spoken to (Doddington's L)iary, p. 444 f) — Was it 
 not Philip Gybbon of liye — a kinsman ? 
 
 * For Southampton. bring a demand in Parliamont for 
 
 t " A narrative of what passed an augmentation of his allowance 
 
 between the I'rince and Mr. Do- to £100,000 per annum and for a 
 
 dington, and afterwards between joiutiiro upon the Princess" (p. 
 
 Sir 11. Walpole and Mr. Dodinprton, 391, ed. 1823). 
 
 upon the resolution of H.ll.H. to
 
 GIBBON'S FATHER AND MOTHER. 31 
 
 not reflect mucli honour on the national spirit, since the 
 English friends of the Pretender wanted courage to joyn 
 his standard, and his enemies (the bulk of the people) 
 allowed him to advance into the heart of the Kingdom.^ 
 Without daring, perhaps without desiring to aid the 
 rebels, my father invariably adhered to the Tory opposi- 
 tion : in the most critical season, he accepted, for the 
 service of the party, the office of Alderman in the city of 
 London ; but the duties were so repugnant to his inclina- 
 tion and habits, that he resigned his Gown at the end 
 of a few months. The second parliament in which he 
 sate * was prsematurely dissolved (1747) : and as he 
 was unable or unwilling to maintain a second contest 
 for Southampton, the life of the Senator expired in that 
 dissolution. 
 
 [[At home my father possessed the inestimable treasure 
 of an amiable and affectionate wife, the constant object 
 during a twelve years' marriage of his tenderness and 
 esteem. My mother's portraits convey some idea of her 
 beauty : the elegance of her manners has been attested 
 by surviving friends ; and my aunt Porten could descant 
 for hours on the talents and virtues of her amiable sister. 
 A domestic life would have been the choice and the 
 felicity of my mother, but she vainly attempted to check 
 with a silken rein the passions of an independent husband. 
 The World was open before him : his spirit was lively, 
 his appearance splendid, his aspect chearful, his address 
 polite; he gracefully moved in the highest circles of 
 
 ^ Wish for Home — From a Witness that he was advised 
 to march to Oxford — Tory Youths — Fathers would be 
 forced. 
 
 * He had been elected for Petersfield in 1734.
 
 22 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 society, and I have heard him boast that he was the 
 only member of Opposition admitted into the old Club 
 at White's, where the first names of the Country were 
 often rejected. Yet such was the pleasing flexibility 
 of his temper, that he could accommodate himself with 
 •ease and almost with indifference to every class — to a 
 meeting of Lords or farmers, of Citizens or Foxhunters ; 
 and without being admired as a Avit, Mr. Gibbon was 
 everywhere beloved as a companion and esteemed as a 
 man. But, in the pursuit of pleasure, his happiness, 
 alas ! and his fortune were gradually injured. CEconomy 
 was superseded by fashion ; his income proved inade- 
 quate to his expence ; his house at Putney, in the 
 neighbourhood of London, acquired the dangerous fame 
 of hospitable entertainment ; against the more dangerous 
 temptation of play he was not invulnerable, and large 
 sums were silently precipitated into that bottomless pit. 
 Few minds have sufficient ressources to support the weight 
 of idleness ; and had he continued to walk in the path 
 of mercantile industry, my father might have been a 
 liappier, and his son would be a richer, man. 
 
 Of tliese public and private scenes, and of the first 
 years of my own life, I must be indebted not to memory, 
 but to information. Our fancy may create and describe 
 a perfect Adam, born iu the mature vigour of his corporeal 
 and intellectual faculties. 
 
 " As new wak'd from Kotindest sleep, 
 Soft on the llow'ry herb I fumul nie laid 
 In balmy sweat, which with his beams the Sun 
 Soon dry'd, and on the reaking moisture fed. 
 Strait toward Ilcav'n my wond'riiig eyes I turned 
 And gaz'd awhile tlic amjile sky, till rais'd 
 By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung
 
 GROWTH OF MAN'S INTELLIGENCE. 33 
 
 As thitherward endevoring, and upright 
 Stood on my feet ; about me round I saw 
 Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains, 
 And liquid lapse of murni'ring streams ; by these 
 Creatures that liv'd and mov'd, and walk'd or flew. 
 Birds on the branches warbling : all things smil'd ; 
 With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflow'd. 
 Myself I then perus'd, and limb by limb 
 Survey'd, and sometimes went and sometimes ran 
 With supple joints, as lively vigor led ; 
 But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 
 Knew not : to speak I try'd and forthwith spake 
 My tongue obe3''d, and readily could name 
 Whate'er I saw." * 
 
 It is thus that the poet has animated his statue : the 
 Theologian must infuse a miraculous gift of science and 
 language, the Philosopher might allow more time for the 
 gradual exercise of his new senses, but all Avould agree 
 that the consciousness and memory of Adam might pro- 
 ceed in a regular series from the moment of his birth. 
 Far different is the origin and progress of human nature, 
 and I may confidently apply to myself tlie common 
 history of the whole species. Decency and ignorance 
 cast a veil over the mystery of generations, but 1 
 may relate that after floating nine months in a 
 liquid element, I was painfully transported into the 
 vital air. (3f a new born infant it cannot be pre- 
 dicated " he thinks, therefore he is ; " it can only be 
 affirmed " he suffers, therefore he feels." But in this 
 imperfect state of existence I was still unconscious of 
 myself and of the universe, my eyes were open without 
 the power of vision, and, according to Mr. de Buffou, the 
 
 * Milton, P. L., viii. 253-273, perfectly original — punc- 
 tuation of fragrance — authority places the comma after 
 
 *' smil'd ' — taste might hesitate. 
 
 D
 
 34 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 rational soul, that secret and incomprehensible energy, 
 did not manifest its presence till after the fortieth d&j.^ 
 During the first year I was below the greatest part of 
 the brute creation, and must inevitably have perished, 
 had I been abandoned to my own care. Three years at 
 least had elapsed before I acquired our peculiar privileges, 
 the facility of erect motion, and the intelligent use of 
 articulate and discriminating sounds. Slow is the growth 
 of the body : that of the mind is still slower : at the 
 age of seven years I had not attained to one half of 
 the strength and proportions of manhood ; and could the 
 mental powers be measured with [the] same accuracy, their 
 deficiency would be found far more considerable. The 
 exercise of the understanding combines the past with the 
 present ; but the youthful fibres are so tender, the cells 
 are so minute, that the first impressions are obliterated 
 by new images ; and I strive without much success to 
 recollect the persons and objects which might appear at 
 the time most forcibly to affect me. The local scenery 
 of my education is, however, before my eyes : my father's 
 contest for Southampton when I must have been between 
 three and four years old, and my childish revenge in 
 shouting, after being whijrt, the names of his oppo- 
 nents, is the first event that I seem to remember ; but 
 
 ■' See Bnifon, Hist. Nat., torn, ii., iii., suppl. iv.*— more 
 ])hil()8. as poet as Milton, turn. ii. pp. 364-370 — progress of 
 vision from Cheselden's experience, see Ikrkely.f 
 
 * See Appendix, 5, p. 07. a facsimile of the title-page of the 
 
 t Berkeley's Theory of Vixion 1783 edition. At p. 127 reference 
 
 vindicated and explained first la made to a case in which Dr. 
 
 appeared in The Daily Font Boy oi Clieseldeu couched a boy of thirteen 
 
 September 9, ll'A'l, and was j)iib- or fourteen. The patient, on seeing 
 
 lished in a 81'purate fdini the follow- for the first time, was unable to 
 
 ing your. This is not in the Brit. judge tlie distance of objects, but 
 
 Mus., but a reprint in 181JU gives thought they were all close to him.
 
 FEEBLE HEALTH IN INFANCY. 35 
 
 even that belief may be illusive, and I may only repeat 
 the hearsay of a riper season. In the entire period of ten 
 or twelve years from our birth, our pains and pleasures, 
 our actions and designs, are remotely connected with our 
 present mode of existence ; and, according to a just com- 
 putation, we should begin to reckon our life from the 
 age of puberty.*] 
 
 The death of a new-born child before that of its 
 parents may seem an unnatural, but it is strictly a pro- 
 bable event ; since of any given number, the greater part 
 are extinguished before their ninth year, before they 
 possess the faculties of the mind or body. Without 
 accusing the profuse waste or imperfect workmanship of 
 Nature, I shall only observe that this unfavourable chance 
 was multiplied against my infant existence. So feeble 
 was my constitution, so precarious my life, that in the 
 baptism of each of my brothers, my father's prudence 
 successively repeated my Christian name of Edward, that 
 in case of the departure of the eldest son, this patronymic 
 appellation might be still perpetuated in the family. 
 
 " Uno avulso non deficit alter." 
 
 To preserve and to rear so frail a being, the most 
 tender assiduity was scarcely sufficient, and my mother's 
 attention was somewhat diverted by her frequent preg- 
 nancies, by an exclusive passion for her husband, and by 
 the dissipation of the World, in which his taste and 
 
 * "Tant pour I'esprit que pour oil les organes ayant acquis tout 
 
 lo corps, rent'ant n'est rien ou n'est leur developpement, le sentiment 
 
 que peu de chose jusqu'a I'age de s'epanouit comme uue belle fleur, 
 
 puberte'; raais cet age est I'aurore qui bieiitot doit produire le fruit 
 
 de nos premiers beaux jours, c'est le pre'cieux de la raison." — Buffon, 
 
 moment oil toutes les faculte's, tant Hist. Nat. Suppl^meyif, tome iv. p. 
 
 corpoielles qu'intellectuelles, com- 384 (1777). 
 mencent a entrer en plein exercise ;
 
 36 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 authority obliged her to mingle. But the maternal 
 office was supjilied by my aunt, Mrs. Catherine Porten, 
 at whose name I feel a tear of gratitude trickling down 
 my cheek. A life of celibacy transferred her vacant 
 affection to her sister's first child ; my weakness excited 
 her pity ; her attachment was fortified by labour and 
 success, and if there are any, as I trust there are some, 
 who rejoyce that I live, to that dear and excellent woman 
 they must hold themselves indebted. Many anxious and 
 solitary days did she consume in the patient tryal of 
 every mode of relief and amusement. Many wakeful 
 nights did she sit by my bedside in trembling expecta- 
 tion that each hour would be my last, ^^ij poor aunt has 
 often told me, with tears in her eyes, how I was nearly 
 starved by a nurse that had lost her milk : how long she 
 herself was apprehensive lest my crazy frame, which is 
 now of common shape, should remain for ever crooked 
 and deformed. From one dangerous malady, the small- 
 pox, I was indeed rescued by the practise of inoculation, 
 which had been recently introduced into England,^ and 
 was still opposed by medical. Religious, and even political 
 prejudice. But it is only against the smallpox that a 
 preservative has been found : I was successively afflicted 
 by lethargies and feavers; by opposite tendencies to a 
 consumptive and a dropsical habit ; by a contraction of 
 
 •= First by Lady M. W. M. from C. V.* in 1722— Prince 
 of Wales' post — Q. Caroline — declined, revived about 1740 
 from America — Kirkpatrick apud Maty, J. B., torn. xiii. 
 pp. 386-391 t— See vol. xiii. pp. 73-77, first in 1727 in Lettres 
 8ur les Anglois — loose and lively — Turks never — fate. 
 
 * 
 
 C. P. probably intended for the pructice, in 1717. 
 CoriBtantiiiople, but it was at f See Appendix, 6, p. 98. 
 
 Adriiinople that she first met with
 
 EAELY ILLNESSES. 37 
 
 my nerves, a fistula in my eye, and the bite of a clog 
 most vehemently suspected of madness : and in the list 
 of my sufferings from my birth to the age of puberty 
 few physical ills would be omitted. From Sir Hans 
 Sloane and Dr. Mead, to Ward and the Chevalier Taylor,* 
 every practitioner was called to my aid ; the fees of 
 Doctors were swelled by the bills of Apothecaries and 
 Surgeons : there was a time when I swallowed more 
 Physic than food ; and my body is still marked with 
 tlie indelible scars of lancets, issues, and caustics.] Of 
 the various and frequent disorders of my childhood my 
 own recollection is dark ; nor do I wish to expatiate 
 on so disgusting a topic. I will not follow the vain 
 example of Cardinal Quirini,'^ who has filled half a volume 
 of his memoirs with medical consultations on his par- 
 ticular case ; nor shall I imitate the naked frankness of 
 Montague, who exposes all the symptoms of his malady, 
 and the operation of each dose of physic on his nerves 
 and bowels.^ It may not, however, be useless to observe 
 that in this early period the care of my mind was too 
 frequently neglected for that of my health : compassion 
 always suggested an excuse for the indulgence of the 
 master, or the idleness of the pupil ; and the chain of 
 
 '^ Appendix ad L. 1. Part ii. Comment de Eebus Card. A. 
 M. Quirini. Brixise, 1750, ad calcem Tom. ii. pp. 145 — Some 
 Italian — many German — one Paris — no Dutch or English — 
 Yet Boerhave. 
 
 " Not in Essais, but in Voyage en Italie, etc , performed 
 in 1580-1, found in the old castle, printed in 1774 — Paris in 
 4to with a very good preface — body rather than soul of 
 Montagne.f 
 
 * For an interesting note on par Michel de Montaigne (1774), 
 
 these persona, see ^otes antZ Q«erte«, vol. iii. p. 261. Tlie author enters 
 
 Feb. 2, 1889. into the fullest possible details of 
 
 t Journal d'un Voyage en Italie, his maladies and symptoms.
 
 38 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu F. 
 
 my education was broken ds often as I was recalled 
 from the school of learnins' to the bed of sickness. 
 
 As soon as the use of speech had prepared my infant 
 reason for the admission of knowledge, I was taught the 
 arts of reading, writing, and vulgar Arithmetic. So remote 
 is the date, so vague is the memory of their origin in 
 myself, that were not the error corrected by Analogy I 
 should be tempted to conceive them as innate. ^In the 
 improved state of society in which I have the good 
 fortune to exist, these attainments are so generally dif- 
 fused that they no longer constitute the liberal distinc- 
 tions of Scholars and Gentlemen. The operations of 
 writing and reading must seem, on an abstract view, to 
 require the labour of Genius; to transform articulate sounds 
 into visible signs by the swift and almost spontaneous 
 motion of the hand ; to render visible signs into articulate 
 sounds by the voluntary and rapid utterance of the voice. 
 Yet experience has proved that these operations of such 
 apparent difficulty, when they are taught to all may be 
 learned by all, and that the meanest capacity in the most 
 tender age is not inadequate to the task.^ Between the 
 sister arts there exists, however, a material difference, the 
 one is connected with mental intelligence, the other with 
 manual dexterity. The excellence of reading, if the 
 vocal organ be not defective, the propriety of the cadence, 
 the tones and the pauses, is always in just proportion to 
 the knowledge, taste, and feelings of the reader. But an 
 illiterate scribe may delineate a correct and elegant copy 
 
 " Yet reading art, assurance practise — some authors very 
 good or bad— d'Alcmbert * — Ilatsell. 
 
 * This rofurs to the Eloge des iii. p. 24. Tlie whole essay bears 
 Acad^iiiiciens ; cLWorkaoi d'\h-m- on the subject, but 1 can find no 
 hurt. 18 vols. I'aris, 1805. Vol. passage especially applicable.
 
 MR. JOHN KIRKBY. 39 
 
 of penmanship ; while the sense and style of the Philo- 
 sopher or poet are most awkwardly scrawled in such 
 ill-formed and irregular characters that the authors 
 themselves, after a short interval, will be incapable of 
 decyphering them.^'' My own writing is of a middle cast, 
 legible rather than fair ; but I may observe that age and 
 long practise, which are often productive of negligence, 
 have rather improved than corrupted my hand. The 
 science of numbers, the third element of our primitive 
 education, may be esteemed the best scale to measure the 
 degrees of the human understanding ; a child or a peasant 
 performs with ease and assurance the four first rules of 
 arithmetic; the profound mysteries of Algebra are re- 
 served for the disciples of Newton and Bernouilli.] In 
 my childhood I was praised for the readiness with which 
 I could multiply and divide by memory alone two sums 
 of several figures ; such praise encouraged my growing 
 talent, and had I persevered in this line of application, 
 I might have acquired some fame in Mathematical 
 studies. 
 
 After this j^rtcvious institution at home, or at a 
 day-school at Putney, I was delivered, at the age of 
 seven (April, 1744), into the hands of Mr. John Kirkby, 
 who exercised about eighteen months the office of 
 my domestic Tutor. His own words, which I shall 
 
 ^•^ English better than foreigners, present age than last — 
 Compare reformers, etc., in Jortin's Erasmus with our round 
 Robin in Boswell.* 
 
 * In Jolin Jortin's Life of Eras- Bucer, Timstal, and Wolsey. 
 
 mus, 1758, there are two plates of The facsimile of the well-known 
 
 specimens of handwriting. Plate I. Eound Robin about Johnson's epi- 
 
 (p. 629) contains those of Erasmus, taph for the monument of Oliver 
 
 Melancthon, Luther, and Q5colam- Goldsmith will be found in Croker's 
 
 padius ; Plate II. (p. 630),Bullinger, edition of Boswell's Jolmson.
 
 40 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 liere transcribe, inspire in liis favour a sentiment 
 of pity and esteem. " During my abode in my native 
 County of Cumberland, in quality of an indigent Curate, 
 I used now and then in a summer, when the pleasant- 
 ness of the season invited, to take a solitary walk to the 
 sea-shore, which lies about two miles from the town where 
 I lived. Here I would amuse myself one while in view- 
 ing at large the agreable prospect which surrounded 
 me ; and another while (confining my sight to nearer 
 objects), in admiring the vast variety of beautiful shells 
 thrown upon the beach, some of the choicest of which 
 I always picked up to divert my little-ones upon my 
 return. One time among the rest, taking such a journey 
 in my head, I sat down upon the declivity of the beach, 
 with my face to the sea, which was now come up within 
 a few yards of my feet, when immediately the sad 
 thoughts of the wretched condition of my family, and 
 the unsuccessfulness of all endeavours to amend it, came 
 crouding into my mind, which drove me into a deep 
 melancholy, and ever and anon forced tears from my 
 eyes." Distress at last forced him to leave the country ; 
 his learning and virtue introduced him to my father, 
 and at Putney he might have found at least a temporary 
 shelter, had not an act of indiscretion again driven him 
 into the World. One day reading prayers in the parish 
 Church, he most unluckily forgot the name of King 
 George ; his patron, a loyal subject, dismissed him with 
 some reluctance and a decent reward ; and lioiv the poor 
 man ended his days I have never [been] able to learn.* 
 
 * John Kirkby, born 1705, died liahed by bim the same year, A 
 
 ISIay 21, 1751. In 1743 he wiis DevionstrationfromChrigtian Prin- 
 
 Hppniiited Rector of Blackinanstone, ciples that the Present Regulation 
 
 liomney Marsh, but a work pub- of Ecclesiastical Revenues in the
 
 THE LIFE OF AUTOMATHES. 41 
 
 Mv. John Kirkby is the author of two small Volumes, 
 the Life of Automathes (London, 1745), and an English 
 and Latin Grammar (London, 1746), which as a 
 testimony of gratitude he dedicated (November 5, 1745) 
 to my father. The books are before me : from them 
 the pupil may judge the praeceptor, and, upon the whole, 
 the judgement will not be unfavourable. The Grammar 
 is executed with accuracv and skill, and I know not 
 whether any better existed at the time in our language ; 
 but the Life of Automathes aspires to the honours 
 of a Philosophical fiction. It is the story of a youth, 
 the son of a shipwrecked exile, who lives alone on a 
 desert island from infancy to the age of manhood. A 
 Hind is his nurse ; he inherits a cottage with many 
 useful and curious instruments. Some ideas remain of 
 the education of his two first years ; some arts are 
 Ijorrowed from the beavers of a neighbouring lake ; some 
 truths are revealed in supernatural visions. With these 
 helps and his own industry Automathes becomes a self- 
 taught though speechless philosopher, who had investi- 
 gated with success his own mind, the Natural World, the 
 abstract sciences, and the great principles of morality and 
 Religion. The author is not entitled to the merit of inven- 
 tion, since he has blended the English story of Eobinson 
 (Jrusoe with the Arabian romance of Hai Ebn Yokhdan, 
 which he might read in the Latin version of Pocock.^^ 
 
 " Defoe accused, yet 1 Al. Selkirk returned with the 
 Brit, priv., Oct 1, 1711— accounts of Wood, Rogers, and 
 
 Church of England is Contrary to Gibbon, as a means of maintaining 
 
 the Design of Christianity, ia said himself. Readers of Sir W. Scott's 
 
 to have destroyed his chance of Life will remember that ^wfomaf/teg 
 
 preferment, and to have reduced was one of the favourites of his 
 
 him to accept the post of tutor to boyish days.
 
 42 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [IMemoiu F. 
 
 In the Aiitomathes ^^ I cannot praise either the 
 depth of thought or elegance of style, but the book is 
 not devoid of entertainment or instruction, and, among 
 several interesting passages, I would select the discovery 
 of fire, which produces by accidental mischief the dis- 
 covery of conscience. A man Avho had thought so much 
 
 Cooke soon published — substance in Campbell's, vol. i. pp. ISO- 
 IS? — Eobinson Crusoe in 1719, public! Juris.* A. S. an 
 hunter — agility, loss of language — R. C. a shepherd, husband- 
 man, etc., small resemblance — Two Vol. may be reduced to 
 150 pages, leave out Voyages, Cannibals, Spaniards, Re- 
 ligion, etc., those original, man, arts, society, accuracy of 
 fiction too much praised — such an isle would have been a 
 swamp and wilderness — reptiles, mosquitoes, Vines, Sugar 
 canes, goats indigenous in S. A. — Alas ! His Cavalier could 
 not deceive Mr. Harte f — Prince Maurice alive in 1635:;: 
 (Mem., Vol. ii. jx 62). 
 
 ^- Phil. Autodidactus, sive Epistola Abu Jaafir Ebn To- 
 phail de Hai Ebn Yokdhan. Edw. Pocock the doctor's son, 
 Oxon. 1709, 2ude Edit., B. B. Pocock (T.T.), Le Clerc, B. C.,§ 
 pp. 76-98 — master of Averroes who died 1198 — Mahometan 
 m^-stics— Abu Jaafir ti'anslated into Englisli by the Quakers 
 — Simon Ockley (1711 in 8") opposed them with new version 
 and appendix. II 
 
 account of the voyage of Captain 
 WooJes Rogers, etc. ; on pp. 155- 
 157, of Alexander Selkirk. 
 
 Robinson Crusoe was first pub- 
 lished on April L'5, 1719. 
 
 t See Appendix, 7, p. 98. 
 
 j "I came to the H:igue the 
 8th of March, l(jH.5, having spent 
 tlirce years and a half in Germany, 
 and the greatest part of it in the 
 Swedish army. I spent some time 
 in Holland. . . . Tliero I had the 
 ojjportunity of seeing the Dutch 
 army and their famous general, 
 l'rinc(! IMaurice." — Memoirs of a 
 Cavalier. Manri"e of Nassau, 
 second son of William the Silent, 
 (lio(l at the Hague in April, 1G25. 
 
 § I havn examiniMl the twenty- 
 cigiit volumes uf the llihliotheque 
 Choisie, but cannot find tliis refer- 
 ence. Cf. Memoir E, p. 2:j6. 
 
 II See Appendix, 8, p. 91). 
 
 * A Cruising Voymje round the 
 Worl'i, ... by Captain Woodes 
 Eogers. 8vo. London : A. Bell 
 and B. Lintot. 1712. On pp. 
 124-131 is an account of Alex. 
 Selkirk. 
 
 A Voyage to the So7iih Sea and 
 round the World, perform' d in the 
 years 1708, 1709, 1710, and 1711, 
 ... by Captain Edward Cooke. 2 
 vols., 8vo. London : B. Lintot and 
 R. Gosling. 1712. In cluij)ter x., 
 l)p. 105-119, is a description of tlic 
 island of .Juan Fernandez, but 
 there is no mention of Selkirk. 
 
 Kacicjantiinn atque Itincrantium 
 Bibliothec.a, or a Complete Collec- 
 tion of Voyages and Travels, . . . 
 by .John Harris. Now carefully 
 revised and continued donin to the 
 •present time [by John Campbell]. 
 2 vols., folio. London : 1744. In 
 Bection xvi., pp. l.")0-181, is an
 
 AT DR. WOODDESDON'S SCHOOL. 
 
 43 
 
 on the subjects of language and education was surely 
 no ordinary prsecej^tor ; my childish years and his hasty 
 departure prevented me from enjoying the full benefit 
 of his lessons, but they enlarged my knowledge of 
 Arithmetic and left a clear impression of the English 
 and Latin Rudiments. 
 
 In my ninth year (January, 1746), in a lucid interval 
 of comparative health, my father adopted the convenient 
 and customary mode of English education ; and I was 
 sent to Kingston-upon-Thames, to a school of about 
 seventy boys, which was kept by Dr. Woodson * and his 
 assistants. Every time I have since passed over Putney 
 common I have always noticed the spot where my mother, 
 as we drove along in the coach, admonished me that I 
 was now going into the World, and [had] much [to] learn 
 to think and act for myself. The expression may appear 
 ludicrous ; yet there is not, in the course of life, a more 
 remarkable change than the removal of a child from the 
 luxury and freedom of a wealthy house to the frugal diet 
 and strict subordination of a school ; from the tenderness 
 of parents and the obsequiousness of servants to the 
 rude familiarity of his equals, the insont tyranny of his 
 seniors, and the rod, perhaps, of a cruel and capricious 
 psedagogue. Such hardshi^js may steel the mind and body 
 against the injuries of fortune ; but my timid reserve was 
 
 * Eichard Wooddesdon (1704- 
 1 774) was a clerk, and subsequently 
 chaplain at Magdalen College, 
 Oxford. He was probably usher 
 to Mr. Hilay at Reading, and be- 
 tween 1732 and 1738 was appointed 
 master of the Free School at Kings- 
 ton-on-Thames, a post which lie 
 lield till 1772. Among his pupils 
 were Stevens, the editor of Shake- 
 speare, and Hayley the poet. He 
 
 was a man of very amiable cha- 
 racter ; and an account of him, 
 in the Memoirs of the Lifa of 
 Gilbert Walcefield, i. 41, gives 
 several interesting examples of the 
 esteem and affection entertained 
 towards him. — Bloxiim's Magdalen 
 Cullerje Register, i. 130 (1853). It 
 may have been owing to Dr. Wood- 
 desdun's influence that Gibbon was 
 sent to Magdalen College.
 
 44 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 astonished by the crowd and tumult of the school; the 
 want of strength and activity disqualified me for the sports 
 of the play-field ; nor have I forgot how often, in the year 
 forty -six, I was reviled and buffeted for the sins of my 
 Tory ancestors. By the common methods of discipline, at 
 the expence of many tears and some blood, I purchased the 
 knowledge of the Latin syntax ; and not long since I was 
 possessed of the dirty volumes of Pha3drus and Cornelius 
 Nepos, which I painfully construed and darkly under- 
 stood. The choice of these authors is not injudicious. 
 The Lives of Cornelius Nepos, the friend of Atticus and 
 Cicero, are composed in the style of the purest age ; his 
 simplicity is elegant, his brevity copious ; he exhibits a 
 series of men and manners ; and with such illustrations 
 as every pedant is not indeed qualified to give, this Classic 
 biographer may initiate a young Student in the history 
 of Greece and Eome. The use of fables or apologues 
 has been approved in every age, from ancient India to 
 modern Europe; they convey in familiar images the 
 truths of morality and prudence, and the most childish 
 understanding (I advert to the scruples of Eousseau^^) will 
 not suppose either that beasts do speak, or that men may 
 lye. A fable represents the genuine characters of animals, 
 and a skillful master might extract from Pliny and 
 Buffon some pleasing lessons of Natural history, a science 
 well adapted to the taste and capacity of children. The 
 Latinity of Phredrus is not exempt from an alloy of 
 the Silver age ; but liis manner is concise, terse, and 
 
 '•' Oeiivres de Rousseau, Tom. iv. pj). 157-165; Emile 1. 
 ii. — children do, and do not understand.* 
 
 * See Appcudix, 9, p. 99.
 
 DEATH OF MES. GIBBON. 45 
 
 sententious ; ^* the Thracian slave discreetly breathes the 
 spirit of a freeman, and when the text is sound, the style 
 is perspicuous. But his fables, after a long oblivion, were 
 first published by Peter Pithou,^^ from a corrupt manu- 
 script : the labours of fifty Editors confess the defects of 
 the copy, as well as the value of the original; and a 
 schoolboy may have been whij)t for misapprehending 
 a passage which Bentley could not restore, and which 
 Burman could not explain. 
 
 My studies were too frequently interrupted by sick- 
 ness ; and after a real or nominal residence at Kingston 
 school of near two years, I was finally recalled (December, 
 1747) by my mother's death, which was occasioned, in 
 her thirty-eighth year, by the consequences of her last 
 labour. |[As I had seldom enjoyed the smiles of 
 maternal tenderness she was rather the object of my 
 respect than of my love : some natural tears were soon 
 wiped.] I was too young to feel the importance of my 
 loss, and the image of her person and conversation is 
 faintly imprinted in my memory. The affectionate heart 
 of my aunt, Catherine Porten, bewailed a sister and a 
 friend, but my poor father \^■as inconsolable ; and the 
 transport of grief seemed to threaten his life or his 
 
 " See Fabricius, B. L.,* Tom. ii. pp. 24-35, edit. Ernest 
 — Consult prefaces — Burmau's quarto. 
 
 ^^ Pithaius, a scholar, sage, friend in Thuanus, 1. oxvii., in 
 Tom. V. pp. 643, 644— Chant du Cygne, published Phadrus 
 and died in 1596.t 
 
 '" Prevot's Marquis — Selima — English translation read 
 and compared at the time. J 
 
 * BiUiutheca Latina, by Johann tion of the various editions of the 
 
 Albert Fabricius (1668-1736). New Fables of Phsedrue. 
 
 edition, edited by Ernesti. Leipsic. t ^ee Appendix, 10, p. 100. 
 
 3 vols. 1773-4. The whole of J Cf. Memoir A, p. 378. 
 chap. iii. is devoted to a considera-
 
 46 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 reason. I can never forget the scene of our first inter- 
 view, some weeks after the fatal event ; the awful silence, 
 the room hung with black, the midday tapers, his sighs 
 and tears, his praises of my mother, a saint in heaven, his 
 solemn adjuration that I would cherish her memory and 
 imitate her virtues ; and the fervour with which he kissed 
 and blessed me as the sole surviving pledge of their 
 loves. The storm of passion insensibly subsided into 
 calmer melancholy : [|but he persevered in the use of 
 mourning much beyond the term which has been fixed 
 by decency and custom. Three years after my mother's 
 death, his situation is described by Mr. Mallet,^'' who 
 then resided at Putney, and with whose family my 
 father had formed a verv intimate connection. In a 
 pleasing little composition entitled the Wedding-day, 
 Cupid and Hymen undertake the office of inviting 
 some chosen friends to celebrate the ninth anniversary 
 (October 2, 1750) of the poet's nuptials. Cupid flies 
 eastward to London. 
 
 " His brother too, with sober cheer, 
 For the same end did westward steer ; 
 But first a pensive love forlorn, 
 Who three long weeping j-cars has borne 
 His torch revers'd, and all around, 
 Where once it flam'd with cypress bound, 
 Sent off to call a neighbouring friend. 
 On whom the mournful train attend ; 
 And bid him, this one day at least, 
 For such a pair, at such a feast. 
 Strip off the sable vest, and wear 
 His once gay look and happier air."] 
 
 At a convivial meeting of \\h friends jMr. Gibbon 
 »'' Mallet, Works in Poets, vol. liii. pp. 184-191.* 
 
 * Cttpiil (ind llijinen: or. 'Flic WciJdiny Day.
 
 REMOVAL TO BURITON. 
 
 ir 
 
 might affect or enjoy a gleam of cliearfulness ; but his 
 plan of happiness was for ever destroyed, and after the 
 loss of his companion he was left alone in a world of 
 which the business and pleasure were to him irksome 
 or insipid. After some unsuccessful tryals he renounced 
 the tumult of London and the hospitality of Putney, and 
 buried himself in the rural or rather rustic solitude of 
 Buriton from which during several years he seldom 
 emerged. [|It must not, however, be dissembled that 
 the sorrowful widower was urged to this resolution by 
 the growing perplexity of his affairs. His fortune was 
 impaired ; his debts had multiplied, and as long as his 
 son was a minor, he could not disengage his estate from 
 the legal fetters of an entail. Had my mother lived, 
 he must soon have retired into the country, with more 
 comfort indeed, but without the credit of a pious and 
 disinterested motive. Shall I presume to add that a 
 secret inconstancy, which always adhered to his dis- 
 position, might impell him at once to sink the man of 
 fashion in the character and occupations of a Hampshire 
 farmer ? ^^] 
 
 As far back as I can remember, the house, near 
 Putney bridge and churchyard, of my maternal grand- 
 father appears in the light of my proper and native 
 
 " Flatus in Law, pp. 189-195, mem,* 
 
 * " Flatu8 18 ricli and in health, 
 yet always uneasy and always 
 searching after happiness. Every 
 time you visit him you find some 
 new project iu his head ; he is ea,2;er 
 upon it, as something that is more 
 worth his while, and will do more 
 for him than anything tliat is 
 already past. Every new thing so 
 
 seizes him, that if you was to take 
 liim from it, he would think him- 
 self quite undone. His sanguine 
 temper, and strong passions, pro- 
 mise him so much happiness iu 
 everything, that he is always 
 cheated, and is satisfied with 
 nothing." — Serious Call, chap. sii.
 
 48 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 home. It was there that I was allowed to spend the 
 greatest part of my time, in sickness or in health, during 
 my school-vacations and my parents' residence in London, 
 and finally after my mother's death. Three months after 
 that event, in the spring of 1748, the commercial ruin 
 of her father, Mr. James Porten, was accomplished and 
 declared : he suddenly absconded : but as his effects 
 were not sold, nor the house evacuated till the Christmas 
 following, I enjoyed during the whole year the society 
 of my aunt without much consciousness of her impending 
 fate. I feel a melancholy pleasure in commemorating 
 my obligations to that excellent woman, Mrs. Catherine 
 Porten, the true mother of my mind as well as of my 
 health. Her natural good sense was improved by the 
 perusal of the best books in the English language ; and 
 if her reason was sometimes clouded by prejudice, her 
 sentiments were never disguised by hypocrisy or affecta- 
 tion. Her indulgent tenderness, the frankness of her 
 temper, and my innate rising curiosity soon removed all 
 distance between us : like friends of an equal age, we 
 freely conversed on every topic, familiar or abstruse : 
 and it was her delight and reward to observe the first 
 shoots of my young ideas. Pain and languor were often 
 soothed by the voice of instruction and amusement ; and 
 to her kind lessons I ascribe my early and invincible 
 love of reading, which I would not exchange for the 
 treasures of India. I should perhaps be astonished were 
 it possible to ascertain the date at which a favourite tale 
 was engraved by frequent re])etition in my memory ; the 
 <;avern of the winds, the palace of Felicity, and the 
 fatal moment, at the end of three months or centuries, 
 when Prince Adolphus is overtaked by Time, who had
 
 EARLY READING. 
 
 49 
 
 worn out so many pair of wings in the pnrsuit.^^ Before 
 I left Kingston school, I was well acquainted with Pope's 
 Homer and the Arabian Nights-entertainments,^*' two 
 books which will always jjlease by the moving picture of 
 human manners and specious miracles. The verses of Pope 
 accustomed my ear to the sound of poetic harmony ; in the 
 death of Hector and the shipwreck of Ulysses I tasted the 
 new emotions of terror and pity, and seriously disputed 
 with my aunt on the vices and virtues of the Heroes of 
 the Trojan War. From Pope's Homer to Dryden's Virgil 
 was an easy transition ; but I know not how, from some 
 fault in the author, the translator, or the reader, the pious 
 iEneas did not so forcibly seize on my imagination, and 
 I derived more pleasure from Ovid's Metamorphoses, 
 especially in the fall of Phaethon, and the speeches of 
 
 19 
 
 An Episode in Hipp[olytus] of Douglas, I believe by 
 the Countess d'Anois — foolish novel of love and honour.* 
 
 -" Galland's merit : he chose the best, four Vol. lately in 
 French, much below, except the Maugreby — he found the 
 medium between Arab-tongue and French-ear proved by 
 Kichardson (in Arab Grammar) — litteral Version of the best 
 tale the Spec's glass-merchant Gazette new translator inge- 
 nious and loose : we lose half the pleasure, t 
 
 * Hidoire d'Hypolite, Comte de 
 Duglas, par M""' Catherine La 
 Mothe, Comtesse d'Aulnoy. 1699. 
 
 t Antoine Galland (1646-1715), 
 Oriental scholar and numismatist, 
 was a man who attained celebrity 
 by dint of extraordinary energy 
 and perseverance in the face of 
 j^reat obstacles. He was the iirst 
 to introduce the Arabian Tales, 
 known as the Thousand and One 
 Nights, to European readers. His 
 Mille et une Nuits, Contes Arabes 
 traduits en fran^ais, appeared 
 in Paris 1701-1708, in 12 vols., 
 12mo. 
 
 Jacques Cazotte. born 1720, was 
 murdered during the Revolution, on 
 
 September 25, 1792. His career 
 was a very remarkable one ; but 
 for the purposes of the present 
 note it is sufficient to record that, 
 in conjunction with an Arab monk, 
 Dom Chavis, he produced a collec- 
 tion of Arabian tales, which formed 
 a continuation of the Thousand and 
 One Nights, and is contained in 
 vols, xxxvii.-si. of the Gahinet des 
 F^es. Dom Chavis, who had but 
 an imperfect knowledge of Euro- 
 pean languages, in most cases gave 
 the outline of the stories to Cazotte, 
 who rendered them into French. 
 Maufjrabi, however, is said to be 
 entirely Cazotte's own composition. 
 
 E
 
 50 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 Ajax and Ulysses. 3[y grandfather's flight unlocked the 
 door of a tolerable library, and I turned over many 
 English pages of Poetry and romance, of history and 
 travels. Where a title attracted my eye, without fear 
 or awe I snatched the volume from the shelf, and Mrs. 
 Porten, who indulged herself in moral and religious 
 speculation, was more prone to encourage than to check 
 a curiosity above the strength of a boy. This year 1748, 
 the twelfth of my age, I shall note as the most propitious 
 to the growth of my intellectual stature. 
 
 [[After such satisfaction as could be given to his 
 creditors,] the relicks of my grandfather's fortune 
 afforded a bare annuity for his own maintenance ; 
 and his daughter, my worthy aunt, who had already 
 passed her fortieth year, was left naked and desti- 
 tute. [Her not more wealthy relations were not ah- 
 solutelij without bowels ; but] her noble spirit scorned 
 a life of ■ obligation and dependence, and after revolv- 
 ing several schemes, she preferred the humble industry 
 of keeping a boarding-house for Westminster school, 
 where she laboriously earned a competence for her 
 old age. This singular opportunity of blending the 
 advantages of private and public education decided my 
 father : after the Christmas holidays, in January, 1749, 
 I accompanied Mrs. Porten to her new house in College 
 street, and was immediately entered in the school, of 
 which Dr. John Nicoll was at time Head-master.^^ At 
 
 -^ Dr. John Nicoll, 2d or head master 1714-53 — third 
 successor of Busby, 1638-95 — flogged how many Bishops 
 and Judges (Biogr. Brit., p. 55, new Edit.).* 
 
 * John Nicoll, D.D., born in 1G83, licnd-masler in 1733. He held this 
 was appointed second inaHter of i)nst till 1753, and died in 1765 
 Westminster Kcliool in 17H, and His name is also spelt "Nichols."
 
 LIFE AT WESTMINSTER SCHOOL. 51 
 
 iirst I was alone ; but my aunt's resolution was praised ; 
 her character was esteemed : her friends were numerous 
 and active : in the course of some years she became 
 the mother of forty or fifty boys, for the most part of 
 family and fortune ; and as her primitive habitation was 
 too narrow, she built and occupied a spacious mansion in 
 Dean's Yard. I shall always be ready to joyn in the 
 common opinion, that our public schools, which have 
 produced so many eminent characters, are the best 
 adapted to the Genius and constitution of the English 
 people. A boy of spirit may acquire a prsevious and 
 practical experience of the World, and his playfellows 
 may be the future friends of his heart or his interest. 
 In a free intercourse with his equals, the habits of truth, 
 fortitude, and prudence will insensibly be matured ; birth 
 and riches are measured by the standard of personal merit ; 
 and the mimic scene of a rebellion has sometimes * dis- 
 played in their true colours the ministers and patriots 
 of the rising generation. Our seminaries of learning do 
 not exactly correspond with the precept of a Spartan 
 King "that the child should be instructed in the arts 
 wliich will be useful to the man," ^^ since a finished scholar 
 may emerge from the head of Westminster or Eaton in 
 total ignorance of the business and conversation of 
 English Gentlemen in the latter end of the eighteenth 
 
 E'/ii^TjTOuvTos Se TLVos Tiva Set ^avQavfiv rovs naiSas, 
 TaiJT' (eiirej') ois Se ofSpes yevofiefoi xpVCOVTai. 
 
 Ageeilaus. 
 
 Apotheginata Grsec. Hen. Steph., 15G8, p. 306. 
 
 by Gibbon and by Cowper, who 1711; Robert Freind, 1711-1733; 
 
 was also one of his pupils. John Nicoll, 1733-1753. 
 
 Richai d Bu.sby was head-master * This word is scored through in 
 
 1G38-1G95; Thomas Knipe, 1695- MS.
 
 52 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 century. But these schools may assume the merit of 
 teaching all that they pretend to teach, the Latin and 
 Greek languages : ^ they deposit in the hands of a disciple 
 the keys of two valuable chests ; nor can he complain if 
 they are afterwards lost or neglected by his own fault. 
 The necessity of leading in equal ranks so many un- 
 equal powers of capacity and application will prolong 
 to eight or ten years the juvenile studies, which might 
 be dispatched in half that time by the skillful master 
 of a single pupil. Yet even the repetition of exercise 
 and discipline contributes to fix in a vacant mind the 
 verbal science of grammar and prosody ; and the private 
 or voluntary student, who possesses the sense and spirit 
 of the Classics, may offend by a false quantity the scrupu- 
 lous ear of a well-flogged Critic.^^ For myself, I must be 
 
 2» Smith (Wealth, etc., vol. ii. p. 348 *), a fair Judge— 
 how many scholars —English gentry know Latin, should 
 learn more or less Greek — mostly gone by thirty. 
 
 -^ Burke's Vectigal f — Sir Grey, Montague, tutti quanti, 
 his superior knowledge.| 
 
 * " In England the public great turtle ; but the sound of a 
 schools are much less corrupted false quantity instantly aroused 
 than the universities. In the him, and, opening his eyes, he ex- 
 schools the youtli arc taught, or at claimed in a very marked and 
 least may be taught, Greek and distinct manner, 'vectigal.' 'I 
 Latin, that is, everything wliich tliank tlie noble Lord,' said Burke, 
 the mnsters pretend to teuch, or with liappy adroitness, ' for tlie 
 which it is expected they should correction, the more particularly as 
 teach." — Wealth of Nationg, ed. it affords me the opportunity of 
 Tliorold Ko^ers, ii. 350. repeating a maxim which he greatly 
 
 t " Mr. Burke, in the course of needs to have reiterated upon liim.* 
 
 some very severe anima<lversiona He then thui\dered out, 'Magnum 
 
 wliich he made on Lord Nortli for vectigal est parMimonia.' " — liecol- 
 
 want of due economy in his man- lectionn nf William Wilherforce, 
 
 agcment of tlie jjiiblic purse, intro- by John S. Harford, pp. !>3, 94. 
 
 duced the well-known apliorism, J Sir Grey Cofjper (172G-1801) 
 
 ' Mii^'nmn vectigal est parsimonia.' was Secretary of Treasury under 
 
 but was guilty of a false quantity Lord North, and a Lord of the 
 
 by .saying ' vc^ctTgal.' Lord Nnrtli, Treasury in tlie Coalition Cabinet 
 
 wl)il(! tlii.s pliilippic went on, had of North and Fox. His adminis- 
 
 been half aslei-p. and sat heaving trativo abilities were highly os- 
 
 backwards and forwards like a teemed, and he was considered a
 
 VISIT TO BATH. 53 
 
 content with a very small share of the civil and litterary 
 fruits of a public school : in the space of two years 
 (1749, 1750), interrupted by danger and debility, I pain- 
 fully climbed into the third form ; and my riper age was 
 left to acquire the beauties of the Latin, and the rudi- 
 ments of the Greek, tongue. Instead of audaciously 
 mingling in the sports, the quarrels, and the connections 
 of our little World, I was still cherished at home under the 
 maternal wing of my aunt ; and my removal from West- 
 minster long preceded the approach of manhood. [In our 
 domestic society I formed, however, an intimate acquaint- 
 ance with a young nobleman of my own age, and vainly 
 flattered myself that our sentiments would prove as 
 lasting as they seemed to be mutual. On my return 
 from abroad his coldness repelled such faint advances as 
 my pride allowed me to make, and in our different walks 
 of life we gradually became strangers to each other. Yet 
 his private character, for Lord H.* has never affected 
 a public name, leaves me no room to accuse the pro- 
 priety and merit of my early choice.] 
 
 The violence and variety of my complaints, which had 
 excused my frequent absence from Westminster school, 
 at length engaged Mrs. Porten, with the advice ot 
 physicians, to conduct me to Bath : at the end of the 
 Michaelmas vacation (1750) she quitted me with reluc- 
 tance, and I remained several months under the care of a 
 trusty maid-servant. A strange nervous affection, which 
 
 high authority on financial ques- 348). 
 
 tione. Lord North and Montagu were 
 
 Frederic Montagu (1733-1800) educated at Eton. Sir Grey Cooper 
 
 was also a Lord of the Treasury, does not appear to have been at 
 
 was popular in society, and had any public school, 
 
 literary tastes. Wraxall describes * Lionel, Lord Huiitingtower, 
 
 him as " a man of distinguished who became fourth Earl of Dysart, 
 
 probity " (rosthumous Memoirs, ii. died in 1799.
 
 54 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 alternately contracted my legs, and produced without any 
 visible symptoms the most excruciating pain, was in- 
 effectually opposed by the various methods of bathing 
 and pumping. From Bath I was transported to Win- 
 chester, to the house of a physician ; and after the failure 
 of his medical skill, we had again recoiirse to the virtues 
 of the Bath waters. During the intervals of these fits I 
 moved with my father to Buriton and Putney, and a 
 short unsuccessful trial was attempted to renew my 
 attendance at Westminster school. But my infirmities 
 could not be reconciled with the hours and discipline of 
 a public seminary ; and instead of a domestic tutor, who 
 might have watched the favourable moments and gently 
 advanced the progress of my learning, my father was too 
 easily content with such occasional teachers as the different 
 places of my residence could supply. I was never forced, 
 and seldom was I persuaded to admit these lessons ; yet 
 I read with a Clergyman at Bath some odes of Horace, 
 and several episodes of Yirgil, which gave me an imperfect 
 and transient eniovment of the Latin Poets. It mifjht 
 now be apprehended that I should continue for life an 
 illiterate cripple : but as I approached my sixteenth year, 
 Nature displayed in my favour her mysterious energies ; 
 mv constitution was fortified and fixed, and mv disorders, 
 instead of growing witli my growth and strengthening 
 with my strength, most wonderfully vanished. I have 
 never possessed or abused the insolence of health ; but 
 since that time few persons have been more exempt from 
 real or imae:inarv ills, and till I am admonished bv the 
 Gout the reader shall no more be troubled with 
 the history of any bodily complaints. IMy unexpected 
 recovery again encouraged the hope of my education.
 
 MR. PHILIP FRANCIS. 
 
 55 
 
 and I was placed at Eslier in Surrey, in the house of 
 the Reverend Mr. Philip Francis,^^ in a pleasant spot 
 which promised to unite the various benefits of air. 
 exercise, and study (January, 1752). ^Mr. Francis was 
 recommended, I believe, by the Mallets as a scholar 
 and a wit : his two tragedies * have been coldly received, 
 but his version of Demosthenes, which I have not seen, 
 supposes some knowledge of Greek litterature, and he 
 had executed with success and applause the arduous 
 task of a compleat translation of Horace in English 
 verse, t Besides a young Gentleman whose name I do 
 not remember, our family consisted only of myself and 
 his son, who has since been conspicuous in the supreme 
 council of India, from whence he is returned to England 
 with an ample fortune. It was stipulated that his father 
 should always confine himself to a small number ; and 
 with so able a prseceptor in this private academy, the 
 time which I had lost might" have been speedily retrieved. 
 But the experience of a few weeks was sufficient to dis- 
 cover that Mr. Francis's spirit was too lively for his 
 profession ; and while he indulged himself in the 
 pleasures of London, his pupils were left idle at Esher 
 in the custody of a Dutch Usher, of low manners and 
 
 ^ P. Francis an Irishman, died at Bath, 1773 — A political 
 writer promot -d by Fox ; pardoned by Pitt, his son's patron 
 — Biograph. Dramat., fol. i. p. 1784 
 
 * Eugenia (1752) and Constantine 
 (1754:) "were but coolly received." 
 
 -Biofjr. Dram. 
 
 t "The lyrical part of Horace 
 never can be perfectly translated : 
 so much of the excellence is in 
 the numbers and expression. Fran- 
 cis has done it the best. I'll take 
 his, five out of six, ajjainst them 
 all." — Dr. Johnson. 
 
 X Rev. Philip Francis (? 1708- 
 
 1773) was the father of Sir Philip 
 Francis. As private chaplain to 
 Lady Caroline Fox, he taught 
 Charles James Fox to read. His 
 political pamphlets, including? his 
 lampoon, Mr. Pitt's Letter Versi- 
 fied, were in great part inspired 
 by Lord Holland, througli whose 
 influence he became rector of Bar- 
 row, in Suflfolk, and chaplain to 
 Clielsea Hospital.
 
 56 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu ¥. 
 
 contemptible learning. From such careless or un- 
 worthy hands I was indignantly rescued : but] my 
 father's perplexity, rather than his prudence, was urged 
 to embrace a singular and desperate measure. Without 
 preparation or delay he carried me to Oxford, and I was 
 matriculated in the University as a Gentleman Com- 
 moner of Magdalen College before I accomplished the 
 fifteenth year of my age (April. 3. 1752). 
 
 The curiosity which had been implanted in my infant 
 mind was still alive and active ; but my reason was not 
 sufficiently informed to understand the value, or to lament 
 the loss, of three precious years from my entrance at 
 Westminster to my admission at Oxford. Instead of 
 repining at my long and frequent confinement to the 
 chamber or the couch, I secretly rejoyced in those in- 
 firmities which delivered me from the exercises of the 
 school and the society of my equals. As often as I was 
 tolerably exempt from danger and pain, reading, free 
 desultory reading, was the employment and comfort of 
 my solitary hours : at Westminster my aunt sought only 
 to amuse and indulge me; in my stations at Bath and 
 Winchester, at Buriton and Putney, a false compassion 
 respected my sufferings, and I was allowed, without 
 controul or advice, to gratify the wanderings of an unripe 
 taste. My indiscriminate appetite subsided by degrees in 
 the Historic line ; and, since Philosophy has exploded all 
 innate ideas and natural projjensities, I must ascribe this 
 choice to the assiduous perusal of the Universal history 
 as the octavo Volumes successively appeared. This unequal 
 work, and a treatise of Hearne, the Buctor Historicus* 
 
 * Ductor Historicus, or a Short Tliomas Hearne. 2 vols., 8vo. 
 System of Universal History, by 1704.
 
 EARLY READING. 57 
 
 referred and introduced me to the Greek and Koman 
 historians, to as many at least as were accessible to an 
 English reader. All that I could find were greedily- 
 devoured, from Littlebury's lame Herodotus, and Spel- 
 man's valuable Xenophon, to the pompous folios of 
 Gordon's Tacitus, and a ragged Procopius of the begin- 
 ning of the last Century. The cheap acquisition of so 
 much knowledge confirmed my dislike to the study of 
 languages, and I argued with Mrs. Porten that, were I 
 master of Greek and Latin, I must interpret to myself 
 in English the thoughts of the Original, and that such 
 extemporary versions must be inferior to the elaborate 
 translations of professed scholars : a silly sophism which 
 could not easily be confuted by a person ignorant of any 
 other language than her own. From the ancient I leaped 
 to the modern World; many crude lumps of Speed, 
 Rapin, Mezeray, Davila, Machiavel, Father Paul, Bower, 
 etc., passed through me like so many novels, and I 
 swallowed with the same voracious appetite the descrip- 
 tions of India and China, of Mexico and Peru. [Our 
 family collection was decently furnislied ; the circulating 
 libraries of London and Bath afforded a rich treasures (sic) ; 
 I borrowed many books, and some I contrived to purchase 
 from my scanty allowance. My father's friends who 
 visited the boy were astonished at finding him surrounded 
 with a heap of folios, of whose titles the]/ were ignorant, 
 and on whose contents he could pertinently discourse.] 
 
 My first introduction to the Historic scenes, which 
 have since engaged so many years of my life, must be 
 ascribed to an accident. In the summer of 1751 I accom- 
 panied my father on a visit to Mr. Hoare's, in Wiltshire ; 
 but I was less delighted with the beauties of Stourhead
 
 58 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik F. 
 
 than with discovering in the library a common book, the 
 continuation of Echard's Roman history, which is indeed 
 executed with more skill and taste than the praevious 
 work : to me the reigns of the successors of Constantine 
 were absolutely new, and I was immersed in the passage 
 of the Goths over the Danube when the summons of the 
 dinner-bell reluctantly dragged me from my intellectual 
 feast. This transient glance served rather to irritate than 
 to appease my curiosity, and no sooner was I returned 
 to Bath than I procured the second and third Yolumes^ 
 of Howell's history of the World, which exhibit the 
 Byzantine period on a larger scale. Mahomet and his 
 Saracens soon fixed my attention, and some instinct of 
 criticism directed me to the genuine sources. Simon 
 Ockley, an original in every sense, first opened my eyes,, 
 and I was led from one book to another till I had ranged 
 round the circle of Oriental history. Before I was sixteen 
 I had exhausted all that could be learned in English 
 of the Arabs and Persians, the Tartars and Turks ; and 
 the same ardour urged me to guess at the French of 
 d'Herbelot, and to construe the barbarous Latin of Pocock's 
 Abulpharagius. Such vague and multifarious reading 
 could not teach me to think, to wi'ite, or to act ; and the 
 only principle that darted a ray of light into the in- 
 digested Chaos was an early and rational application to 
 the order of time and place. The maps of Cellarius and 
 Wells imprinted in my mind the picture of ancient 
 Geography ; from Strauchius I imbibed the elements of 
 Chronology ; the tables of Helvicus and Anderson, the 
 annals of Usher and Prideaux, distinguished the connec- 
 tion of events, and I engraved the multitude of names 
 and dates in a clear and indelible series. But in the
 
 PUBLIC SCHOOLS. 59 
 
 discussion of the first ages I overleaped the bounds of 
 modesty and use. In my childish balance I presumed 
 to weigh the systems of Scaliger and Petavius, of 
 Marsham and Newton which I could seldom study in 
 the originals ; [the Dynasties of Assyria and Egypt were 
 my top and cricket-ball ;] and my sleep has been disturbed 
 l)y the difficulty of reconciling the Septuagint with the 
 Hebrew computation. I arrived at Oxford with a stock of 
 erudition that might have puzzled a Doctor, and a degree of 
 ignorance of which a school boy would have been ashamed. 
 At the conclusion of this first period of my life, I am 
 tempted to enter a protest against the trite and lavish 
 praise of the happiness of our boyish years, which is 
 echoed with so much affectation in the World. That 
 hajjpiness I have never known, that time I have never 
 regretted ; and were my poor aunt still alive, she would 
 bear testimony to the early and constant uniformity of 
 my sentiments. It will, indeed, be replied that I am not 
 a competent Judge ; that pleasure is incompatible with 
 pain, that joy is excluded from sickness; and that the 
 felicity of a schoolboy consists in the perpetual motion 
 of thoughtless and playful agility, in which I was never 
 qualified to excell. My name, it is most true, could 
 never be enrolled among the sprightly race, the idle 
 progeny of Eton or Westminster, who delight to cleave 
 the water with pliant arm, to urge the flying ball, and 
 to chace the speed of the rolling circle.^^ CBut I would 
 ask the warmest and most active Hero of the play-field 
 whether he can seriously compare his childish with his 
 
 -" Gray's prospect of Eton College — images extricated 
 from metre — Father Thames at Westminster, instead of 
 margent green, has trading barges and carpenters' yards.
 
 60 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoik F. 
 
 manly enjoyments; whether he does not feel, as the 
 most precious attribute of his existence, the vigorous 
 maturity of sensual and spiritual powers which Nature 
 has reserved for the age of puberty. A state of happi- 
 ness arising only from the want of foresight and re- 
 flection shall never provoke my envy ; such degenerate 
 taste would tend to sink us in the scale of beings from 
 a man to a child, a dog and an oyster, till we had reached 
 the confines of brute matter, Avhich cannot suffer, because 
 it cannot feel.] The poet may gaily describe the short 
 hours of recreation; but he forgets the daily, tedious 
 labours of the school, which is approached each morning 
 with anxious and reluctant steps. ([Degrees of misery 
 are projDortioned to the mind rather than to the object ; 
 parva leves eapiunt animos ; and few men, in the tryals 
 of life, have experienced a more painful sensation than 
 the poor schoolboy with an imperfect task, who trembles 
 on the eve of the black Monday. A school is the cavern 
 of fear and sorrow; the mobility of the captive youths 
 is chained to a book and a desk ; an inflexible master 
 commands their attention, which every moment is im- 
 patient to escape ; they labour like the soldiers of Persia 
 under the scourge,'-^' and their education is nearly finished 
 before they can apprehend the sense or utility of the 
 harsh lessons which they are forced to repeat.'-^ Sucli 
 
 '^'' Ytto /xao-Ttyos, familiar to the readers of Herodotus. 
 
 ^ I do not absolutely coiideiuu tlie rod — use and abuse — 
 had almost extinguished Erasmus (0pp. Tom. i. p. 504)* — 
 horrid cruelty of Dean Colet, founder of St. I'anl's (j». 505 ; 
 Life, p. 175) t — Busby would j;ive 30, 40, GO laslies to jioor 
 little boys for trivial offences (Biog. Brit., ii. 53, new edit.). J 
 
 * See Appendix, 11, p. 100. (not ii.) p. 53 of the new edition 
 
 t Sec Appendix, 12, p. 101. (1784) of the Biori. Brit., which 
 
 X The article Busby is in vol. iii. only went to Faxtolj (vol. v.), an<l
 
 LOVE OF FREEDOM. 61 
 
 blind and absolute dependence may be necessary, but 
 can never be delightful : Freedom is the first wish of 
 our heart ; freedom is the first blessing of our nature ; 
 and, unless we bind ourselves with the voluntary chains 
 of interest or passion, we advance in freedom as we 
 advance in years.] 
 
 was never finished. This reference and is a quotation from True and 
 
 to Busby giving so many lashes to perfect Narrative of the differences 
 
 little boys is not, however, in the hetween Mr. Bushy and Mr. Bag- 
 
 body of the article, but in a note, shaw, published 1659.
 
 62 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F, 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 A TRAVELLER who visits Oxforcl or Cambridge is sur- 
 prized and edified by the apparent order and tranquillity 
 that prevail in the seats of the English muses.^ In the 
 most celebrated Universities of Holland, Germany, and 
 Italy, the students, who swarm from different countries, 
 are loosely dispersed in private lodgings at the houses of 
 the burghers : they dress according to their fancy and 
 fortune : and in the intemperate quarrels of youth and 
 wine, their swords, though less frequently than of old, 
 are sometimes stained with each other's blood.^ The use 
 of arms is banished from our English Universities ; the 
 
 ^ Le nombre des Etudians d'Oxford va a 2000. lis ue 
 portent ni baton ni epee. Tons portent la robe et le bonnet 
 quarre riiaV)illenieiit differe suivant le degre et la qualito. 
 . . . Tout et bien regie dans cette Universite : les desordres 
 n'y regnent pas conime dans celles d'Alleniagne (Voyage 
 Litteraire en 1733, par M. Jordan (the correspondent of 
 Frederic), pp. 173, 175). 
 
 " Quarrels of tlie students — Padua deserfed by stranger — 
 unsafe after sunset (Burnet's travels, p. 102)* — At Oxford — 
 North and South, Greeks and Trojans — Duels at Gottingen. 
 
 * JMshopHnTnaVnTnircli^thrnutih tlioiigh so mnoli supported by the 
 
 France, Italy, Germnnij, and Hicit- Vtnctians tliiit they pay lifty prn- 
 
 zarland. lulin., 1752. P. 101. fcssors. yet tiiuks (;xtrem(;ly. Thorc^ 
 
 Letter III. from Florence. " From are no men of any great fame in it 
 
 Vinceuza it is eighteen miles to now ; and tlie quarrels anionp the 
 
 Padua, all like a garden. Hero students have driven away most of 
 
 one sees the decays of a vost eity, tlie strangers tliat u.st'd to come 
 
 which was once one of the biggest and study there ; for it is not safe 
 
 of all Italy. . . . The university here, to stir abroad liere after sunset."
 
 OXFORD. 63 
 
 uniform habit of the Academies, the square cap and 
 black gown, is adapted to the civil and even clerical 
 profession; and from the Doctor in Divinity to the 
 under-graduate, the degrees of learning and age are 
 externally distinguished. Instead of being scattered in 
 a town, the students of Oxford and Cambridge are united 
 in Colleges ; their maintenance is provided at their own 
 expence or that of the founders ; and the stated hours of 
 the hall and chappel represent the discipline of a regular 
 and, as it were, a Eeligious community. The eyes of the 
 traveller are attracted by the size or beauty of the public 
 edifices ; and the principal colleges appear to be so many 
 palaces which a liberal nation has erected and endowed 
 for the habitation of Science. My own introduction to 
 the University of Oxford forms a new a3ra in my life, 
 and at the distance of forty years I still remember 
 my first emotions of surprize and satisfaction. In my 
 fifteenth year I felt myself suddenly raised from a boy 
 to a man ; the persons whom I respected as my superiors 
 in age and Academical rank entertained me with every 
 mark of attention and civility ; and my vanity was 
 flattered by the velvet cap and silk gown which dis- 
 criminate a Gentleman- Commoner from a plebeian 
 student. A decent allowance, more money than a school- 
 boy had ever seen, was at my own disposal, and I might 
 command among the tradesmen of Oxford an indefinite 
 and dangerous latitude of credit. A key was delivered 
 into my hands which gave me the free use of a numerous 
 and learned library ; my apartment consisted of three 
 elegant and well-furnished rooms in the new building, a 
 stately pile, of Magdalen College ; and the adjacent 
 walks, had they been frequented by Plato's disciples.
 
 64 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 might have been compared to the Attic shade on the 
 banks of the Ilissus.^ Such was the fair prospect of my 
 entrance (April. 3 : 1752) into the University of Oxford. 
 A venerable prelate, whose taste and erudition must 
 reflect honour on the society in which they were formed, 
 has drawn a very interesting picture of his Academical 
 life. " I was educated," says Bishop Lowth, " in the 
 University of Oxford. I enjoyed all the advantages, both 
 public and private, which that famous seat of learning so 
 largely affords. I spent many years in that illustrious 
 Society, in a well-regulated course of useful discipline 
 and studies, and in the agreeable and improving com- 
 merce of Gentlemen and of Scholars ; in a society where 
 emulation without envy, ambition without jealousy, con- 
 tention without animosity, incited industry and awakened 
 genius : where a liberal pursuit of knowledge and a 
 generous freedom of thought was raised, encouraged, and 
 pushed forward, by example, by commendation, and by 
 authority. I breathed the same atmosphere that the 
 Hookers, the Chillingwoeths, and the Lockes had 
 breathed before ; whose benevolence and humanity were 
 as extensive as their vast Genius and comprehensive 
 knowledge ; who always treated their adversaries with 
 civility and respect ; who made candour, moderation, and 
 liberal judgement as much the rule and law as the subject 
 of their discourses. And do you reproach me with my 
 education in This place, and with my relation to This 
 most respectable Body, whicli I shall always esteem 
 
 •' Praised by Hurd (Dialogues, iii. jip. 165-1G9) — Spartan 
 lijills, Attic sjaiiposia are or may he united.* 
 
 * Sec Appemlix, 13, p. 101.
 
 BISHOP LOWTH ON OXFORD. 
 
 65 
 
 my greatest advantage, and my highest honour." ^ I 
 transcribe Avith pleasure this eloquent passage, without 
 examinino; what benefits or what rewards were derived by 
 Hooker, or Chillingworth, or Locke from their Academical 
 institution; without enquiring whether in this angry 
 controversy the spirit of Lowth himself is purified from 
 the intolerant zeal which Warburton had ascribed to the 
 Genius of the place.^ The expression of gratitude is a 
 
 ^ Letter of a late professor at Oxford (pp. 62-65) by 
 an happy quot. from Clarendon charges W. with having been 
 an attorney's Clerk.* 
 
 ■' Idolatry excluded from toleration (pp. 34-51) — and 
 Bengal — tlie Lingam, Suicide ? Inquisition at Calcutta ? 
 Halt 
 
 * Kobert Lowth (1710-1787), 
 appointed Bishop of St. David's in 
 170(3, but promoted to the see of 
 Oxford the same year, and to that 
 of London in 1777. 
 
 Tlie controversy between Lowth 
 and Warburton arose from a passage 
 in Lowth's Prxlectiones, in whicli 
 an argument concerning tlie civil 
 jurisdiction among tlie Jews in- 
 volved a question as to the date 
 and authority of the Book of Job 
 (cf. ch. xxxi. 28). The dispute, 
 which was conducted witli some 
 asperity by AVarburton, extended 
 over tun years. Lowth's Letter to 
 the Rt. liev. Author of the Divine 
 Legation of Moses Demonstrated; 
 in ansiver to the Appendix to Vie 
 fifth volume of that worlc, with an 
 Appendix containing a former lite- 
 rary Correspondence hy a Late 
 Professor in the University of Oxford, 
 was published in Oxford, 17(55. 
 
 The following is the passage in 
 which Lord Clarendon is quoted : 
 ^' Pray, my Lord, what is it to the 
 purpose where I have been brought 
 up? To have made a proper us^e 
 of the advantages of a good educa- 
 tion is a just praise, but to have 
 overcome the disadvantages of a 
 bad one is a much greater. Had 
 
 I not your Lordship's example to 
 justify me, I should think it a jiiece 
 of extreme impertinence to enquire 
 where you were bred, though one 
 might possibly plead as an excuse 
 for it, a natural curiosity to know 
 where and how such a plisenomeuon 
 was produced. It is commonly said 
 that your Lordship's education was 
 of that particular kind concerning 
 which it is a remark of that great 
 judge of men and manners, Lord 
 Clarendon, that it peculiarly dis- 
 poses men to be proud, insolent, 
 and pragmatical. 'Colonel Har- 
 rison was the son of a butcher, and 
 had been bred up in the place of a 
 clerk to a lawyer; which kind of 
 education introduces men into the 
 language and practice of business ; 
 and if it be not resisted by the 
 great ingenuity of the person, in- 
 clines young men to more pride 
 than any other kind of breeding, 
 and disposes them to be prag- 
 matical and insolent.' " 
 
 t The passage in Lowtli's Letter 
 here referred to, deals with War- 
 burton's arguments concerning 
 toleration: he had written, "As 
 these patriarchs did not in facto 
 (which appears from their history), 
 so they could not de jure (which 
 
 •i— F
 
 66 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 virtue and a pleasure; a liberal mind will delight to 
 cherish and celebrate the memory of its parents, and the 
 teachers of science are the parents of the mind.^ I 
 applaud the filial piety which it is impossible for me to 
 imitate, since I must not confess an imaginary debt to 
 
 ^ Locke owed no thanks— Student of Christ Church — 
 expelled, never restored after Eevol. (Biograph. Brit., vol. v.) 
 — Heads of houses— no public censure — He laughed a good 
 jest, a recommendation, yet was anxious to know (His Works, 
 4:" Edit., Vol. iv. p. 618, 19, in his letters).* 
 
 appears from the laws of Nature 
 and Nations) punish idolatry by the 
 Judge" and bad held that Idolatry 
 was punishable neither by the Law 
 of Nations, nor the Law of Nature. 
 To this Lowth replies : " Granted 
 one nation has no right to punish 
 another Nation for Idolatry, for one 
 nation has no jurisdiction over 
 another nation." ..." But, ' Idola- 
 try,' you say, ' is not punishable by 
 the Law of Nature.' This is not 
 quite so clear. Idolatry is a crime 
 against the Light of Nature, and 
 therefore against the Law of Na- 
 ture." After quoting Gal. v. 19, 
 20, he proceeds to argue that when 
 Idolatry becomes identical with 
 immorality, it is punishable by the 
 Law of Nature. " It is agreed 
 among the most strenuous Advo- 
 cates of Religious Liberty that 
 Toleration has its proper bounds; 
 and that there are opinions as well 
 as practices, which in a well-regu- 
 lated free State ought not to be 
 tolerated." After ijuoting Mr. 
 Locke and Bishop Ellys in support 
 of this contention, he proceeds : " I 
 hope it will not offend your Lord- 
 ship's toleration if I exclude from 
 Toleration all those who make 
 practices shocking to humanity, 
 and destructive ot the human race 
 itself, parts of their religious wor- 
 ship." 
 
 The latter part of the note, no 
 doubt, contains Gibbon's memo- 
 randa concerning more recent illus- 
 
 trations of the point, especially as 
 regards the Phallic worship and 
 the Brahmanical rite of Suttee. 
 The word Linqam or Linga in 
 Sanskrit and liindu signilies a 
 token or badge ; thence the symbol 
 of Siva, which is so extensively an 
 object of worship among the Hin- 
 dus in the form of a cylinder of 
 stone. (OnLingam and Suttee, see 
 Yule's Glossary of Anglo-Indian 
 Words and Phrases.) 
 
 * In the article in the Biogr. 
 Brit., vol. v. p. 2997, it is stated 
 that on his return to England in 
 1G89, Locke " put in a claim to his 
 student's place at Christ Church, 
 but that society rejected his pre- 
 tensions, as the proceedings iu his 
 deprivation were conformable to 
 their statutes." 
 
 Locke writes to Anthony Col- 
 lins in 1704, asking him to procure 
 for him a particular account of the 
 proceedings at the meeting of the 
 heads of houses at Oxford, to cen- 
 sure and discourage the reading of 
 his Essay on Iluman Understand- 
 ing. " When these particulars are 
 obtained," he continues, "it will 
 be lit to consider what use to make 
 of them. In the meantime, I take 
 what has been done as a recom- 
 mendation of that book to the 
 wjrld, iis you do; and I conclude 
 when you and I meet next we shall 
 be merry upon the subject." — 
 Locke's Works, vol. iv., 4to, pp. 
 018, 019.
 
 CRITICISM OF THE UNIVEESITIES. 67 
 
 assume the merit of a just or generous retribution. To 
 the University of Oxford I acknowledge no obligation ; 
 and she will as chearfully renounce me for a son, as I am 
 willing to disclaim her for a mother. I spent fourteen 
 months at Magdalen College ; they proved the fourteen 
 months the most idle and unprofitable of my whole life : 
 the reader Avill pronounce between the school and the 
 scholar ; but I cannot affect to believe that Nature had 
 disqualified me for all litterary pursuits. The specious 
 and ready excuse of my tender age, imperfect preparation, 
 and hasty departure may doubtless be alleged, nor do I 
 wish to defraud such excuses of their proper weight. 
 Yet in my sixteenth year I was not devoid of capacity 
 or application ; even my childish reading had displayed 
 an early though blind propensity for books, and the 
 shallow flood might have been taught to flow in a deep 
 channel and a clear stream. In the discipline of a w^ell- 
 constituted Academy, under the guidance of skillful and 
 vigilant professors, I should gradually have risen from 
 translations to originals, from the Latin to the Greek 
 Classics, from dead languages to living science ; my 
 hours would have been occupied by useful and agreeable 
 studies : the wanderings of fancy would have been 
 restrained, and I should have escaped the temptations 
 of idleness which finally precipitated my departure from 
 Oxford. 
 
 Perhaps, in a separate annotation, I may coolly 
 examine the fabulous and real antiquities of our sister 
 Universities, a question which has kindled such fierce and 
 foolish disputes among their fanatic sons. In the mean 
 while, it will be acknowledged that these venerable bodies 
 are sufficiently old to partake of all the prejudices and
 
 68 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 infirmities of age. The schools of Oxford and Cambridge 
 were founded in a dark age of false and barbarous science, 
 and they are still tainted with the vices of their origin. 
 Their primitive discipline was adapted to the education 
 of priests and monks ; and the goverment still remains 
 in the hands of the Clergy, an order of men whose 
 manners are remote from the present World, and whose 
 eyes are dazzled by the light of Philosophy. The legal 
 incorporation of these societies by the charters of Popes 
 and Kings had given them a monopoly of the public 
 instruction ; and the spirit of monopolists is narrow, lazy, 
 and oppressive ; their work is more costly and less pro- 
 ductive than that of independent artists; and the new 
 improvements so eagerly grasped by the competition of 
 freedom, are admitted with slow and sullen reluctance in 
 those proud corporations, above the fear of a rival, and 
 below the confession of an error. We may scarcely hope 
 that any reformation will be a voluntary act ; '^ and so 
 deeply are they rooted in law and prejudice, that even 
 the omnipotence of Parliament would shrink from an 
 enquiry into the state and abuses of the two Universities. 
 The use of Academical degrees, as old as the thirteenth 
 century, is visibly borroAved from the mechanic corpora- 
 tions, in which an apprentice, after serving his time, 
 obtains a testimonial of his skill, and a license to prac- 
 tise his trade and mystery. It is not my design to 
 depreciate those honours which could never gratify or 
 disappoint my ambition ; and I should applaud the 
 
 ■' Lord Townshend wished to reform — severe sclieme (B. 
 B. torn. V. Prideaiix (A. A.) — never heard of luore. Whiston 
 (pp. 42-45) Emendeuda, always tutors and old fellows.* 
 
 * Sec Appendix, 14, p. 101.
 
 THEOLOGY AT OXFOED. 69 
 
 institution, if the degrees of Batchelor or licentiate were 
 bestowed as the reward of manly and successful study ; 
 if the name and rank of Doctor or Master were strictly 
 reserved for the professors of science who have approved 
 their title to the public esteem. ^The mysterious faculty 
 of Theology must not be scanned by a profane eye, the 
 cloak of reason sits awkwardly on our fashionable Divines, 
 and in the Ecclesiastical studies of the fathers and councils 
 their modesty Avill yield to the Catholic universities. 
 Our English civilians and canonists have never been 
 famous ; their real business is confined to a small circle ; 
 and the double jurisprudence of Rome is overwhelmed 
 by the enormous profession of common lawyers, who, in 
 the pursuit of honours and riches, disdain the mock 
 majesty of our hudge Doctors.^ We are justly proud of 
 the skill and learning of our physicians ; their skill is 
 acquired in the practise of the hospitals ; they seek their 
 learning in London, in Scotland, or on the continent, 
 and few patients would trust their pulse to a medical 
 student if he had passed the fourteen years of his 
 noviciate at Oxford or Cambridge, whose degrees, how- 
 
 ** The budge Doctors of the Stoic fur (Conius, 707, and 
 Warton's notes, p. 220) — I do not apply lean and sallow 
 abstinence.* 
 
 * " O foolishness of men ! that lend cation, who wear the gown of the 
 
 their ears Stoic philosojahy. Budge is fur. 
 
 To those Budge Doctors of the antiently an ornament of the scho- 
 
 Stoick fur, lastic habit. In the more antient 
 
 And fetch their precepts from colleges of our universities, the 
 
 the Cynick tub, annual expenses for furring the 
 
 Praising the lean and sallow robes or liveries of the fellows, 
 
 Abstinence." appear to have been very consider- 
 
 (Comus, 723-725.) able. 'The Stoic fur' is as much 
 
 as if he had said ' the Stoic sect.' 
 
 Warton's note on this passage is But he explains the obsolete word, 
 
 as follows: "Those morose and rigid in which there is a tincture of ridi- 
 
 teachers of abstinence and mortifi- cule, by a very awkward tautology."
 
 70 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 ever, are exclusively admitted in the Eoyal College. 
 The Arts are supposed to include the liberal knowledge 
 of Philosophy and litterature ; but I am informed that 
 some tattered shreds of the old Logic and Metaphysics 
 compose the exercises for a Batchelor and Master's degree ; 
 and that modern improvements, instead of introducing 
 a more rational tryal, have only served to relax the forms 
 which are now the object of general contempt.^] 
 
 In all the Universities of Europe except our own, 
 the languages and sciences are distributed among a 
 numerous list of effective professors ; the students, 
 according to their taste, their calling, and their diligence, 
 apply themselves to the proper masters, and in the 
 annual repetition of public and private lectures, these 
 masters are assiduously employed.^'' Our curiosity may 
 inquire what number of professors has been instituted at 
 Oxford (for I shall now confine myself to my own Uni- 
 versity), by whom are they appointed, and what may be 
 the probable chances of merit or incapacity ? how many 
 are stationed to the three faculties, and how many are left 
 for the liberal Arts? what is the form and what the 
 substance of their lessons ? But all these questions are 
 silenced by one short and singular answer. " That in the 
 University of Oxford the greater part of the public pro- 
 fessors have for these many years given up altogether even 
 the pretence of teaching." ^^ Incredible as the fact may 
 
 '■' Here Vicesimiis Knox must be used.* 
 ^° Information from Gottincjcu — Professors — Lectures, etc. 
 Ji Smith, W. of N., Vol. i'i. L. v. C. 1, P. iii. Article iii. 
 
 * This probably refers to inrj : a work first publishofl by 
 
 Liberal Education;' or, A Frac- Knox in 1781, which passed through. 
 
 tical Treatise on the Methods of ten editions in eight years. 
 acquiring Useful and Polite Learn-
 
 ADAM SMITH ON OXFORD. 
 
 71 
 
 api3ear, I must rest my belief on the positive and impartial 
 evidence of a [Philosopher *] who had himself resided at 
 Oxford. Dr. Adam Smith assigns as the cause of their 
 indolence that, instead of being paid by voluntary con- 
 tributions, which would urge them to increase the number, 
 and to deserve the gratitude of their pupills, the Oxford 
 professors are secure in the enjoyment of a fixed stipend, 
 without the necessity of labour, or the apprehension of 
 controul.^'^ It has, indeed, been observed, nor is the 
 
 p. 343 — himself a P. at Glasgow — His Theory a small part 
 of his lectures.! 
 
 ^■^ Gray Prof, of modern history at Cambridge, £400 a 
 year (Mem., p. 333), in three years never once read — his 
 remorse — Mason's excuses, pp. 395-399 — Never admonished 
 by any superiors. | 
 
 * In Lord Sheffield's edition 
 "a master of moial and political 
 wisdom." Cf. p. 225. 
 
 t " In the University of Oxford, 
 the greater part of the public pro- 
 fessors have for these many years 
 given up altogether even the pre- 
 tence of teaching." On this pas- 
 sage, Professor Thorohl Kogers, 
 in his edition of the Wealth of 
 Nations, makes the following com- 
 ment. "The condition of Oxford 
 during the seven years in which 
 Adam Smith resided at Balliol 
 College was lower than at any 
 period of its history. . . . The 
 University swarmed with pro- 
 fligates, was a nest of noisy 
 Jacobites, and was at the meanest 
 literary ebb. Its revival hardly 
 commenced till the conclusion of 
 the eighteenth century, when the 
 examinations for degrees became 
 something better than a mere 
 farce."— Vol. ii. p. 346. 
 
 X Gray writes to Dr. Beattie 
 from Pembroke Hall, October 31, 
 1708 : "We live at so great a dis- 
 tance, that, perhaps, you may not 
 yet have learned, what I flatter 
 myself you will not be displeased 
 
 to hear : the middle of last summer 
 his Majesty was pleased to appoint 
 me Regius Professor of Modern 
 History in this University ; it is 
 the best thing the Crown has to 
 bestow (on a layman) here ; the 
 salary is £400 jier ann. ; but what 
 enhances the value of it to me is, 
 that it was bestowed without being 
 asked " (p. 333). 
 
 Mason's comment on this is (p. 
 395): "This is the last Letter 
 which I have selected for thia 
 Section ; and I insert it chiefly for 
 the occasion which it aff^ords me 
 of commenting on the latter part 
 of it, where he speaks of his own 
 employment as Professor of Modern 
 History ; an office which he had 
 now lield nearly three years, and 
 had not begun to execute the duties 
 of it. His health, which was all 
 the time gradually on the decline, 
 and his spirits only supported by 
 the frequent summer excursions, 
 during this period, might, to the 
 candid reader, be a sufficient apology 
 for this omission, or rather pro- 
 crastination : but there is more to 
 be said in his excuse ; and I should 
 ill execute the office I have under-
 
 72 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [:\Iemoir F. 
 
 observation absurd, that except in experimental sciences, 
 which demand a costly apparatus and a dextrous hand, 
 the many valuable treatises that have been published on 
 every subject of learning may now supersede the ancient 
 mode of oral instruction. Were this principle true in its 
 utmost latitude, I should only infer that the offices and 
 salaries which are become useless ought, without delay, 
 to be abolished.^^ But there still remains a material 
 difference between a book and a professor : the hour of 
 the lecture enforces attendance : attention is fixed bv the 
 presence, the voice, and the occasional questions of the 
 teacher ; the most idle will carry something away ; and 
 
 ^•°' Dodwell. Prsel. Camden — read on the August, hist. 25 
 lectures only for the authors aud private life of Hadrian 
 (Life, vol. 190-217 by Brokesby) ; must be now wortli (since 
 1722) at least £400 per annum (B. B., p. 168, new edit. 
 Camden, Ayliife, vol. ii. p. 186).* 
 
 taken of arranging these papers, 
 with a view of doing honour to his 
 memory, if 1 did not endeavour to 
 remove every exception that might, 
 with a show of reason, be taken to 
 his conduct in this instance." The 
 remaining pages to 399 are occupied 
 by Mason's attempts to find some 
 other excuse than ill-health. He 
 does not appear to be very success- 
 ful, and Gray's reasons seem to be 
 principally inability to make up 
 his mind in what form these lec- 
 tures were to be delivered. 
 
 Gray was appointed to the 
 professorship by the Duke of 
 Grafton in IKSS. '"His salary was 
 £371, out of which lie had to pro- 
 vide a French and an Italian 
 teacher. . . . Gray behaved libe- 
 rally to them ; but the habits of 
 the time made lecturing unneces- 
 sary." — Diet. Nat. Biog. 
 
 * Dodwell's rrxlcctiones Acade- 
 miae in Schold Jlistorices Cam- 
 demand, published 1C92, were 
 twenty-five in number — six devoted 
 to writers on the Auiru.stan age 
 
 generally, and nineteen to Spartian's 
 Life of Hadrian. 
 
 Ayliife's Antient and Present 
 State of the University of Oxford, 
 vol. ii. p. 18G, gives an account of 
 the founding of the Camden Lec- 
 tures, from which it appears that 
 in 1622 William Camden, Esq., 
 Clarencieux King-at-Arms, gave 
 the manor of Boxley, in Kent, as 
 a provision for a perpetual Reader 
 in History, "for whose stipend the 
 University now [1714 is the date of 
 Ayliife's book] receives £140 p. 
 an. But after a certain term of 
 years the Rents and profits of the 
 whole manor, amounting to £400 
 p. an., devolve to the IJniversity, 
 for the use and benefit of tliis jiro- 
 fessor. The Charter bears date 
 1G22." 
 
 Brokesby, in pp. 190-217 of the 
 Life, merely gives a synopsis of 
 these lectures. 
 
 B. B. (iii.), p. lOS, new edit., 
 under Camden, gives an account of 
 tlic foundation of tliis lectureship 
 in much the same terms.
 
 MAGDALEN COLLEGE. 73 
 
 the more diligent will compare the instructions which 
 they have heard in the school, with the volumes which 
 they peruse in their chamber. The advice of a skillful 
 professor will adapt a course of reading to every mind 
 and every situation ; his learning will remove difficulties 
 and solve objections ; his authority will discover, ad- 
 monish, and at last chastise the negligence of his 
 disciples ; and his vigilant enquiries will ascertain the 
 steps of their litterary progress. Whatsoever science he 
 professes, he may illustrate in a series of discourses, 
 composed in the leisure of his closet, pronounced on 
 public occasions and finally delivered to the press. I 
 observe with pleasure that, in the University of Oxford, 
 Dr. Lowth, with equal eloquence and erudition, has 
 executed this task, in his incomparable Prelections on 
 the Poetry of the Hebrews." 
 
 The College of S^ Mary Magdalen [it is vulgarly 
 pronounced IMaudlin] was founded in the fifteenth Century 
 by a Bishop of Winchester ; ^^ and now consists of a 
 President, forty fellows, and a number of inferior students. 
 It is esteemed one of the largest and most wealthy of 
 our Academical corporations, which may be compared 
 to the Benedictine Abbeys of Catholic countries; and 
 I have loosely heard that the estates belonging to 
 
 ^' Lowtli de sacra Hebraeorum poesi Prselect. Acadera. 1775, 
 8vo, 3rd edit. ; the first in 4to, in 1753. When delivered? 
 Interesting without Hebrew or faith — good abstract in Blair 
 (Lectm-es on Eh., Vol. ii. p. 385-406).* 
 
 '' William Patten of Wainfleet, Lord Chaucell.— B. of 
 Winchester founded Magdalen 1458 — merit under James IL, 
 zeal, privileges. Ayliffe, Hist, of Oxford, Vol. i. p. 342, etc.f 
 
 * Lectures on Rhetoric Mid Belles voted to the Poetry of the He- 
 Lettres, by Hugh Blair, D.D., brews. 
 F.R.S. Ed. Lecture XLI. is de- t See Appendix, 15, p. 102.
 
 74 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 Magdalen College, which are leased by those indulgent 
 landlords at small quit-rents and occasional fines, might 
 be raised in the hands of private avarice to an annual 
 revenue of near thirty thousand pounds. Our Colleges 
 are supposed to be schools of science as well as of education, 
 nor is it unreasonable to expect that a body of litterary 
 men, addicted to a life of celibacy, exempt from the care 
 of their own subsistence, and ani^jly provided with books, 
 should devote their leisure to the prosecution of study, 
 and that some effects of their studies should be mani- 
 fested to the World. The shelves of their library groan 
 under the weight of the Benedictine folios, of the editions 
 of the fathers, and the Collections of the middle ages, 
 which have issued from the single Abbey of St, Germain 
 des Prez at Paris.^*" A composition of Genius must be 
 the offspring of one mind ; but such works of industry as 
 may be divided among many hands, and must be con- 
 tinued during many years are the peculiar province of a 
 laborious community. If I enquire into the manufactures 
 of the monks of Magdalen, if I extend the enquiry to the 
 other Colleges of Oxford and Cambridge, a silent blush, 
 or a scornful frown, will be the only reply. The fellows 
 or monks of my time were decent easy men, who supinely 
 enjoyed the gifts of the founder ; their days were filled 
 by a series of uniform employments, the Chappel and the 
 Hall, the Coffee-house and the common room, till they 
 retired, weary and well satisfied, to a long slumber. From 
 the toil of reading or thinking, or writing, they had 
 
 ^° Lively picture in Hist, de I'Acad., torn. 27. p. 219 (from 
 Quirini's own Coininent., torn. i. p. 850 — Artificuiiiq. manns 
 inter se operinuq. laboreui niiratur — burnt till extinction 
 more or less.* 
 
 * See Appendix, IG, p. 102.
 
 LIFE AT MAGDALEN. 
 
 75 
 
 absolved their conscience, and tlie first shoots of learning 
 and ingenuity withered on the ground without yielding 
 any fruit to the owners or the public. [[The only student 
 was a young fellow (a future Bishop) who was deeply 
 immersed in the follies of the Hutchinsonian system ; * 
 the only author was an half-starved Chaplain, Ballard f 
 was his name — who begged subscriptions for some Memoirs 
 
 * This was Georo:e Home (1730- 
 1792), Fellow (1750) and subse- 
 quently President (1768) of Mag- 
 dalen College, Oxford (in which 
 office he was the predecessor of 
 Dr. Routh). In 1781 he was ap- 
 pointed Dean of Canterbury, and in 
 1790 Bishop of Norwich. His best- 
 known work is his Commentary on 
 the Psalms (1771). 
 
 He and AVilliam Jones of Nay- 
 land were the most distinguished 
 adherents of the Hutchinsonian 
 school. Along with a profound 
 reverence for Holy Scriptures, 
 which sometimes led them to be 
 called Methodists, the Hutchin- 
 sonians held some eccentric opinions 
 with regard to tlie origins of the 
 Hebrew language, and were op- 
 ponents of tlie Newtonian philo- 
 sophy. Dr. Home was the author 
 of several works in defence of these 
 tenets; e.g. A Fair, Candid, and 
 Impartial Statement of the Case 
 between Sir Isaac Neioton and 
 Mr. Hutchinson (published anony- 
 mously, 1753), A View of Mr. 
 Kennicotfs Method of correcting the 
 Hehreio Text (17G0), etc. Home 
 had been much influenced by the 
 early writings of William Law, and 
 deplored his " falling from the 
 heaven of Christianity into the 
 sink of Paganism, Quakerism, and 
 Socinianism." In 1758 he pub- 
 lished his Cautions to the Readers 
 of Mr. Laio, and loith very few 
 Varieties to the Readers of Baron 
 Sicedenhorg, and A Letter to a 
 Lady on the subject of Jacob 
 Behmen^s Writings. 
 
 " We drank tea with Dr. Home," 
 writes Boswell in 1776, " late Pre- 
 
 sident of Magdalen College and 
 Bishop of Norwich, of whose 
 abilities in different respects the 
 public has eminent proofs, and the 
 esteem annexed to whose character 
 was increased by knowing him per- 
 sonally." 
 
 t George Ballard (1706-1755) 
 was not a chaplain, but a choral 
 clerk of Magdalen College. He 
 had a remarkable career ; he com- 
 menced life as a stay-maker at 
 Campden, co. Gloucester, but dis- 
 played an aptitude for scholarship, 
 and especially for Saxon subjects. 
 By the assistance of Dr. Jenner, 
 President of Magdalen, he was ap- 
 pointed to a clerkship in the college, 
 and to the post of one of the Bedells 
 of the University. His health was 
 always infirm, and was much im- 
 paired by his close studies, includ- 
 ing the transcription of a Saxon 
 Dictionary, which he improved by 
 the addition of nearly 1000 words. 
 He also published, by subscription, 
 his Memoirs of Several Ladies of 
 Great Britain iclio have been cele- 
 brated for their Writings, or Shill 
 in tlie Learned Languages, Arts, 
 and Sciences (1752). This is the 
 book referred to in the text, but 
 Gibbon does not mention the fact 
 that he himself was among the 
 subscribers. BIr. Mores describes 
 Ballard as "a mantua-maker, a 
 person studious in English anti- 
 quities, laborious in his pursuits, a 
 Saxonist, and after quitting ex- 
 ternal ornaments of the sex, a 
 contemplator of their internal quali- 
 lications." — Bloxam's Magdalen 
 Coll. Register, vol. ii. p. 95 (1857).
 
 76 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 concerning the learned ladies of Great Britain.] As a 
 Gentleman-Commoner, I was sometimes* admitted to the 
 society of the fellows, and fondly expected that some ques- 
 tions of litterature would be the amusing and instructive 
 topics of their discourse. Their conversation stagnated in 
 a round of College business, Tory politics, personal stories, 
 and private scandal; their dull and deep potations 
 excused the brisk intemperance of Youth; and their 
 constitutional toasts were not expressive of the most 
 lively loyalty for the house of Hanover.^' A general 
 election was now approaching; the great Oxfordshire 
 contest already blazed with all the malevolence of party- 
 zeal : Magdalen College was devoutly attached to the 
 Old interest ; and the names of Wenman and Dashwood 
 were more frequently pronounced than those of Cicero 
 and Chrysostom. The example of the senior fellows 
 could not inspire the under-graduates with a liberal 
 spirit, a studious emulation ; and I cannot describe, as 
 I never knew, the discipline of the College. Some 
 duties may possibly have been imposed on the poor 
 scholars, whose ambition aspired to the peaceful honours 
 of a fellowship (" ascribi quietis ordinibus . . . Deorum ") ; 
 but no independent members were admitted below the 
 rank of a Gentleman-Commoner, and our velvet cap was 
 the cap of liberty. A tradition prevailed that some of 
 our predecessors had spoken Latin declamations in the 
 Hall, but of this ancient custom no vestige remained ; 
 the obvious methods of public exercises and examinations 
 were totally unknown; and I have never heard that 
 
 " Fellow's Journal, Idler, No. 33 not by Dr. Johuson— 
 his awe, nonsense, air ! f 
 
 * " Sometimes " in the MS., but f Sec Appendix, 17, p. 103. 
 
 scored through by Gibbon.
 
 OXFORD TUTORS. 11 
 
 either the President or the Society interfered in the 
 private ceconomy of the Tutors and their pupills. 
 
 The silence of the Oxford professors, which deprives 
 the Youth of public instruction, is imperfectly supplied 
 by the Tutors, as they are styled, of the several colleges. 
 Instead of confining themselves to a single science which 
 had satisfied the ambition of Burman or Bernouilli, they 
 teach, or promise to teach, either History, or Mathematics, 
 or ancient litterature, or moral philosophy ; and as it is 
 possible that they may be defective in all, it is highly 
 probable that of some they will be ignorant. They are 
 paid, indeed, by private contributions, but their appoint- 
 ment depends on the head of the house ; their diligence 
 is voluntary, and will consequently be languid, while the 
 pupills themselves and their parents are not indulged in 
 the liberty of choice or change. The first Tutor into 
 whose hands I was resigned, appears to have been one of 
 the best of the tribe : Dr. Waldegrave was a learned and 
 pious man, of a mild disposition, strict morals, and abste- 
 mious life, who seldom mingled in the politics or the 
 jollity of the College.* But his knowledge of the World 
 was confined to the University ; his learning was of the 
 last, rather than the present age ; his temper was indolent ; 
 his faculties, which were not of the first-rate, had been 
 relaxed by the climate; and he was satisfied, like his 
 fellows, with the slight and superficial discharge of an 
 important trust. As soon as my tutor had sounded the 
 insufficiency of his disciple in school -learning, he proposed 
 
 * Thomas "VValdegrave, born of Washington, in Sussex, where 
 
 1721 ; entered Lincoln College, he died, 178i. His Annotationes in 
 
 1728; Fellow of Magdalen, 1733 ; PZafoms Opera he describes as "the 
 
 D.D., 17'17 ; was Dean and Bursar ohlivia vital after the death of a 
 
 of the college. In July, 1752, he friend, and that friend a wife." 
 was presented to the college living
 
 78 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGrtAPEY. [Moioiu F. 
 
 that we should read every morning from ten to eleven 
 the comedies of Terence. The sum of my improvement in 
 the University of Oxford is confined to three or four Latin 
 plays ; and even the study of an elegant Classic which 
 might have been illustrated by a comparison of ancient 
 and modern theatres, was reduced to a dry and literal 
 interpretation of the Author's text. During the first 
 weeks I constantly attended these lessons in my tutor's 
 room ; but as they appeared equally devoid of profit and 
 pleasure, I was once tempted to try the experiment of a 
 formal apology. The apology was accepted with a smile. 
 I repeated the offence with less ceremony ; the excuse was 
 admitted with the same indulgence : the slightest motive 
 of lazyness or indisposition, the most trifling avocation 
 at home or abroad, was allowed as a worthy impediment, 
 nor did my tutor appear conscious of my absence or 
 neglect. Had the hour of lecture been constantly filled, 
 a single hour was a small portion of my Academic leisure. 
 No plan of study was recommended for my use; no 
 exercises were prescribed for his inspection ; and at the 
 most precious season of Youth, whole days and weeks 
 were suffered to elapse without labour or amusement, 
 without advice or account. I should have listened to the 
 voice of reason and of my tutor : his mild behaviour had 
 gained my confidence ; I preferred his society to that of 
 the;vouno:er students,* and in our evening walks to the top 
 of Heddington hill we freely conversed on a variety of 
 subjects. Since the days of Pocock and Hyde, Oriental 
 
 * "Mr. Finder, an ancientFellow laugh at his pocHliaiities ; and 
 
 of Mii^dalen Colle!:;e, and u con- were once informed by Finden, 
 
 temporary of Gibbon, told me that rather coarsely, but witli some 
 
 his superior abilitien were knuwu liumour, that, if tlieir heada were 
 
 to many, but that the gentlemen- entirely scooped. Gibbon liad brums 
 
 commoners, of whicli number Gib- sufhcient to supply them all."— 
 
 bon was one, were disposed to From Dr. liouth. — Miljian.
 
 VACATION STUDIES. 79 
 
 learning has always been the pride of Oxford, and I once 
 expressed an inclination to study Arabic. His prudence 
 discouraged this childish fancy ; but he neglected the 
 fair occasion of directing the ardour of a curious mind. 
 During my absence in the summer vacation, Dr. Walde- 
 grave accepted a college living at Washington, in Sussex, 
 and on my return I no longer found him at Oxford. 
 From that time I have lost sight of my first tutor ; but 
 at the end of thirty years (1781) he was still alive, and 
 the practise of exercise and temperance had entitled him 
 to an healthy old age. 
 
 The long recess between the Trinity and Michaelmas 
 terms empties the Colleges of Oxford as well as the courts 
 of Westminster. I spent at my father's house at Buriton 
 in Hampshire, the two months of August and September, 
 [| which, in the year 1752, were curtailed, to my great 
 surprize, of eleven days by the alteration of the style.] It 
 is wliimsical enough that as soon as I left Magdalen 
 college my taste for books began to revive, but it was 
 the same blind and boyish taste for the pursuit of exotic 
 history. Unprovided with original learning, unformed in 
 the habits of thinking, unskilled in the arts of composi- 
 tion, I resolved — to write a book. The title of this 
 first Essay, the Age of Sesostris, was perhaps suggested 
 by Voltaire's Age of Louis XIV., which was new and 
 popular ; but my sole object was to investigate the 
 probable date of the life and reign of the Conqueror of 
 Asia. I was then enamoured of Sir John Marsham's 
 Canon Chronicus,^^ an elaborate work of whose merits 
 
 18 
 
 Best edit. London, 1672, in folio — Hebrew Chronology- 
 
 * Sir John Marsham (1602-1685) Ehraicus, Grxcusi, et Buqnisitiones 
 wrote Chronicus Canon JEgyptiacus, — See Hallam's IAt.,iv. 191, 8vo ed.
 
 80 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiii F. 
 
 and defects I was not yet qualified to judge. According 
 to his specious, though narrow plan, I settled my Hero 
 about the time of Solomon, in the tenth Century before 
 the Christian JEva. It was therefore incumbent on me, 
 unless I would adopt Sir Isaac Newton's shorter Chrono- 
 logy, to remove a formidable objection ; and my solution, 
 for a youth of fifteen is not devoid of ingenuity. In his 
 version of the sacred books, ]Manetho the High priest has 
 identified Sethosis or Sesostris with the elder brother of 
 Danaus, who landed in Greece, according to the Parian 
 marble fifteen hundred and ten years before Christ.^^ But 
 in my supposition the High priest is guilty of a voluntary 
 error : flattery is the prolific parent of falsehood ; f and 
 falsehood, I will now add, is not incompatible with the 
 sacerdotal Character.] Manetho's history of Egypt is 
 dedicated to Ptolemy Philadelphus, who derived a fabulous 
 or illegitimate pedigree from the jMacedonian Kings of the 
 race of Hercules.-" Danaus is the ancestor of Hercules ; 
 and after the failure of the elder branch, his descendants, 
 the Ptolemies are the sole representatives of the Royal 
 family, and may claim by inheritance the Kingdom which 
 they hold by conquest. Such were myjuvenile discoveries ; 
 at a riper age I no longer presume to connect the Greek, 
 
 I'j 
 
 Fragments to Joscpli. contra Apion. in L. i. C. 15. 
 Tom. ii. p. 447.* Edit. Havercamp, real loss, see Fabricius 
 and Gerard Voscius-t 
 
 -" Quidam Phillippo genitnm esse credebant certnm 
 pellice ejus ortum constabat Q. C, L. ix. C. 8, cuiu not 
 Freinshein. 
 
 * See Appendix, 18, p. 103. in this edition, Man asseh ben Israel 
 
 t Jean Albert Fabricius (16G8- writes to M. Arnauld, "Toiichant 
 
 173G) wrote an appendix to the Flave Jusephe escrit en hebreu 
 
 "Works of .losejilius, -which is printed jdusieurs en doutent, et entro autrcs 
 
 in Havercamp's edition. ie trcs doctc & cclebro Gerard 
 
 In a letter (,in French), printed Yossius."
 
 LIFE AT MAGDALEN. 81 
 
 the Jewish, and the Egyptian antiquities which are lost 
 in a distant cloud ; nor is this the only instance in which 
 the belief and knowledge of the child are superseded by 
 the more rational ignorance of the man. During my stay 
 at Buriton my infant labour was diligently prosecuted, 
 without much interruption from company or country 
 diversions ; and I already heard the music of public 
 applause. The discovery of my own weakness was the 
 first symptoms of taste : on my return to Oxford the 
 Age of Sesostris was wisely relinquished ; but the im- 
 perfect sheets remained twenty years at the bottom of a 
 drawer, till in a general clearance of papers (November, 
 1772) they were committed to the flames. 
 
 After the departure of Dr. Waldegrave, I was trans- 
 ferred with the rest of his live stock to a senior fellow, 
 whose literary [and moral] character did not command 
 the respect of the College. Dr. [[Winchester *] well re- 
 membered that he had a salary to receive, and only forgot 
 that he had a duty to perform. Instead of guiding the 
 studies and watching over the behaviour of his disciple, 
 I was never summoned to attend even the ceremony of a 
 lecture ; and except one voluntary visit to his rooms, 
 during the eight months of his titular office, the tutor 
 and pupill lived in the same College as strangers to 
 each other. The want of experience, of advice, and of 
 occupation soon betrayed me into some improprieties of 
 
 * Thomas Winchester (1713- prominent, part in the religious 
 1780) was in succession chorister, controversies uf his time, especially 
 clerk, demy, and Fellow of Ma,^'- in opposition to The Confessional 
 dalen Oolleoje. In 1749 he became by Archdeacon Bhickburne, and 
 Rector of Horsington, co. Lincoln, Pictag Oxoniensis by Sir Richard 
 and in 1760 of Appleton, co. Bucks. Hill, Bart. For a full account of 
 A man of sound and good, if not him, see the Register of the Mem- 
 brilliant, talents, and a staunch bars of Magdalen College, Oxford, 
 supporter of the Church of England, by John Rouse Bloxam, D.D., vol. i. 
 he took an active, if not a very p. 150, et sqq., 1853. 
 
 G
 
 82 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 conduct, ill-chosen company, late hours, and incon- 
 siderate expence. My growing debts might be secret, 
 but my frequent absence was visible and scandalous ; and 
 a tour to Bath, a visit into Buckinghamshire, and four 
 excursions to London in the same winter, were costly 
 and dangerous frolicks. They were, indeed, without a 
 meaning, as without an excuse : the irksomeness of a 
 cloystered life repeatedly tempted me to wander ; but 
 my chief pleasure was that of travelling ; and I was too 
 young and bashful to enjoy, like a manly Oxonian in 
 town, the taverns and bagnios of Covent Garden.^^ In 
 all these excursions I eloped from Oxford ; I returned 
 to College ; in a few days I eloped again, as if I had 
 been an independent stranger in a hired lodging, without 
 once hearing the voice of admonition, without once 
 feeling the hand of controul. Yet my time was lost, my 
 expences were multiplied, my behaviour abroad was 
 unknown ; folly as well as vice should have awakened 
 the attention of my superiors, and my tender years would 
 have justified a more than ordinary degree of restraint 
 and discipline. 
 
 "'■ See Conoisseur No. XI. worked up in Colman's farce — 
 Pallas quas condidit ;irces ipsa colat, good.* 
 
 * Co;i/iomeMr, No. XI. : "On the . . . By a review I have lately 
 
 Excursions of Young Academics to made of the people in this great 
 
 London." metropolis, as Censor, I find tliat the 
 
 Pallas quas condidit arces town swarms with bookwits. The 
 
 Ipsa colat— ViBG. playhouses, parks, taverns, and 
 
 ^4Ti.T.ii 1 11-i 1 If eoft'eu-houses are thronged with 
 "Let Pallas dwell in towers herself ^j^^^ ^,j^^ ^^.^^^^ ,j,^^,, ^^^^^^ 
 
 nas raised. letteriMl beaux remain in London 
 
 " The principal character in is gpent in a continual round of 
 
 Steele's comedy of the Lying diversion. Their sphere, indeed, 
 
 Lover is young Bookwit, an Oxo- jg somewhat confined ; for they 
 
 man, who at once throws off the gtnerally eat, drink, and sleep 
 
 habit and manners of an academic, within the precincts of Covent 
 
 and assumes the dress, air, and Garden." 
 conversation of a man of the town.
 
 EARLY RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. 83 
 
 It might at least be expected that an Ecclesiastical 
 school should inculcate the orthodox principles of 
 Keligion. But our venerable Mother had contrived to 
 unite the opposite extremes of bigotry and indifference : 
 an heretic or unbeliever was a monster in her eyes ; but 
 she was always, or often, or sometimes remiss in the 
 spiritual education of her own children. According to 
 the statutes of the University, every student, before he is 
 matriculated, must subscribe his assent to the thirty- 
 nine articles of the Church of England, which are 
 signed by more than read, and read by more than believe 
 them. My insufficient age excused me, however, from 
 the immediate performance of this legal ceremony ; and 
 the Vice-Chancellor directed me to return, so soon as 
 I should have accomplished my fifteenth year, recom- 
 mendino: me in the mean while to the instruction of 
 my College. My College forgot to instruct, I forgot to 
 return, and was myself forgotten by the first Magistrate 
 of the University. Without a single lecture, either public 
 or private, either Christian or protestant, without any 
 Academical subscription, without any episcopal confirma- 
 tion, I was left, by the dim light of my Catechism, to 
 grope my way to the Chappel and communion-table, 
 where I was admitted without a question how far or by 
 what means I might be qualified to receive the sacrament. 
 Such almost incredible neglect was productive of the 
 worst mischiefs.^^ From my childhood I had been fond 
 
 " Ignorance, religious, of under graduates, who are soon 
 ordained — complaint of Dr. Prideaux — Dr. Busby oflered to 
 endow two Catechists — rejected by both Univers. — Confes- 
 sional, p. 435-440.* 
 
 * The Confessional, or a Full Utility, Edification and Success of 
 and Free Inquiry into the Bight, Establishing Systematical Confes-
 
 84 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu F. 
 
 of Eeligioiis disputation; my poor aunt has been often 
 puzzled by my objections to the mysteries which she 
 strove to believe ; nor had the elastic spring been totally 
 broken by the weight of the Atmosphere of Oxford. The 
 blind activity of idleness urged me to advance without 
 armour into the dangerous mazes of controversy, and at 
 the age of sixteen I bewildered myself in the errors of 
 the Church of Rome. 
 
 The progress of my conversion may tend to illustrate, 
 at least, the history of my own mind. It was not long 
 since Dr. Middleton's * free inquiry had sounded an 
 alarm in the Theological World ; much ink and much gall 
 had been spilt in the defence of the primitive miracles ; 
 and the two dullest of their champions were crowned with 
 Academic honours by the University of Oxford. The 
 name of Middleton was unpopular, and his proscription 
 very naturally tempted me to peruse his writings and 
 those of his antagonists.! His bold criticism, whicli 
 approaches the precipice of infidelity, produced on my 
 
 sions of Faith and Doctrine in Pro- to their knowledge in the doctrines 
 
 testani Cliurcltes. Publisliod 1770. and precepts of the Christian re- 
 
 Pp. 435-440. The author of this ligion. But this condition being 
 
 work, which was published anoiiy- rejected by Imth univtTsities, the 
 
 mously, was the llev. Francis lx;nefaction was rejected tlierewitli, 
 
 Blackburue, Archdeacon of Cleve- and the Church has ever since; 
 
 hind. suffered for the want of it." — Life 
 
 Dr. Prideaux complains that of Dr. Prideaux, p. 92. 
 "young men frequently come to * ConyersMiddleton (1683-1750), 
 the university without any know- the opiwnent of Bentley. His 
 ledge or tincture of religion at all, Litter to W((terland (17;!1) inl- 
 and have little opportunity of im- pugning the historical accuracy of 
 proving themselvt-s at all." — Life some of the books of the Old Testa- 
 of Dr. Pridi:anx, II. 01 (lliS). nient, and his Free Enquiry into 
 
 " Dr. Busby (offered to endow the Mtractdous Poirers which are 
 
 two catechetical lectures . . . pro- nuppn>>ed in hare fuJ)Kistcd in the 
 
 vided the undergraduntes sliould Chrixtinn Church (174!)), an attack 
 
 be obliged to attend, and ncjne of on the niiracles of the early Clui.-^- 
 
 them be admitteil to the de;:ree of tiaii C'hnrch, gave rise to prolonged 
 
 Bachelor of Arts till alter having and bitter controversy, 
 
 been examined by the Catechist as f I^r. Dodwell and Dr. Church.
 
 KELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES. 85 
 
 mind a singular effect ; and had I persevered in the 
 
 communion of Eome, I should now apply to my own 
 
 fortune the prediction of the Sibyll. 
 
 " Via prima saliitis, 
 Quod minimum reris, Graia pandetur ab Urbe." 
 
 The elegance of style and freedom of argument were 
 repelled by a shield of prejudice. I still revered the 
 characters, or rather the names, of the Saints and fathers 
 whom Dr. Middleton exposes, nor could he destroy my 
 implicit belief that the gift of miraculous powers was 
 continued in the Church during the first four or five 
 Centuries of Christianity. But I was unable to resist the 
 weight of historical evidence, that within the same period 
 most of the leading doctrines of Popery were already 
 introduced in Theory and practise ; nor was my conclusion 
 absurd, that Miracles are the test of truth, and that the 
 Church must be orthodox and pure, which was so often 
 approved by the visible interposition of the Deity. The 
 marvellous tales, which are so boldly attested by the 
 Basils and Chrysostoms, the Austins and Jeroms, com- 
 pelled me to embrace the superior merits of Celibacy, 
 the institution of the monastic life, the use of the sign 
 of the cross, of holy oil, and even of images, the invoca- 
 tion of Saints, the worship of relicks, the rudiments of 
 purgatory in prayers for the dead, and the tremendous 
 mystery of the sacrifice of the body and blood of Christ, 
 which insensibly swelled into the prodigy of Transub- 
 stantiation. In these dispositions, and already more than 
 half a convert, I formed an unluckly (sic) intimacy with 
 a young Gentleman of our College [[whose name I shall 
 spare]. With a character less resolute Mr. * had 
 
 * Moleswoitli.
 
 86 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 imbibed the same Keligious opinions, and some Popish 
 books, I know not througli what channel, were conveyed 
 into his possession. I read, I applauded, I believed ; 
 the English translations of two famous works of Bossuet, 
 Bishop of Meaux, the Exposition of the Catholic 
 doctrine, and the history of the Protestant variations, 
 atchieved my conversion, and I surely fell by a noble 
 hand. I have since examined the originals with a more 
 discerning eye, and shall not hesitate to pronounce that 
 Bossuet is, indeed, a master of all the weapons of con- 
 troversy. In the Exposition, a specious Apology, the 
 Orator assumes, with consummate art, the tone of candour 
 and simplicity, and the ten-horned Monster is transformed 
 at his magic touch into the milk-white hind, who must 
 be loved as soon as she is seen. In the historv, a 
 bold and well-aimed attack, he displays w ith an happy 
 mixture of narrative and argument, the faults and follies, 
 the changes and contradictions of our first Reformers, 
 whose Variations (as he dextrously contends) are the 
 mark of heretical error, while the perpetual Unity of 
 the Catholic Church is the sign and test of infallible 
 truth. To my actual feelings it seems incredible that 
 I could ever believe that I believed in Transub- 
 stantion ! * But my conqueror oppressed me witli 
 the sacramental words, " Hoc est corpus meum," and 
 dashed against [each other the figurative half-meanings 
 of the Protestant sects ; every t)bjecti()n was resolved 
 into Omnipotence, and after repeating at St. Mary's 
 the Athanasian creed, I humbly acquiesced in the 
 Mystery of the real presence. 
 
 * Tho word is generally spelt thus throughout the autobiographies by 
 Gibbon.
 
 JOINS THE ROMISH CHURCH. 87 
 
 " To take up half on trust, and half to try, 
 Name it not faith, but bungling bigotry. 
 Both knave and fool the merchant we may call, 
 To pay great sums and to compound the small ; 
 For who would break withiHeaven, and would not break for all ? " * 
 
 No sooner had I settled my new Keligion, than I resolved 
 to profess myself a Catholic. Youth is sincere and 
 impetuous, and a momentary glow of Enthusiasm had 
 raised me above all temporal considerations. 
 
 By the keen protestants who would gladly retaliate 
 the example of persecution, a clamour is raised of the 
 encrease of popery, and they are always loud to declaim 
 against the toleration of priests and Jesuits who pervert 
 so many of his Majesty's subjects from their Eeligion and 
 Allegiance. On the present occasion, the fall of one or 
 more of her sons directed this clamour against the Uni- 
 versity ; and it was confidently affirmed that Popish mis- 
 sionaries were suffered, under various disguises, to introduce 
 themselves into the Colleges of Oxford. But Qhe love of t 
 truth and justice enjoyns] me to declare that, as far as 
 relates to myself, this assertion is false, and that I never 
 conversed with a priest, or even with a papist, till my 
 resolution from books was absolutely fixed. In my last 
 excursion to London I addressed myself to a Eoman 
 Catholic bookseller in Eussel-street, | Covent Garden, 
 who recommended me to a priest of whose name and 
 order I am at present ignorant. § In our first interview 
 
 * The Hindi «'*^ ^^^ Panther, bon's conversion made some noise ; 
 
 i. 141. and Mr. Lewis, the Eoman Oatliolic 
 
 t " Justice obliges me " in Lord bookseller of Russell Street, Covent 
 
 SheflBeld's edition. Garden, was summoned before the 
 
 X Mr. Lewis. Privy Council and interrogated on 
 
 § His name was Baker, a Jesuit, the subject. This was communi- 
 
 and one of the chaplains of the cated by Mr. Lewis's son, 1814. — 
 
 Sardinian Ambassador. Mr. Gib- Lord Sheffield.
 
 88 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. Me.moir F. 
 
 lie soon discovered that persuasion was needless, and, 
 after sounding the motives and merits of my conversion, 
 he consented to admit me into the pale of the Church ; 
 and at his feet on the eighth of June, 1753, I solemnly, 
 though privately, abjured the errors of heresy. The 
 seduction of an English Youth of family and fortune was 
 an act of as much danger as glory ; but he bravely over- 
 looked the danger, of which I was not then sufficiently 
 informed. " Where a person is reconciled to the see of 
 Rome, or procures others to be reconciled, the offence," 
 says Blackstone, " amounts to High-treason." And if the 
 humanity of the age would prevent the execution of this 
 sanguinary statute, there were other laws, of a less odious 
 cast, which condemned the priest to perpetual imprison- 
 ment, and transferred the proselyte's estate to his nearest 
 relation. An elaborate controversial Epistle, approved by 
 my director and addressed to my father, announced and 
 justified the step which I had taken. My father was 
 neither a bigot nor a philosopher, but his affection de- 
 plored the loss of an only son, and his good sense was 
 astonished at my strange dej)arture from the Eeligion of 
 my Country. In the first sally of passion he divulged 
 a secret, which prudence might have suppressed, and the 
 gates of Magdalen College were for ever shut against 
 my return. Many years afterwards, when the name of 
 Gibbon was become as notorious as that of IMiddleton, 
 it was industriously whispered at Oxford that the historian 
 had formerly "turned Papist." IMy character stood ex- 
 posed to the reproach of inconstancy, and this invidious 
 topic would have been handled without mercy by my 
 opponents, could they have separated my cause from that 
 of the University. For my own part, I am proud of an
 
 CHILLINGWORTH. 89 
 
 honest sacrifice of interest to conscience ; I can never 
 blush if my tender mind was entangled in the sophistry 
 that seduced the acute and manly understandings of 
 Chillingworth and Bayle, who afterwards emerged 
 from superstition to scepticism. 
 
 While Charles the First governed England, and was 
 himself governed by a Catholic Queen, it cannot be denied 
 that the IMissionaries of Eome laboured with impunity 
 and success in the Court, the country, and even the 
 Universities. One of the sheep — 
 
 " Whom the grim Wolf, with privy paw, 
 Daily devours apace, and nothing said " — * 
 
 is Mr. William Chillingworth, master of arts, and fellow 
 of Trinity College, who, at the ripe age of twenty-eight 
 years, was persuaded to elope from Oxford to the English 
 seminary of Douay, in Flanders. Some disputes with 
 Fisher, a subtle Jesuit, might first awaken him from the 
 prejudices of education; but he yielded to his own 
 victorious argument, " That there must be somewhere 
 an infallible judge, and that the Church of Eome is the 
 only Christian society which either does or can pretend to 
 that character." After a short tryal of a few months, Mr. 
 Chillingworth was again tormented by religious scruples ; 
 he returned home, resumed his studies, unravelled his 
 mistakes, and delivered his mind from the yoke of 
 authority and superstition. His new creed was built on 
 the principle that the Bible is our sole judge, and private 
 reason our sole interpreter ; and he ably maintains this 
 principle in the Keligion of a protestant, a book (1634) 
 which, after startling the Doctors of Oxford, is still 
 
 * Miltou's Lycidas.
 
 90 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoi!: F. 
 
 esteemed the most solid defence of the Eeformation. 
 The learning, the virtue, the recent merits of the author 
 entitled him to fair preferment ; but the slave had now 
 broke his fetters, and the more he weighed the less was 
 he disposed to subscribe the thirty-nine articles of the 
 Church of England. In a private letter he declares with 
 all the energy of language that he could not subscribe 
 them without subscribing his own damnation, and that 
 if ever he should depart from this immoveable resolution, 
 he would allow his friends to think him a madman or 
 an atheist. As the letter is without a date, we cannot 
 ascertain the number of weeks or months that elapsed 
 between this passionate abhorrence and the Salisbury 
 register, which is still extant, " Ego Gulielmus Chilling- 
 worth, . . . omnibus hisce articulis et singulis in iisdem 
 contentis, volens et ex animo subscribo, et consensum 
 meum iisdem prsebeo. 20 die Julii, 1G38." But, alas ! 
 *' the Chancellor and prebendary of Sarum soon deviated 
 from his own subscrijjtion ; as he more deeply scrutinized 
 the article of the Trinity, neither KScripture nor tlie 
 primitive fathers could long uphold his orthodox belief, 
 and he could not but confess that the doctrine of Arius 
 is either a truth, or at least no damnable heresy." From 
 this middle region of the air, the descent of his reason 
 would naturally rest on the firmer ground of the Socinians ; 
 and, if we may credit a doubtful story and the [)opular 
 opinion, his anxious enquiries at last subsided in Philo- 
 sophic indifference. So conspicuous, however, were the 
 candour of his Nature and the innocence of his heart, 
 that this apparent levity did not affect the reputation 
 of Chillingworth. His frequent changes proceeded from 
 too nice an inquisition into truth. His doubts grew out
 
 BAYLE. 91 
 
 of himself; lie assisted them with all the strength of his 
 reason ; he was then too hard for himself ; but finding 
 as little quiet and repose in those victories, he quickly 
 recovered by a new appeal to his own judgement, so that 
 in all his^'sallies and retreats he was, in fact, his own 
 convert. 
 
 Bayle was the son of a Calvinist minister in a remote 
 province of France, at the foot of the Pyrenees. For the 
 benefit of education, the Protestants were tempted to 
 risk their children in the Catholic Universities ; and in 
 the twenty second year of his age, young Bayle was 
 seduced by the arts and arguments of the Jesuits of 
 Thoulouse. He remained about seventeen months (lOtli 
 March, 1669— 19th August, 1670) in their hands, a 
 voluntary captive ; and a letter to his parents, which the 
 new convert composed or subscribed (15th April, 1670,) 
 is darkly tinged with the spirit of Popery. But Nature had 
 designed him to think as he pleased, and to speak as he 
 thought : his piety was offended by the excessive worship 
 of creatures ; and the study of physics convinced him 
 of the impossibility of Transubstantion, which is abun- 
 dantly refuted by the testimony of our senses. His return 
 to the communion of a falling sect was a bold and dis- 
 interested step, that exposed him to the rigour of the 
 laws, and a speedy flight to Geneva protected him from 
 the resentment of his spiritual tyrants, unconscious as 
 they were of the full value of the prize which they had 
 lost. Had Bayle adhered to the Catholic Church, had 
 he embraced the Ecclesiastical profession, the Genius and 
 favour of such a proselyte might have aspired to wealth 
 and honours in his native country ; but the Hypocrite 
 would have found less happiness iu the comforts of a
 
 92 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir F. 
 
 benefice or the dignity of a mitre than he enjoyed at 
 Eotterdam in a private state of exile, indigence, and 
 freedom. Without a country, or a patron, or a prejudice, 
 he claimed the liberty, and subsisted by the labours, of 
 his pen : the inequality of his voluminous works is 
 explained and excused by his alternately writing for 
 himself, for the booksellers, and for posterity ; and if a 
 severe critic would reduce him to a single folio, that 
 relick, like the books of the Sybill, would become still 
 more valuable. A calm and lofty spectator of the Ee- 
 ligious tempest, the Philosopher of Eotterdam condemned 
 with equal firmness the persecution of Lewis XIV. and 
 the Eepublican maxims of the Calvinists, their vain 
 prophecies and the intolerant bigotry which sometimes 
 vexed his solitary retreat. In reviewing the controversies 
 of the times, he turned against each other the arguments 
 of the disputants : successively wielding the arms of the 
 Catholics and protestants, he proves that neither the way 
 of authority nor the way of examination can afford the 
 multitude any test of Eeligious truth ; and dexterously 
 concludes, that custom and education must be the sole 
 grounds of popular belief. The ancient paradox of 
 Plutarch, that Atheism is less pernicious than superstition, 
 acquires a tenfold vigour when it is adorned with the 
 colours of his wit, and pointed with the acuteness of his 
 logic. His critical Dictionary is a vast repository of facts 
 and opinions ; and he balances the false Eeligions in his 
 sceptical scales till the opposite quantities (if I may use 
 the language of Algebra) annihilate each other. The 
 wonderful power, which he so boldly exercised of assem- 
 bling doubts and objections had tempted him jocosely to 
 assume the title of the vtr/jfXrjytpcra Ztue — the cloud-
 
 THE OXFORD SYSTEM. 93 
 
 compelling Jove ; and in a conversation with the in- 
 genious 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 I may possibly have 
 provoked will prudently spare this plain narrative of my 
 studies, or rather of my idleness ; and of the unfortunate 
 event which shortened the term of my residence at 
 Oxford. But it may be suggested that my father was 
 unluckly 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 the University. I am not unwilling to believe 
 that some Tutors might have been found more active than 
 Dr. Waldegrave, and less contemptible than Dr. QWin- 
 chester.] fxVbout the same time, and in the same walk, 
 a Bentham was still treading in tlie footsteps of a Burton, 
 whose maxims he had adopted, and whose life he has 
 published. The Biographer, indeed, preferred the school 
 logic to the new Philosophy, Burgersdicius to Locke ; 
 and the Hero appears in his own writings a stiff and con- 
 ceited 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 pupills 
 what he knew, some Latin, some Greek, some Ethics and 
 IMetaphysics, referring them to proper masters for the 
 languages 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 conspicuous in the 
 
 * Afterwards Lord Stowell.
 
 94 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoih F. 
 
 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 
 Qof the present Archbishop of York, Dr. Markham, himself 
 an eminent scholar,*] a more regular discipline has been 
 introduced, as I am told, at Christ Church : a 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 who do honour to the College in which 
 they have been educated. According to the will of the 
 Donor, the profits of the second part of Lord Clarendon'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 im^^ortance ; 
 the laws of his country are the first science of an English- 
 man of rank and fortune, who is called to be a Magistrate, 
 and may hope to be a Legislator. This judicious institution 
 was coldly entertained by the graver Doctors, who com- 
 plained — I have heard the complaint — that it would take 
 the young people from their books ; but ]Mr. Viner's bene- 
 faction is not unprofitable, since it has at least produced 
 the excellent commentaries of Sir William Blackstone. 
 [|The manners and opinions of our Universities must 
 follow at a distance the progressive motion of the age ; 
 and some prejudices, which reason could not subdue, 
 have been slowly obliterated by time. The last genera- 
 tion of Jacobites is extinct ; " the right Divine of Kings 
 
 * In Lord SliefBeld's edition, " of the late Deans."
 
 OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE. 95 
 
 to govern wrong " is now exploded, even at Oxford ; and 
 the remains of Tory principles are rather salutary than 
 hurtful, at a time when the Constitution has nothing to 
 fear from the prerogative of the Crown, and can only be 
 injured by popular innovation. But the inveterate evils 
 which are derived from their birth and character must 
 still cleave to our Ecclesiastical corporations : the fashion 
 of the present day is not propitious, in England, to 
 discipline and oeconomy ; and even the exceptionable 
 mode of foreign education has been lately preferred by the 
 highest and most respectable authority in the Kingdom. 
 I shall only add that Cambridge appears to have been 
 less deeply infected than her sister with the vices of the 
 Cloyster ; her loyalty to the house of Hanover is of a 
 more early date, and the name and philosophy of her 
 immortal Newton were first honoured in his native 
 Academy.]
 
 96 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 APPENDIX TO MEMOIR F. 
 
 1. (p. 1.) The river Rotlier "on 
 its Kent side has Newenden, which 
 1 am almost perswaded was the 
 haven so long sought for, called by 
 the Notitia, Anderida." After de- 
 scribing how the place had been 
 taken, and the inhabitants had 
 been put to tlie sword by Hengist 
 and ^lla, he continues : " For 
 many ages after (as Huntingdon 
 tells us) there appeared nothing 
 but ruins; till under Edward the 
 first, the Friars Carmelites, just 
 come from Mount Carmel in Pales- 
 tine, and desiring solitary places 
 above all others, liad a little Monas- 
 tery built here at the charge of 
 Thomas Alhwjer, Kniglit ; upon 
 which a town presently sprung up, 
 and with respect to the old one that 
 
 had been demolished, began to be 
 called Nctcenden, i.e. a neto town 
 in a Valley. . . ." Lower down the 
 river, near its mouth, is Apuldore, 
 which " in the time of the Saxons, 
 An. 894, stood at the mouth of the 
 river Limene, as their Chronicle 
 tells us. . . . Now if the sea came 
 so lately as An. 894 to the town of 
 Apledore, in all probability five 
 hundred years be fore, in th e Romans' 
 time, it might come as far as 
 Newenden, the place of the city and 
 Castle of Anderida, erected here by 
 the Romans to repel the Saxon 
 Rovers; the sea here in all ages 
 having retired by degrees." — Cam- 
 den's Britannia, edited by Ed- 
 mund Gibson, D.D., Bishop of 
 London, 2nd edit., vol. i. p. 258. 
 
 2. (p. 5.) " Cette dame etait 
 ce qu'on appelle proprement une 
 beaute' Angloise ; pe'trie de lys et 
 de roses, de neige et de lait quant 
 aux couleurs ; faite de cire, a 
 regard des bras et des mains, de 
 la gorge et des pieds : niais tout 
 cela sans ame et sans air. . . . 
 La Nature en avoit fait une poupeo 
 des son enfance; et poupee jus(iu'a 
 la mort resta la blanche Weterdiall. 
 M. do Wetenball avoit etudie pour 
 etre d'eglise ; uiais son frere uine 
 s'etant laisse' uiourir dans le temps 
 que celui-ci finissoit ses etudes, au 
 lieu de prendre Ics ordres il prit 
 le chemin d'Angleterre, et Made- 
 moiselle Bedingfiehl, dont nous 
 parlous, pour femme. . . . Et 
 comme Hamilton la regardoit avec , 
 
 une attention qui paroissoit assez 
 tendre elle regardoit Hamilton 
 comme un homme assez propre au 
 petits projets dont elle etoit con- 
 venue avec sa conscience. . . . 
 Milord Muskerry avoit a deux ou 
 trois petits millcs de Tunbridge 
 inie belle maison, appele'e Summer- 
 hill. Mile. Hamilton apres avoir 
 passe huit ou dix jours a Peckham 
 no put se dispenser d'y venir 
 (kmeurer pendant le reste du 
 voyage. Elle oljtiut du Seigneur 
 Weteiihall que madanie sa femme 
 y vint aussi : et quittant le triste 
 Peckham et son ennuyeux seigneur, 
 cettc! petite cour fut e'tablic k 
 Summerhill." — ffiuvres de Gram- 
 mont. 3 Vols. 1805. (Vol. i. 
 pp. 33G-341, 345.)
 
 APPENDIX TO MEMOIR F. 
 
 97 
 
 3. (p. 15.) "Apres la mort de 
 Vital Michieli, second du nom, 
 qui fut tue le propre jour de 
 Pasques, ce peuple lasse' de la 
 lonp:ue domination de ses Dues 
 refirit le Gouvernement, et continua 
 pourtant d'elire un prince pour 
 donner plus de cre'dit aux afaires ; 
 mais il resserra son pouvoir a 
 un point, qu'il ne lui laissa pres- 
 que plus rien que le titre et la 
 presse'ance. Et tout se eaisoit alors 
 par le Grand Conseil qui etoit 
 compose de 470 citoiens, nommes 
 par 12 electeurs, tires des six 
 quartiers de la Ville et les 470 se 
 changoient tous les ons le jour de 
 Saint Michel, afin de contenter 
 tout le monde h. son tour. Ce qui 
 dura jusques au terns du Due 
 Pierre Gradenigue Second qui 
 reforma le Grand Conseil en 1298, 
 en I'aisant passer dans le Conseil 
 de Quarante qu'ils appelleut 
 Quarantania Criminale, une nou- 
 velleordonnance dont la teneur e'toit 
 que tous ceux qui dans cette anne'e- 
 
 la composoient le corps du Grand 
 Conseil ... en fussent, eux et 
 leurs descendans en perpetuite. . . . 
 Ce changement produisit, comme il 
 est ordinaire dans toutes les muta- 
 tions des Etats, la fameuse conjura- 
 tion des Quirins des Tiepoles et de 
 quelques autres families ancieunes 
 qui furent exclues totalement. 
 
 " Venise a done e'te gouverne' par 
 les Conseils et les Tribuns dans son 
 enfance. . . . Le peuple I'aiaut retiree 
 de la tutele des dues, prit la con- 
 duite de sa jeuuesse. . . . Sa 
 virilite a commence' sous les nobles, 
 et a dure' depuis la Reformation du 
 Gouvernement, qu'ils appellent II 
 Serrar di Consiglio par oil fiuit la 
 De'mocratie. . . . Quoiqu'il soit, 
 Venise a cet avantage de s'etre 
 maiiiteuue plus long-tems que 
 toutes les plus fameuses Eepub- 
 liques de I'Antiquite'." — IRsf. du 
 Gour. de Venue, par le Sieur 
 Amelot (le la Houssaye (1677), 
 pp. 3. 4, 6. 
 
 4. (p. 29.) "Pbillippe V. laissa, 
 coinme nous I'avons dit, des dettes 
 pour la vak'ur de quarante-cinq 
 millions de piastres (plus de cent 
 soixante-buit millions de livres tour- 
 nois). A sa mort, Ferdinand VI., son 
 fils & son successeur. Prince e'qui- 
 table & pieux, eflfraje d'un fardeau 
 si cnorme, flottant entre la crainte 
 de le faire supporter a I'Etat & le 
 ecrupule de frustrer ses cre'anciers 
 de leurs droits, assembla im Junta 
 compose'e d'Evequos, de Ministres 
 & de gens de loi, & lui proposa 
 cette question singuliere : Si un 
 Roi est te'nu d'acquitter les dettes 
 
 de son pre'de'cesseur ? Croira-t-on 
 qu'elle fut decide'e a la negative 
 par la pluralite, sous pre'texte que 
 I'Etat c'tait un patrimoine dont le 
 Souverain u'e'toit que I'usufruitier, 
 ifc ue re'pondoit que de ses proprea 
 ongagemens? Cette de'cision, centre 
 laquellere'clamoiental'envire'quite', 
 la raison & la politique, tranquil- 
 lisa la conscience du Monarque, & 
 legitima a ses yeux ce qui e'toit une 
 veritable bauqueroute. Le paye- 
 ment des dettes de L'Espagne fut 
 done entierement suspendu." — 
 Bourgoanne (or Burgoing), Etat 
 de VEspagne, vol. ii. p. 30. 
 
 ^. (p. 34.) " C'est i^ar le toucher 
 eeul que nous pouvons acquerir des 
 connoissances completes et re'elle-s, 
 c'est ce sens qui rectifie tous les 
 autres sens dont lesetfetsneseroient 
 que des illusions et ne produiroient 
 que des erreurs dans notre esprit, si 
 le toucher ne nous apprenait a juger. 
 Mais comment se fait le developpe- 
 ment de ce sens important? com- 
 
 ment nos premieres connoissances 
 arrivent-elles a notre ame ? n'avons- 
 nous pas oublie' tout ce qui s'est 
 passe' dauB les te'nebres de notre 
 enfance ? comment retrouverons- 
 nous la premiere trace de nos pen- 
 se'es ? n'y a-t-il pas meme de la 
 tcmerite a vouloir remonter jusque- 
 la ? Si la chose e'toit moius imjjor- 
 tante, on auroit raison de nous 
 
 -I- H
 
 98 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 blamer; mais elle est peut-etre, 
 plus que toute autre, digne de 
 nous occuper, et ne sait-on pas 
 qu'on doit faire des eft'orts toutes 
 les fois qu'on veut atteindre ii 
 quelque graud objet ? 
 
 " J'imagine done un homrae tel 
 qu'on pent croire qu'etoit le premier 
 homme au moment de la creation, 
 c'est-a-dire, un homme dont le corps 
 et les organes seroient parfaitement 
 forme's, mais qui s'eveilleroit tout 
 neuf pour lui-meme et pour tout ce 
 qui I'environne. Quels seroient 
 ses premiers mouvemens, ses pre- 
 mieres sensations, ses premiers 
 jugemens ! Si cet homme vouloit 
 nous faire I'histoire de ses pre- 
 
 mieres pense'es, qu'auroit-il Jl noua 
 dire ? quelle seroit cette histoire ? 
 Je ne puis me dispenser de la faire 
 jmrler lui-meme, afiii d'en reiidre 
 les faits plus scnsibles : ce recit 
 jjhilosophique, qui sera court, ne 
 sera pas uue digression inutile." — 
 Buffon, Histoire Naturelle, tome iii. 
 p. 363 (1750). 
 
 The foregoing sentences, to- 
 gether with the description of the 
 awakening sensations which follows 
 them, but which is too long for 
 quotation here, is apparently the 
 passage which Gibbon intended to 
 compare with the above lines of 
 Milton. Cf. Gibbon's own note G8 
 to Memoir E. 
 
 6. (p. 36.) Journal Britannique, 
 par M, Maty, Docteur en Philo- 
 sophie et en Medecine, et membre 
 de la Soeie'te' Royals de Londres. 
 12mo. Hague, 1754. 
 
 Mois de mars et d'avril, 1754. 
 
 The Analysis of Inoculation : 
 comprising the History, Theory, and 
 Practice of it; with an occasional 
 consideration of the most remarhahle 
 appearances in the Small-pox, by 
 J. Kirkpatrick, M.D. London, 
 1754. 
 
 In the course of a long review of 
 this work. Dr. Maty writes : " Ce 
 n'est pas a I'industrie humaine que 
 Mr. Kirkpatrick paroit tlispose' a 
 rapporter dans sa iv. section la 
 premiere decouverte de I'inocula- 
 tion. Les nations iixuoriintes de 
 I'Asie de qui nous tenons cette 
 operation en ignorent I'inventeur 
 et la date. Pylarini, IMe'decin 
 Italien, qui se trouvoit a Con- 
 
 stantinople en 1701 paroit y avoir 
 observe le premier cette me'thode 
 artificielle dout apres avoir verifie 
 les circonstances et les succes, il lit 
 I'essai sur quatre enfans d'un 
 Grec de ses amis. . . . Un memoire 
 Manuscript du feu Chevalier Hand 
 Sloane, que Mr. Ranby, a com- 
 munique' a noire auteur, nous 
 appreud que ce fut en consequence 
 d'une lettre que ce Chevalier avoit 
 e'crite a Mr. Sherard, Consul de la 
 Nation en Turquie, que la relation 
 de Pylarini fut compose'e et envoyea 
 a la Societe' Royale. Cette informa- 
 tion eut etc' negligee, si M""' fllon- 
 taigu e'pouse de I'Ambassadeur de 
 ce nom a. Constantinople n'y avoit 
 fait inoculer en 1717 son propro fils 
 age de six ans. . . . Cette dame a 
 I'honneur d'avoir introduit cette 
 pratique en Angleterre : Dux 
 foimina facti." 
 
 7. (p. 42.) Gustavus Adolphus, 
 during his campaign in 1032, had 
 to throw his troops across the Lech, 
 in face of Tilly's army, which occu- 
 pied a strong po.'fition on the oppo- 
 site bank. Dr. Walter Harte, in his 
 Life of Gustavus Adolphus, writes : 
 " Tlio construction aud tixiiig of 
 the bridge appeared more ditlicult 
 to his majesty than tlie lighting 
 part. He greatly disliked the ia- 
 
 equiility of the banks in respect of 
 height, which rendered a bridge 
 of boats or pontons inconvenient, 
 if not entirely usele?is ; and he like- 
 wise knew that the bed of the 
 river was a sort of cone inverted: 
 which intelligence hu procured by 
 various artitices, one in particular 
 extremely curious ; nevertheless I 
 shall decline relating it, having 
 some doubts concerning the antlien-
 
 APPENDIX TO MEMOIR F. 
 
 99 
 
 ticity of the uaiTativc." To this 
 is added the followiuj^ fo(jtnote : 
 *' It is to be seen in the Memoirs of 
 a Cavalier, 8vo, printed at Leeds 
 in Yorkshire, about th(j year 1740." 
 — A History of Gustavus Adolpltus, 
 Kuif] of Sweden, etc., by the Rev. 
 Walter Hartc, M. A. Third edition. 
 2 vols. 8vo. 1807. 
 
 Defne, in his Memoirs of a 
 Cacalier, relates that when Gus- 
 tavus Adolphus wished to ascertain 
 the depth of the river, one of his 
 
 soldiers, a sergeant of dragoons, 
 volunteered for the task, and going 
 down to the Lech, disguised as a 
 boor, and carrying a long pole, 
 entered into conversation with the 
 soldiers on the other bank, pretend- 
 ing that he wished to cross over, 
 and asking for their assistance. 
 In the end he thus obtained all the 
 information he required, and re- 
 turned to the Swedish camp in 
 safety. 
 
 8. (p. 42.) '^ Tho' he had been 
 father of nine children, we have only 
 ■an account of his eldest son, Edward 
 Pococke, who, under tlie doctor's 
 ■direction, published in 1G71, 4'", 
 ■with a Latin translation, an Arabic 
 piece, intitled Philosophus Autodi- 
 'dactus Sive Epistola Abu Jaafir 
 Ebn Tophail de Hai Ebn Yokdhan. 
 In qua ostenditur quomodo ex in- 
 feriorum contemplatione ad su- 
 periorum notitiam ratio humana 
 tiscendere possit. The design of 
 the autlior, who was a Mahometan 
 philosopher, is to shew by an in- 
 genious fiction how humau reason, 
 by observation and experience, 
 without any assistance, may arrive 
 at the knowledge of natural things, 
 and from thence rise to super- 
 aiatural ; particularly the know- 
 ledge of God and of a future 
 state. . . . 
 
 " The language concerning an 
 extraordinary union and intimate 
 ■conjunction with God, obtained by 
 a steady looking upon Him, with- 
 out the help of any external means, 
 is evidently the principle of the 
 Quietist ; and this principle in- 
 duced the Quakers to translate the 
 book into English, seeing there 
 was something in it wliich favoured 
 itheir enthusiastic notions ; and to 
 
 prevent any such mischief thereby, 
 Simon Ockley, M.A., Vicar of 
 Swavesey, in Cambridgeshire, gave 
 a new translation in 1711, 8™, 
 under the title. The Improvement 
 of human Reason, exhibited in the 
 Life of Hai Ebn Yolidhan, etc., 
 with an appendix in which the 
 possibility of man's attaining tho 
 true knowledge of God and things 
 necessary to salvation without in- 
 struciion is briefly considered. 
 
 "It appears from the introduc- 
 tion and several passages in tiie 
 original book that the author of it, 
 Abu Jaafir Ebu Tophail, had im- 
 bibed tliis notion ; and it was in 
 order to describe the nature of the 
 mystical union, as well as to re- 
 commend the means of attaining 
 it, that he undertook the treatise. 
 He also declares this was the true, 
 though mystical, sense of the philo- 
 sophy of Averroes, Avicen, Amer- 
 pace, Algazali, Alpliarabius, and 
 the best Mahometan philosophers, 
 who were all of them, therefor^', 
 what he calls mystics. . . . 
 
 " Dr. Pococke tells he has good 
 reason to think the author W83 
 contemporary with Averroes, who 
 died very old. Anno Heg. 595, or 
 Anno Dom. 11 98."— JSiogrr. Brit., 
 8.V. " Pococke." 
 
 9. (p. 44.) " Emile n'apprendra 
 jamais rien par cceur, pas memo 
 Aq6 fables, pas meme celles de La 
 Fontaine, toutes na'ives, toutes 
 ^harmantes qu'elles sont ; car les 
 imots clcs fables ue sont pas plus 
 
 les fables que les mots de I'histoire 
 ne sont I'histoire. Comment peut- 
 on h'avcugler assez pour appeler 
 les fables la morale des enfants. 
 sans songer que I'apologue, en les 
 amusant les abuse ; que, se'duits
 
 100 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 
 
 par la mensonse, ils laissent echap- 
 per la verite, et que ce qu'on 
 fait pour leur rendre I'instruction 
 agreable les erapeche d'en profiter ? 
 Les fables peuvent instruiro les 
 homines; mais il faut dire la 
 verite nue aux enfants ; sitot qu'on 
 la couvre d'un voile, ils ne se 
 donnent plus la peine de le lever. 
 On fait apprendre les fables de La 
 Fontaine It, tous les enfants, et il 
 
 n'y en a pas un seul qui les entende, 
 Quand ils les entendroient, ce serait 
 encore \ns ; car la morale en est 
 tellement mele'e et si dispropor- 
 tioiinee a leur age, qu'elle les por- 
 teroit plus an vice qu'k la vertu. 
 Ce sont encore la, direz vous, des 
 paradoxes. Suit ; mais voyons si 
 ce sont des ve'rites, etc., etc." — 
 (Kuvrei^ de Rousseau, vol. viii. p. 
 165, Paris. 20 vols. 1826. 
 
 10. Cp- 45.) " Amico arcta mecum 
 necessitudine conjuncto, quod in- 
 scripta mihi ipsius quaedam ad 
 seternitatem victura monumenta 
 testantur, alteram uberibus lachri- 
 mis deflendum cogor adjimgere, 
 Petrum Pitbceum Augustobonai 
 Tricassium natum, familia nobili 
 ex inferiore Neustria oriundum, 
 virnm nostra ajtate maximum, sive 
 probitatem morum et veram nee 
 fucatam pietatem, sive ingenium 
 excellens, exactamque et omnium 
 rerum quas perspectas habuit, 
 liabuit autem plus quam alius 
 quisquam multis retro sseculis, 
 reconditam cognitionem, et tum in 
 suis tum in alienis ceruendis acre 
 
 et ab omni livore purum judicium,, 
 spectes ... in literarum studiis 
 sic versatus est, ut, assidue exqui- 
 rendo et scrutando bibliotliecas, an- 
 tiquorum scripta vel a raendis vel 
 ab interitu vindicaret, vel alios, 
 quos in ea re aliquid posse judi- 
 cabit, exliortando, impellendo atque 
 juvando, nullo tempore noii aliquid 
 moveret ac pmmoveret ; sub ipsum 
 vitae exitum beati Ililarii frag- 
 mentis bistoricis, et Phsedri Au- 
 gusti liberti fabulis publicatis." — 
 De Thou (J. A.), Historia Sui 
 Temporis, vol. v. 
 
 Gibbon regarded De Thou as 
 " one of his masters." See Memoir 
 B, p. 104. 
 
 11. (p. 60.) " Ne parentes quidcm 
 recte possunt educare liberos, si 
 tantum metuantur. Prima cura 
 est amari, paulatim euccedit non 
 terror, sed liberalis quaedam reve- 
 rentia, quse plus habet ponderis 
 quam metus. 
 
 " Quam igitur belle prospicitur 
 his pueris, qui vix dum quadriuii 
 raittuntur in ludum literarium, ubi 
 pr£e8idetpr»eceptorignotus,agresti8, 
 ac moribus parum sobriis. interdum 
 ne cerebri quidem sani, frequenter 
 lunaticus, aut morbj comitiali ob- 
 noxius, aut leprae, quam nunc 
 viilgus scaljiem ^.jallicam apptdlat. 
 Neminem enim hodie tarn abjectum, 
 tam inutilem, tam nuUius rei vi- 
 demur^, quern vulgus non existimet 
 idoneuni nioderando ludo literario. 
 Atque illi se regnuin nactos rati, 
 rairumquam ferociant,(juod liabeaut 
 impiiiiun, non in belluas, ut incjuit 
 Comicus, sed in cam retatem, quam 
 oportebat otnni lenitate foveri. Di- 
 
 cas non esse scholam, sed cami- 
 ficinam,i3rseter crepitum ferularum, 
 prseter virgarum strepitum, praater 
 ejulatus ac singultus, prater atroces- 
 minns nihil illic auditur. Quid 
 aliud hinc discant pueri, quam 
 odisse literas ? Hoc odium ubi 
 semel insedit teneris animis, etiam 
 grande-sfacti abhorrent a studiis. . . . 
 " Gallis literatoribus secundum 
 Scotos nihil est plagosius. Hi 
 moniti resjiondero soleiit; cam Na- 
 tionem, quemndmodum do Phrygia 
 dictum est, uonnihil jilagis emen- 
 dari. Hoc au verum sit, alii 
 viderint, fateor tamen nonniliil in 
 Natione discrirainis esse, sed multo 
 magis in singulorem ingeniorum 
 jiroprietate : (Juosdam occidas po- 
 tius quam verberibus cmendcs; at 
 eosdem bonovolentia l)landisqr 
 monitis ducas quocun(i ; velis. Hac 
 indolf! fateor me puerum fuisse,. 
 quum Praecoptor, ciii prae cajteris 
 eram charus, quod diceret so ucscio-
 
 APPENDIX TO MEMOIR F. 
 
 101 
 
 •quid magna3 Spei tie me concipere, 
 niagis advigilaret, velletque tandem 
 experiri quam essem virgarum 
 patiens ; objecit commissum, de 
 quo nee somniaram unquam, ac 
 cfficidit — Ea res omnem studioi-um 
 amorem mihi excussit ; adeoq ; 
 dejecit puerilem animum, ut mini- 
 mum abfuerit quin dolore contabe- 
 scerem. Jam liinc mihi conjecta, 
 vir egregie, quam multa fselicissima 
 ingenia perdant isti Carnifices in- 
 <locti; sed doctrinsB persuasione 
 tumidi, morosi, vinoleuti, truces, 
 
 & vel anirai gratia csedunt ; nimi- 
 rum ingenio tarn truculento, ut ex 
 alieno cruciatu capiant voluptutem. 
 Hoc genus homines lamios aut 
 carnifices esse decuit, non pueritisB 
 formatores. Nee uUi crudelius 
 excarnilicant pueros quam qui nihil 
 habent quod illos doceant. Hi 
 quid agant in Scolis, nisi ut plagia 
 & jurgiis diem extraliant." — Desi- 
 derius Erasmus, Pueros de virtutem 
 ac Literas liberaliter Iiistituendos. 
 Opera. Lugd., 1703, fol. 504. 
 
 12. (p. 60.) "Under these two 
 excellent Masters of Paul's School ; 
 if there was any fault in the Man- 
 agement of it, it was in the Practice 
 of too much severity, owing a little 
 to the Roughness of that Age, and to 
 the established Customs of Cruelty. 
 Somewhat, too, may be attributed 
 to that austere temper of the 
 
 Founder, D. Colet; who verily 
 thought, there was a Necessity of 
 liarsli Discipline to humble the 
 Spirit of Boys, to inure them to 
 Hardship and prepare them for 
 Mortifications and other Sufferings 
 and Afliictions in the Worlil" — 
 Knights, Life of John Colet, p. 173. 
 
 18. (p. 64.) Dialogue VIII., » On 
 the Uses of Foreign Travel." In this 
 dialogue Mr. Louke is represented 
 .as defending the English mode 
 of education as practised at the 
 universities, against Lord Shaftes- 
 bury, who is an advocate of the 
 advantages of foreign travel. The 
 passage referred to is this — 
 
 " Mr. Locke. All this, my Lord, 
 is very well; yet, setting aside 
 a certain colouring of expression 
 which takes and amuses the imagi- 
 nation, I see but little to admire in 
 this picture ; certainly not enough 
 to make one regret the want of the 
 original, and seriously to prefer 
 
 this easy manner of breeding to 
 that stricter form which prevails in 
 our own universities : where the 
 day begins and ends with religious 
 offices ; where the diligence of the 
 youth is quickened and relieved, 
 in turn, by stated hours of study 
 and recreation ; where temperance 
 and sobriety are even convivial 
 virtues ; and the two extremes of 
 a festive jollity and unsocial gloom 
 are happily tempered by the de- 
 cencies of a common table ; where, 
 in a word, the discipline of Spartan 
 Halls and the civility of Athenian 
 Banquets are, or may be, united." 
 
 14. (p. 68.) Biogr. Brit., ed, 17G0, 
 s.v. Prideaux (Dr. Humphrey), p. 
 3434, note AA. 
 
 Having finished this work {Di- 
 rections to Qnirchwardens), he 
 (Prideaux) went on with his Con- 
 nection of the History of the Old 
 and New Testament, which he had 
 begun immediately upon drop- 
 ping the designed History of Ap- 
 Ijropriations. 
 
 The note on this passage states 
 that " while he was thus engaged, 
 Charles, Lord Viscount Townaend, 
 one of the Principal Secrataries 
 {sic) of State to King George the 
 First, meditating a design to in- 
 troduce a kind of Reformation in 
 the English Universities, consultetl 
 our Dean, who thereupon drew up 
 the plan for that purpose, and sent 
 to his Lordship, under the title of
 
 102 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 'Articles for the Reformntion of the 
 two Universities.' " [Then follows 
 the proposed schonie, under 68 
 heads or articles.] •' No doubt can 
 be made of the Dean's good inten- 
 tion in these articles ; but whoever 
 knows anything of the state of the 
 Universities, need not be told that 
 the sciieme is absolutely iraprac- 
 ticable. As an arefuraent that 
 
 proves too much, proves nothing r 
 so a schemn that aims at too much 
 loseth everytiiing." 
 
 A corresponding sketch was 
 drawn for Cambridge by Mr. W. 
 Whiston, under tiie title of " Emen- 
 danda in Academia." — Memoirs of 
 the Life of Mr. Whiston, p. 42, 
 et sqq., 2nd ed., 1753. 
 
 15. (p. 73.) "William Patten, the 
 Founder of this College, was born at 
 Wainfleet in Lincolnshire, where 
 liv'd his Father, Eicluird Patten, 
 and his Mother Margery, Daughter 
 of Richard Brereton, Knight, his 
 Father and Mother being both 
 descended from antient Families 
 in their respective Counties, had, 
 besides William, two other Sons, 
 tiie one named John, a Graduate 
 ill this University, and afterwards 
 Arolideacon of Surrey, and (as some 
 siiy) Dean of Chichester ; and 
 Richard of Baselow in Derbyshire. 
 William, surnamed Wainfleet, from 
 the place of his birth, according to 
 the custom of the monks in those 
 Times, was for the first Part of his 
 Education sent to Wickham-School 
 near Winchester, and from thence 
 remov'd to 0.\ford, tho' to what 
 College some have doubted, but 
 most probably to New-College, as 
 Tradition has dtliv'r' it down ; 
 others say to Merton, and that ho 
 was fcithur Chaplain or Post-Master 
 therein. He stay'd not long in 
 Oxford after he was promoted to 
 the Degree of a Bachelor in Di- 
 vinity, (a Degree in tliat Age not 
 so common as in the Present) but 
 was made chief Master of Win- 
 chester-School, (which is a vehe- 
 
 16. (p. 74.) "U anivaa Paris au 
 
 moisde mai 1711 ; tfepourchoisir un 
 sejour favorable tout a. la fois a sa 
 pie'te' & b, sa curiosite', 11 logea a St. 
 (termain-dcs-Prc's. Co que sent Ene'e 
 duns Virgile [" Arlificuinque manus 
 inter se operumque lalx)rem Mi- 
 ratur." — A'lueid, 1. 1. v. 455], lorsque 
 plein du desstin de butir une grandc 
 
 ment Presumption that he was a 
 Fellow of Wickham's College in 
 Oxford, it being a Post of good 
 Reputation and Profit, and never 
 given to any other than a Wick- 
 hamist) wherein he continued for 
 twelve years together, and was then 
 advanc'd by his good Patron K. 
 Henry VI., to be Provost of Eaton 
 College ; and lastly, on the 30th 
 July, 1447, he was created Bishop 
 of Winchester, over which he pre- 
 sided 39 years, in which time he 
 was for 9 years Lord High Chan- 
 cellor of England, viz. irom the 
 11th of October, 144i>, to 7th July, 
 1458, quitting this Office a little 
 before the Battle of Northampton. 
 He stuck close to the Interest of 
 his aforesaid Patron, so that he 
 was frown'd upon by King Edward 
 IV., and in the employments of 
 Bishop and Chancellor (as pre- 
 mised) he amassed together Money 
 enough to attempt great Designs, 
 and by some publick Work of 
 Charity to perpetuate his name to 
 after Ages ; and to this End he 
 first built a Ilall, and then a Col- 
 lege at Oxford, dedicating both 
 of them to »St. Mary Magdalen ; of 
 which in their proper Order." — 
 Aylitle, State of the University of 
 Oxford, p. 342. 
 
 ville, il arrive a Carthage, & qu'il 
 considere avec transport tant de 
 bras en monvement, tant de beaux 
 e'dilici'S qui s'e'levcnt ; le P. Quiriiii 
 le sentit en entrant dans cette 
 illustro Abbaye: on y travailloit 
 alors aux annalcs des Bc'ne'dictins, 
 a une traduction fran<;oise du nou- 
 veau Testament, ii un apparat de
 
 APPENDIX TO MEMOIR F. 
 
 103 
 
 la bibliotheqne des Peres, a I'his- 
 toire de Paris, a la collection des 
 Dccre'tales, an f>;lo8saire de Du 
 Caii^e, a des editions d'Origene, de 
 St. Basile, de St. Cyrille, & le P. 
 Baiidury rassembloit toutcs les 
 pieces de son Empire Oriental." 
 — Acad^inie Boyale : Des Inscrip- 
 
 tions et Belles Lettres, torn. 27, 
 p. 219. 
 
 The pag'^ of Quiriiii's Cmnmen- 
 tarii de Behun Fertineidibus ad 
 Amj. Mar. t-"'. B. E. Cnrdinalem 
 Quirinum is 85 of the 1849 edition, 
 and is merely a plain account of his 
 stay in Paris. 
 
 17. (p. 7G.) No. 33. Saturday, 
 Dec. 2, 1758, contains Tlie Journal 
 of a Senior Fellow or Genuine Idler 
 Just transmitted from Caiuhridge 
 1)1/ a facetious correspondent. It 
 profesyes to set forth day by day 
 and hour by hour the trivial and 
 .selliiih pursuits in which Um said 
 Fellow passed his time. In his 
 concluding remarks the author 
 writes — 
 
 '• I hope it will not bo concluded 
 from this specimen of academic 
 Jife, that I have attempted to decry 
 our Universities. If literature is 
 not the essential requi.-site of the 
 
 modern academic, I am yet per- 
 suaded that Cambridge and Oxford, 
 however degeui-rated, surpass the 
 fashionable academies of our metro- 
 polis and the gymnasia of foreign 
 countrifS. . . . There is at least 
 one very powerful incentive to 
 learning; 1 mean the Genius of 
 the place. . . . Englisli Universities 
 render their students virtuous at 
 least, by excluding all opportunities 
 of vice ; and by teaching them the 
 principles of the iJhurcli of Eng- 
 land, confirm them in those of true 
 Christianity." 
 
 18. (p. 80.) " Multoquo post tem- 
 })ore, Arrnais, qui in iEgypto f iierat 
 relictus, omnia contra quam frater 
 monuerat ne faceret, sine timore 
 faciebat. Nam & regina) vini infe- 
 rebat,aliisque coucubinisad libitum 
 misceri non cessabat : persuasusque 
 al) amicis corona utebatur, & contra 
 fratrem insurgebat. Is vero qui 
 cDUstitutus erat super sacra .lEgyp- 
 tiaca codicillos Setho.-^i misit, eum 
 de omnibus cortiorem faciens, quod- 
 que trater ipsius Arma'is contra 
 eum bellum movebat. Illico igitur 
 Pelu.sium reversus est, & proprium 
 tenuit rcgnum. Provincia vero ex 
 (^J us nomine appellata est .^gyptus, 
 (licit enim quod Sethosis quidem 
 /I'Jgyptus vocabatur, Armais autem 
 frater ejus Dauaus. 
 
 " 16. Atque haic quidem Ma- 
 netho. Ergo si tempus ad initam 
 aunorumistorumrationeraexigemus, 
 constabit omuino, quos Pastores ipsi 
 voeabant, majores nostros, annis 
 ante tribus nonaginta supra tre- 
 
 centos, ubi ex iEgypto migrassent 
 regionem illam iusedisse, quam 
 Danaus Argos venisset, qui tamen 
 ab Argivis pro antiquissimo cele- 
 bratur. Ita duo nobis eaque sane 
 prsecipua, hoc Manethonis quod 
 iEgyptiarum literarum iidem se- 
 quitur, testimonio confecta sunt : 
 alterum eos in .^gyptum aliunde 
 profectos esse ; alterum iiididem 
 ipsos alio commigrasse, quod etiam 
 postcrius adeo vetustum, ut Tro- 
 jana tempora annis prope mille 
 antecederet. Ista vero quae Ma- 
 netho non ex Uteris .^Egyptiaeis, 
 sed (sicut ipso professus est) ab 
 incertis avicioribus memorata, ad- 
 jecit, postea particulatim exeutiam, 
 ea mtndacia esse ostendens sine 
 verisimilitudine conticta." — Flavii 
 Josephi qnx reperiripotuerunt opera, 
 ovinia. . . . Collajit, diaposuit, et 
 post Jo. Hudsonmn . . . recensnit 
 Slrjehertus Havercampus. 2 vols., 
 folio, 1726.
 
 104 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 MY OWN LIFE.* 
 
 A SINCERE and simple narrative of my own life may 
 amuse some of my leisure hours, but it will expose me, 
 and perhaps with justice, to the imputation of vanity. 
 Yet I may judge, from the experience both of past and of 
 the present times, that the public is always curious to 
 hiow the men who have left behind them any image of 
 their minds : the most scanty accounts are compiled with 
 diligence and perused with eagerness ; and the student of 
 every class may derive a lesson or an example from the 
 lives most similar to his own, ^The author of an important 
 and successful work may hope without presumption that 
 he is not totally indifferent to his numerous readers:] my 
 name may hereafter be placed among the thousand articles 
 of a Biographia Britannica, and I must be conscious 
 that no one is so well qualified as myself to describe the 
 series of my thoughts and actions. The authority of my 
 masters, of the grave Thuanus and the philosoj^hic Hume, 
 might be sufficient to justify my design ; but it would 
 not be difficult to produce a long list of ancients and 
 modems who, in various forms, have exhibited their own 
 portraits. Such portraits are often the most interesting, 
 and sometimes the only interesting, parts of their 
 
 * Memoir B, from his birth till the eve of his journey into Italy in 
 176i.
 
 FAMILY HISTORY. 105 
 
 writings; and, if they be sincere, we seldom complain 
 of the minuteness or prolixity of these personal memorials. 
 The lives of the younger Pliny, of Petrarch, and of 
 Erasmus are expressed in the Epistles which they them- 
 selves have given to the World ; the Essays of Montague 
 and Sir William Temple bring us home to the houses and 
 bosoms of the authors ; we smile without contempt at the 
 headstrong passions of Benvenuto Cellini, and the gay 
 follies of Colley Gibber. The confessions of St. Austin 
 and Eousseau disclose the secrets of the human heart ; 
 the Commentaries of the learned Huet have survived his 
 Evangelical demonstration ; and the Memoirs of Goldoni 
 are more truly dramatic than his Italian comedies. The 
 Heretic and the Churchman are strongly marked in the 
 characters and fortunes of Whiston and Bishop Newton ; 
 and even the dullness of Michael de Marolles and Antony 
 Wood acquires some value from the faithful representation 
 of men and manners. That I am the equal or superior 
 of some of these Biographers the efforts of modesty or 
 affectation cannot force me to dissemble. 
 
 I was born at Putney, in the County of Surrey, 
 tiie twenty-seventh of xipril, OS., (the eighth of May, 
 NS.), in the year one thousand seven hundred and 
 thirty-seven ; the first child of the marriage of Edward 
 Gibbon, Esq., and of Judith Porten. My lot might have 
 been that of a slave, a savage, or a peasant ; nor can I 
 reflect without pleasure on the bounty of Nature, which 
 cast my birth in a free and civilized country, in an 
 age of science and Philosophy, in a family of honourable 
 rank, and decently endowed with the gifts of fortune. 
 
 [|0f this family tlie primitive seat was in the County of 
 Kent. It is proved by authentic records that as early as
 
 106 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 the year 1326 the Gibbons were possessed of lands in the 
 parish of Eolvenden, and it should seem that their ancient 
 patrimony, without much encrease or diminution, is still in 
 the hands of the elder branch. They are distinguished 
 by the title of Esquire, at a time when it was less pro- 
 miscuously bestowed ; and I continue to bear the Armorial 
 coat, the ancient symbol of their gentility : " A Lyon 
 rampant, gardant, between three scallop-shells. Argent on 
 a field Azure," The use of these arms about the time of 
 Queen Elizabeth is attested by the whimsical revenge of 
 Edmond Gibbon, Esq. : instead of the three scallop-shells, 
 he substituted, for himself only, three Ogresses, and these 
 female monsters were designed to represent his three 
 kinswomen, against whom he had maintained a lawsuit 
 for the patronage of the free school of Benenden, a 
 foundation of their common ancestors. In the beginning 
 of the seventeenth Century a younger branch of the 
 Gibbons, from which I descend, migrated from the country 
 to the city, from a rural to a commercial life ; nor am I 
 ashamed of an useful profession which has been long 
 since ennobled by the national good sense and the example 
 of the most ancient gentry of England. It would be as 
 easy as it might be tedious to enumerate our various 
 marriages, both in Kent and in London, with the most 
 respectable families — the Hextalls, the Ellenbriggs, the 
 Calverleys, the Phillips of Tenterden, the Berkleys of 
 Beauston, the AVhetnalls of East Beckham and of 
 Cheshire, the Edgars of Suffolk, and the Cromers 
 of Surrey, whose progenitor, William Cromer (in the years 
 1-113 and 1424), was twice Lord Mayor of the City of 
 London. By the females, I draw my pedigree from the 
 Lord kSay and Sele, who was Jjurtl High Treasurer of
 
 JOHN GIBBON: THE HERALD. 107 
 
 England under the reign of Henry the Sixth : he fell a 
 sacrifice to the blind fury of Jack Cade and his Kentish 
 Insurgents ; and if Shakespeare be a faithful historian, a 
 man of letters may be proud of his connection with the 
 Patron and Martyr of learning. But in the male line 
 I can discover only two persons who have left any monu- 
 ment more conspicuous than a gravestone in a parish 
 church. 
 
 I. In the year 1340, John Gibbon was Marmorarius 
 or Architect (the office of an Esquire), in the service of 
 Edward the Third ; he built Queensborough Castle, and 
 the royal grant of the profits of the passage between 
 Sandwich and Stoner, in the Isle of Thanet, is not the 
 reward of a vulgar mechanick. 
 
 II. John Gibbon, the brother, as it should appear, of 
 my great-grandfather Matthew, has exhibited the proofs of 
 his lively wit and extensive reading, which are not, indeed, 
 without some alloy of prejudice and enthusiasm. He 
 was born in 1629, and died at the age of ninety, after 
 having filled near fifty years the station in the College of 
 Heralds of Blue-mantle Poursuivant at Arms. I cannot 
 forbear to relate that in a voyage to Virginia in 1659, he 
 recognized, at a War-dance of the Indians, the colours and 
 symbols of his art which were painted on their naked 
 bodies ; nor will I suppress his whimsical conclusion, 
 " that Heraldry is engrafted naturally into the sense of 
 human race." He published at London, in 1682, his 
 Introductio ad Latinani Blazoniam, an English text 
 besprinkled with Latin sentences and verses of his own 
 composition ; and in this small but elaborate treatise, he 
 claims the invention of expressing the language of 
 Heraldry in a Classical idiom. But this domestic record.
 
 108 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 which illustrates the antiquity of his name and blood, 
 was lost in his own family, till, about two years ago, it 
 was sent me, by a singular chance, from Wolfenbuttel in 
 Germany to Lausanne in Switzerland. The science of 
 hereditary distinctions is favourable to Monarchy, and 
 Blue-mantle, like the rest of his kindred, was a zealous 
 Tory both in Church and State. 
 
 My grandfather, Edward Gibbon, a man of sense and 
 business, was of some note in the political as well as the 
 commercial World, and under Lord Oxford's * administra- 
 tion he exercised the office of one of the Commissioners of 
 the Customs near four years, till the death of Queen Anne. 
 Before he was elected a Director of the South Sea Com- 
 pany (1716) he had acquired, chiefly by his own industry, 
 a fortune of sixty thousand pounds ; but in the calamitous 
 year twenty he suffered with his brethren, without a tryal, 
 by an arbitrary bill of pains and penalties. Of the mis- 
 chiefs or merits of the South Sea Scheme, I am neither a 
 competent nor an unbyassed judge ; but if the national 
 calamity was contrived by the fraud of the Directors, I 
 fear that my grandfather's abilities will not leave him the 
 apology of ignorance or error. WTiatever might be his 
 guilt, it could neither be proved by evidence nor punished 
 by law ; the proceedings of the house of Commons are 
 stained with personal and party malice, and few will be 
 found, in these days of moderation and justice, to applaud 
 an act of parliamentary tyranny which was not excused 
 by tlie defence of the public safety. After the Directors 
 had delivered on oath the amount of their respective 
 
 * Robert Harley, Chancellor of surer 1711; dismissed from office 
 the Exchequer 1710 ; created Earl 1714. 
 of Oxford, and became Lord Trea-
 
 FAMILY HISTORY. 109' 
 
 fortunes, the measure of their future allowances was 
 determined not by any judicial enquiry, but by hasty and 
 capricious votes on the character and conduct of each 
 individual. My grandfather had estimated his property 
 at the ample sum of one hundred and six thousand five- 
 hundred and forty-three pounds five shillings and six- 
 pence ; and when the question was put whether fifteen or 
 ten thousand pounds should be assigned to Mr. Gibbon^ 
 it was carried without a division for the smaller allowance. 
 By his skill and industry this remnant was again multi- 
 plied ; it is suspected that he had found means to elude> 
 the impending stroke by praevious settlements and secret 
 conveyance, and at the time of his death (at Christmas, 
 1736) he could not be less opulent than he had been, 
 before the South Sea Calamity. Besides his landed 
 Estates in Hampshire and Buckinghamshire, besides large- 
 sums which were employed in trade or vested in stock, 
 he had purchased a spacious house and gardens at Putney, 
 in Surry, where he lived with decent hospitality and 
 a respectable character. His wife, my grandmother, was 
 of the name of Acton, an ancient and honourable name 
 in Shropshire ; and he had given his sister to Sir Whit- 
 more Acton, the head of the family, and father of Sir 
 Eichard, the present baronet. A younger branch is 
 settled abroad, and it is with pleasure that I acknow- 
 ledge for my cousin the Chevalier or General Acton, 
 the favourite minister of the King of the two Sicilies. 
 By my grandfather's last Will, his two daughters 
 were enriched at the expence of his son, to whose- 
 marriage he was not perfectly reconciled. Of my two 
 aunts, Catherine became the wife of Mr. Edward Elliston, 
 an East India Captain ; their daughter and heiress,.
 
 110 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 Catherine, was married in the year 1756 to Edward 
 Eliot, Esq. (now Lord Eliot), of Port Eliot, in the county 
 of Cornwall, and their three sons are my nearest relations 
 on the father's side. A life of devotion and celibacy 
 was the choice of my aunt, Mrs. Hester Gibbon,* who, at 
 the age of eighty-five, still resides in a hermitage at 
 Cliffe, in Northamptonshire, having survived many years 
 her spiritual guide and faithful companion, IMr. William 
 Law. In his Serious Call, the characters of Flavia 
 and Miranda, of the profane and the pious sister, are 
 admirably drawn by a writer of Genius who had studied 
 and renounced the World. 
 
 The same Mr. William Law was domestic tutor to my 
 father, who was born in the year 1707. His education 
 was liberal, at Westminster School, and at Emanuel 
 College in the University of Cambridge ; and he was 
 afterwards permitted to visit Paris, and some parts of 
 France and Italy. On his return home the gay youth 
 despised the mercantile profession of his ancestors, and 
 after his father's death he enjoyed, and perhaps abused, 
 the gifts of independence and fortune. He was twice 
 chosen a Member of Parliament, at the general elections 
 of 1734 and 1740 : at the former he obtained an easy 
 seat for the borough of Petersfield, and at the latter he 
 prevailed after a sharp and expensive contest for the 
 town and county of Southampton. The principles of 
 his family, and the memory of his father's wrongs, 
 engaged him in a strenuous, though silent, opposition 
 against Sir Eobert Wal])ole : my father steadily adhered 
 to the party of the Tories, or Country Gentlemen ; with 
 
 * She died in 1790, aged eighty-six ; was buried beside Wm. Law, who 
 died April d, 1701.
 
 CATHERINE PORTEN. Ill 
 
 them he gave many a vote, and with them he drank 
 many a bottle. He loved and married* a young lady 
 of the neighbourhood, Miss Judith Porten ; but in his 
 father's eyes the deficiency of fortune was not com- 
 pensated by the superior qualifications of beauty, virtue, 
 and understanding. By her he had seven children, six 
 sons and a daughter, all of whom, except myself, died 
 in their infancy. After an happy union of ten years, 
 she was snatched away by an untimely death : his afflic- 
 tion was deep and permanent, and he soon retired to his 
 estate at Buriton, in Hampshire, from the business and 
 pleasures of the World. Although I retain a faint remem- 
 brance of her person, I have never known in its full 
 extent the inestimable blessing of a mother. But her 
 loss was amply supplied by her sister, my aunt, Mrs. 
 Catherine Porten, to whose tender care I owe the pre- 
 servation of my infancy and the first dawnings of my 
 reason, and at whose name I feel a tear of gratitude 
 trickling down my cheek. Their common father, Mr. 
 James Porten of Putney, was a merchant of doubtful 
 credit, which soon ended in a Bankruptcy. His son, 
 Sir Stanier Porten, is still alive, and barely alive : merit 
 and industry could alone raise him to the honourable 
 stations of Consul-General in Spain, Secretary to the 
 Embassy at Paris, Under-Secretary of State, and Com- 
 missioner of the Excise, which he has successively filled. 
 
 According to the calculations of Monsieur de Buffon, 
 about half the infants that are born are cut off in 
 their infancy, before they have completed their eighth 
 year ; and the chances that I should not live to 
 
 * In 173G.
 
 112 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu B. 
 
 compose this narrative were, at the time of my birth, 
 in the proportion of above three to one. Such may 
 be the general probabilities of human life, but the 
 ordinary dangers of infancy were multiplied far beyond 
 this measure by my personal infirmities ; and so little 
 hope did my parents entertain, that after bestowing at 
 my baptism the favourite appellation of Edward, they 
 provided a substitute, in case of my departure, by 
 successively adding it to the Christian names of my 
 younger brothers. ]\Iy poor Aunt Porten has often told 
 me, with tears in her eyes, how I was almost starved 
 by a nurse who had lost her milk, and how long she 
 trembled lest my crazy frame, which is now of the 
 common shape, should be for ever crooked and deformed. 
 From one dangerous malady, the small-pox, I was indeed 
 rescued by the practice of inoculation, which had been 
 recently introduced into England, and was still opposed 
 by Theological, medical, and even j^olitical prejudice. 
 But it is only against the small-pox that a preservative 
 has been found : and I could recapitulate from memory 
 or hearsay almost every disease which afflicted my child- 
 hood — feavers and lethargies, a fistula in the eye, a 
 tendency to a dropsical and consumptive habit, a con- 
 traction of the nerves, with a variety of nameless dis- 
 orders ; and, as if Nature was not sufficient without the 
 concurrence of accident, I was once bit by a dog most 
 veliemently suspected of madness. From Sloane and 
 Mead to AVard and the Chevalier Taylor, every practi- 
 tioner was alternately summoned : the fees of Doctors 
 were swelled by the bills of Apothecaries and Surgeons ; 
 there was a time when I swallowed almost as much 
 physick as food, and my body is still marked with tlie
 
 ME. JOHN KIRKBY. 113 
 
 scars of bleeding, issues, and caustics. From these ills 
 and from these remedies I have wonderfully escaped. 
 Instead of growing with my growth and strengthening 
 with my strength, my complaints, as I advanced to the 
 age of puberty, insensibly disappeared. I have never 
 known the insolence of active and vigorous health ; but 
 my constitution has ripened to a sound and temperate 
 maturity, and since the age of fifteen I have seldom 
 required the serious advice of a Physician. 
 
 The first moment of animal life may be dated from 
 the first pulsation of the heart in the human foetus ; 
 but the nine months which we pass in a dark and watery 
 prison, and the first years after we have seen the light 
 and breathed the air of this world, must be substracted 
 from the period of our rational existence. When I strive 
 to ascend into the night and oblivion of infancy, the 
 most early circumstance which I can connect witli any 
 known sera is my father's contest and election for 
 Southampton. At that time (1740) I was about three 
 years of age : I had already acquired the familiar use 
 of my mother-tongue, and I was soon instructed in the 
 elements of reading and writing, which in this age of 
 learning are almost as universal as those of language. 
 In the seventh year of my age, after some lessons at a 
 day-school at Putney, I was delivered to the care of a 
 domestic tutor. His name was Mr. John Kirkby, his 
 profession Ecclesiastical, his principles those of a Non- 
 juror, and it was on his omission of the prayer for the 
 Koyal family that loyalty or prudence obliged my father 
 to dismiss him from his house. A child is incapable 
 of estimating the learning and genius of his preceptor ; 
 but at the end of four and forty years, I can discern 
 
 I
 
 114 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 tbem in his writings, and these writings were peculiarly 
 adapted to the task of education. 
 
 In the year 1745 he published Automatlies, a Philo- 
 sophical romance, in which the self-taught Philosopher 
 grows to manhood, virtue, and science on a desert 
 island ; and in the month of November of the same year, 
 he dedicated to my father, as a testimony of gratitude, 
 his treatise on the English and Latin Grammar, 
 Besides the rudiments of the two languages, I imbibed 
 with ease the rules of simple and compound Arithmetic ; 
 my ready skill in numbers and calculations was applauded, 
 and had I cultivated the early taste, the author of history 
 might have been lost in the Mathematician. 
 
 After this short tryal of domestic tuition my father 
 adopted the easy and customary mode of education, and 
 in a lucid interval of health I was sent to a school at 
 Kingston, consisting of about seventy scholars, under the 
 care of Dr. Woodson * and his assistants. As often as I 
 have since passed over Putney Common, I have always 
 noticed the spot where my mother, as we drove along 
 in the coach, exhorted me to remember that I was going 
 into the world, and must learn to think and act for myself.. 
 The expression may appear burlesque, but there is not 
 in the course of life a more remarkable change than the 
 removal of a child (I was then about eight years old) 
 from the freedom and luxury of a wealthy house to the 
 frugal diet and strict subordination of a school ; from 
 the tenderness of parents and the obsequiousness of 
 servants to the rude familiarity of his equals, the insolent 
 tyranny of his seniors, and the rod, perhaps, of a cruel 
 
 * Richard Wooddcadon ; see note, p. 43.
 
 SCHOOL DAYS. 115 
 
 and capricious paedagogue. Such hardships may be useful 
 to steel the mind and body against the assaults of 
 fortune, but I shall never regret the boyish felicity which 
 those may praise who are dissatisfied with the present 
 liour. Of a timid and reserved disposition, I was 
 astonished by the crowd and tumult of the new scene ; 
 my want of strength and activity disabled me from 
 joyuing in the sports of the play-field ; nor have I forgot 
 how often, in the year forty-five, I was reviled and 
 buffetted for the sins of my Tory ancestors. By the 
 common methods of discipline, at the expence of many 
 tears and some blood, I purchased the knowledge of the 
 Latin syntax. Not long since I was still possessed of 
 the dirty Volumes of Phjedrus, Ovid, and Cornelius 
 Nepos, which I painfully construed and darkly under- 
 stood; they might have suggested the most pleasing 
 lessons of taste, mythology, and history, which a rational 
 teacher would have adapted to the capacity of a child. 
 
 From Kingston I was recalled on my mother's death ; 
 nor would my father have entertained a thought of a 
 public school, unless he could have placed me under the 
 watchful and affectionate eye of my aunt, Mrs. Porten. 
 Her father's bankrupcy left her destitute of fortune, and 
 her noble spirit, scorning a life of obligation and depend- 
 ence, preferred the obscure industry of keeping a board- 
 ing-house at Westminster, where slie laboriously earned 
 a competency for her old age. In her house in College 
 Street and at the adjacent school I passed two years and 
 a half— from January, 1748, to August, 1750— nor could I 
 rise to the third form without improving my acquaint- 
 ance with the Latin Classics. But my studies were 
 interrupted by long and frequent illness ; the labour of
 
 116 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 two masters (Drs. Nichols and Johnson *) and of half a 
 dozen Ushers was inadequate to the instruction of five 
 hundred boys, and the slow march of public exercises 
 must be proportioned to the lowest degree of ability and 
 application. From this seminary, which has produced 
 so many eminent persons, I was unfortunately removed 
 before my style or my ear could be formed by the habits 
 of Latin composition in prose and verse ; before I could 
 taste the beauties of eloquence and poetry ; before I had 
 entered on the rudiments of the Greek language, and 
 before my childish intimacies had ripened into serious 
 and solid friendships. The care of my education became 
 subordinate to that of my health ; during two years 
 (1750-1752) I was moved by my father from place to 
 place. I spent many months at Bath and Winchester 
 for the benefit of the waters or of medical advice ; all 
 study was often interdicted, nor could I derive much 
 knowledge from the rare and occasional lessons of such 
 teachers as could be found on the spot. During the 
 months of February and March, 1751, I resided at Esher, 
 in Surry, in the house of the Eeverend Mr. Philip 
 Francis ; and the translator of Horace might have 
 taught me to relish the Latin poets, had not my friends 
 discovered in a few weeks that he preferred the pleasures 
 of London to the instruction of his pupils. At length, 
 as my puerile disorders aj)peared to abate, my father was 
 persuaded to place me, without sufficient preparation, 
 
 * For John Nicoll, s^ee note, p. 50. afterwards was Bishop of Glou- 
 
 JameB Johnson became Bocoud cester (1752), and subsequently of 
 
 master in 1733, and reeignerl the Worcester (175!)), and died from 
 
 post in 1748, on beinj? appointed the eflects of a fall Iroui his horse 
 
 ohaplain to George II., whom ho in 1774. 
 accompanied to Hanover. He
 
 YOUTHFUL STUDIES. 117 
 
 at Magdalen College, in the University of Oxford, where 
 I was matriculated as a Gentleman-Commoner on the 
 third of A]3ril, 1752, before I had compleated the fifteenth 
 year of my Age. 
 
 It is on the tender and vacant mind that the first 
 characters of science and language are most deeply 
 engraved ; and I am often conscious that the defects of 
 my first education have not been perfectly supplied by 
 the voluntary labour of my riper years. Yet, in my pro- 
 gress from infancy to the age of puberty, the faculties of 
 memory and reason were insensibly fortified, my stock 
 of ideas was encreased, and I soon discovered the spirit 
 of enquiry and the love of books to which I owe the 
 happiness of my life. My aunt, Mrs. Porten, whom I 
 must always mention with respectfull gratitude, possessed 
 a clear and manly understanding, and her natural taste 
 was improved by the perusal of the best authors in the 
 English language. In sickness or in health I was often 
 resigned to her care, and my long vacations from school 
 were chiefly passed in her father's house near the bridge 
 and churchyard at Putney. She was truly my mother, 
 she became my friend : all distance and reserve were 
 banished between us ; we freely conversed on the most 
 familiar or abstruse subjects, and it was her delight and 
 reward to observe the first shoots of my childish fancy. 
 During many hours, as she sat anxious and watchful by 
 my bedside, have I listened to the books which she read 
 and the stories which she related ; and a favourite tale 
 from the English translation of Hippolitus, Earl of 
 Douglas, is still present to my memory : the cavern 
 of the winds, the palace of felicity, and the fatal 
 moment, at the end of three months, or three Centuries,
 
 118 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik B. 
 
 in "which Prince Adolphns is overtaken by old time, 
 who had worn out so many pairs of wings in the fruitless 
 chase. I soon tasted the Arabian nights entertain- 
 ments — a book of all ages, since in my present maturity 
 T can revolve without contempt that pleasing medley 
 of Oriental manners and supernatural fictions. But it is 
 in rude ages and to youthful minds that the marvellous 
 is most attractive : the decoration of the imaginary world 
 is more splendid, its events more interesting, its laws 
 more — more consonant to justice and virtue, and our 
 ignorance is easily reconciled to the violation of pro- 
 bability and truth. From these tales I rose to the 
 iather of jjoetry, but I could only embrace the phantom 
 of Homer; nor was I then capable of discerning that 
 Pope's translation is a portrait endowed with every merit, 
 except likeness to the original. His elegant and sonorous 
 verse I repeated with emphasis, and retained without 
 labour. I ^\as delighted with the exploits of the Iliad, 
 and the adventures of the Odyssey ; the Heroes of the 
 Trojan war soon became my intimate acquaintance, and 
 I often disputed with my aunt on the characters of 
 Hector and Achilles. From Pope's Homer to Dryden's 
 Virgil was an easy transition ; but I know not how, by 
 the fault of the author or the translator or the reader, 
 the pious jiEneas less forcibly seized on my imagination ; 
 and I could read Avith more pleasure some parts of the 
 Metamorphoses, tlie fall of Phaethon, and the speeches 
 of Ajax and Ulysses in the old version of »Sandys's Ovid. 
 Our English writers of poetry, Romances, history, and 
 travels were my daily and indiscriminate food ; my 
 aunt's partiality encouraged me to open the works of 
 philosophy and divinity least adapted to the capacity
 
 EARLY TASTE FOR READING. 119 
 
 of a cliild, but I was either too young or too old to 
 partake of her enthusiasm for the Characteristics of 
 Shaftsbury. During the nine months (from March to 
 December, 1747) between my grandfather's absconding 
 and the sale of his effects, I rioted without controul in 
 his library, which had been hitherto locked, and I should 
 distinguish this period, the eleventh year of my age, 
 by the plentiful nourishment and rapid growth of my 
 mind. 
 
 Yet my reason was not sufficiently informed to 
 understand the value and regret the loss of the four 
 succeeding years (1748-1752), from my first introduction 
 at Westminster to my settlement at Oxford. Instead of 
 repining at my long and frequent confinement to the 
 chamber or the couch, I secretly rejoyced in the infirmities 
 which delivered me from the exercises of the school, and 
 the society of my equals. As often as I was tolerably 
 exempt from pain and danger, reading — free desultory 
 reading — was the occupation and comfort of my solitary 
 hours, and my father's acquaintance who visited the 
 child were astonished at finding him surrounded with an 
 heap of folios of whose names tlmj were often ignorant, 
 and on whose contents lie could pertinently descant. 
 During the first years of this period, I still enjoyed the 
 conversation of my indulgent aunt, and in my subsequent 
 stations at Bath and AVinchester, at Putney and Buriton, 
 a false compassion respected my sufferings, and I was left 
 to gratify my unripe taste without the discipline of a 
 master, or even the advice of a learned friend. By 
 degrees the Avanderings of my fancy subsided in the 
 historic line, and as the doctrine of innate ideas is no 
 lou'T-er fashionable, I must ascribe this choice to the
 
 120 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 assiduous perusal of the Universal history as the separate 
 Volumes successively appeared. From the references ia 
 that unequal collection, and from an useful treatise, the 
 Ductor Historicus of Hearne, I obtained some knowledge 
 of the Grreek and Latin Historians. As many as were 
 accessible to an English student I endeavoured to 
 procure, and all were devoured in their turns — from 
 Littlebury's lame Herodotus, and Spelman's valuable 
 Xenophon, to the pompous folios of Gordon's Tacitus, 
 and a ragged Procopius of the beginning of the last 
 Century. The cheap attainment of so much learning 
 confirmed my dislike to the study of language, and I 
 represented to my aunt that, were I master of Latin 
 and Greek, I must interpret to myself in English the 
 thoughts of the original, and that such hasty extemporary 
 versions would be probably inferior to the elaborate 
 translations of professed scholars : a feeble sophism, but 
 which could not be easily refuted by a person ignorant 
 of any language but her own. My litterary wants began 
 to multiply ; the circulating libraries of London and 
 Bath were exhausted by my importunate demands, and 
 my expences in books surpassed the measure of my 
 scanty allowance. Of my eagerness to explore any new 
 path of history, I recollect a singular example. 
 
 In the year 1751 my father carried me to Mr. Hoare's 
 seat, in Wiltshire ; but I was much less delighted with 
 the beauties of Stourhead than with the accident of 
 finding in the library a volume of Echard's continuation, 
 which gave me the first notions of the })assage of the 
 Goths into the Eoman Empire. Nor was I satisfied till 
 1 had obtained from the second part of Howell's History 
 of the World a more compleat knowledge of that
 
 EAKLY HISTORICAL STUDIES. 121 
 
 memorable event which, at the end of thirty years, I was 
 destined to relate. 
 
 From ancient I descended to modern times, many 
 crude lumps of Speed, Eapin, Mezeray, Davila, ]Machiavel, 
 Father Paul, Bower, etc., passed through me like so many 
 Novels ; my curiosity was not limited to Europe, and I 
 swallowed with the same voracious appetite the descrip- 
 tion of China and the Indies, the American Decads of 
 Herrera, the artful missions of the Jesuits, and the 
 simple traditions of the Incas, so pompously styled the 
 Koyal Commentaries of Peru. But I must applaud 
 the reason or instinct which led me to seek and to find 
 the genuine monuments of Eastern history; before the 
 age of sixteen I was master of all the English mate- 
 rials, which I have since employed in the chapters of 
 the Persians and Arabians, the Tartars and Turks, and 
 the consciousness of their defects urged me to guess at the 
 French of d'Herbelot, and to construe the barbarous Latin 
 of Pocock's Abulpharagius. Such vague and multifarious 
 reading, which could not teach me to think or to act, was 
 enlightened, however, by an early and constant attach- 
 ment to the order of time and place. The Geography 
 and maps of Wells and Cellarius fixed in my mind the 
 picture of the ancient World. From the introduction of 
 Strauchius I imbibed the principles of Chronology ; in 
 the annals of Usher and Prideaux I distinguished the 
 series and connection of events; and the multitude of 
 dates and seras soon arranged themselves in my memory 
 in a regular and permanent system. But in the dis- 
 cussion of the first ages I overstepped the boundaries of 
 modesty and use. Scaliger and Petavius, Marsham and 
 Newton, I alternately presumed to weigh in my childish
 
 122 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 balance ; the dynasties of Egypt and Assyria were my 
 top and cricket-ball, and my sleep was often disturbed 
 by the difficulty of reconciling the Hebrew with the 
 Septuagint computation. I arrived at Oxford with a 
 stock of Erudition which might have puzzled a Doctor, 
 and a degree of ignorance of which a schoolboy would 
 have been ashamed. To complete this account of my 
 puerile studies, I shall here observe that I soon attempted 
 and soon abandoned two litterary projects far above my 
 strength : a critical enquiry into the age of Sesostris, and 
 the paralel lives of the Emperor Aurelian and Selim the 
 Turkish Sultan, who, in their cruelty, valour, and Syrian 
 Victories, may indeed support some kind of resemblance. 
 
 I entered on my new life at Magdalen College, in the 
 University of Oxford, with surprize and satisfaction. 
 These sentiments were naturally produced by my sudden 
 promotion, before the age of fifteen, to the rank of a 
 man ; the general civility with which I was treated ; the 
 silk gown and velvet cap of a Gentleman-Commoner ; a 
 decent allowance in my own disposal with a loose and 
 dangerous credit; an elegant apartment of three rooms 
 in the new buildings ; the beauty of the walks and public 
 edifices ; and the key of the College library, which I 
 might use or abuse without much interruption from the 
 fellows of the Society. I may wish that the fruits of my 
 noviciate had corresponded with this flattering appear- 
 ance, and that I could now proclaim my gratitude in the 
 well-chosen words of Dr. Lowth, the late Bishop of 
 London — • 
 
 "I was educated in the Universitv of Oxford. I 
 enjoyed all the advantages, both public and private, 
 wliich that famous seat of learning so largely affords.
 
 MAGDALEN COLLEGE. 123 
 
 I spent many happy years in that illustrious society, in 
 a well-regulated course of useful discipline and studies, 
 and in the agreeable and improving commerce of Gentle- 
 men and scholars ; in a society where emulation without 
 envy, ambition without jealousy, contention without 
 animosity, incited industry and awakened Genius ; where 
 a liberal ]Dursuit of knowledge and a generous freedom 
 of thouglit was raised, encouraged, and pushed forward, 
 by example, by commendation, and by authority. I 
 breathed the same atmosphere that the Hookers, the 
 Chillingworths, and the Lockes had breathed before," etc. 
 It may indeed be observed that the Atmosphere of 
 Oxford did not airree with Mr. Locke's constitution, and 
 that the Philosopher justly despised the Academical bigots 
 who expelled his person and condemned his principles.* 
 For me the University will as gladly renounce me for 
 her son as I shall disclaim her for my mother, since I 
 am compelled to acknowledge that the fourteen months 
 which I spent in Magdalen College were totally lost for 
 every purpose of study or improvement. If I am 
 reminded that my tender years, my short residence, and 
 my imperfect pra^paration could not derive much benefit 
 from the institution of that learned body, I am willing 
 that such reasons should operate with their proper weight. 
 Yet I may affirm tliat, at the age of fifteen, I was not 
 destitute of capacity and application ; that even my 
 
 * The Bubject of the expulsion the slightest compromise of truth 
 
 of Locke has been set at rest by and .lustice. The disigraceful act 
 
 the publication of Lord Grenville ; ' was not that of the University, but 
 
 wlio, anxious as he might be to of the servile Head of a College in 
 
 njjhold the character of the Uni- obedience to an arbitrary Court. — 
 
 versity, would have disdained tiie Milman. 
 attainment even of this object by 
 
 ' Oitford and Loche, by Lord Grenville, 1829.
 
 124 GIBBOX-S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 childish reading had proved an early though blind 
 propensity to books and learning, and that the shallow 
 flood might have easily been taught to flow in a deep 
 and regular channel. In the discipline of a well-con- 
 stituted society, and under the guidance of a skillful 
 teacher, my youthful ardour would have been encouraged 
 and directed. I should gradually have risen from trans- 
 lations to originals, from the Latin to the Greek Classics, 
 from dead languages to living science ; and the six years 
 which my father had allotted for my Academical education 
 might have been successfully employed in tlie labour of 
 learning. When I reflect, indeed, on the advantages 
 which I gained in a liberal acquaintance with the nations, 
 the manners, and the idiom of Europe, I must rather 
 rejoyce than repine at my early deliverance from the 
 habits and prejudices of an English Cloyster. But 
 instead of speculating on what migld have been the 
 colour of my life and opinions, I shall now state with 
 simple sincerity the result of my personal experience of 
 Magdalen College in the university of Oxford. 
 
 The elegant Dissertations of Lowth on the Hebrew 
 poetry, and the useful commentaries of Blackstone on the 
 laws of England, were first delivered in the form of Aca- 
 demical lectures. But the assertion of Mr. Adam Smith 
 is generally true, that in the University " of Oxford the 
 greater part of the public professors for these many 
 years past have given up altogether even the pretence 
 of teaching." Instead of a course of lectures by the 
 masters of each particular science to a great number of 
 disciples, the task of instruction is abandoned to the 
 College-Tutors, who teach, or undertake to teach, the whole 
 circle, at least, of elementary knowledge in separate
 
 DR. WALDEGRAVE. 125 
 
 lessons to their private pupils. The first Tutor to whose 
 care I was resigned appears to have been one of the best 
 of the Tribe. Dr. Waldegrave was a learned and pious 
 man, of strict morals, and a mild disposition, who seldom 
 mingled either in the business or the jollity of the 
 College. He soon gained my regard and confidence ; I 
 preferred his company to that of the younger students, 
 and in our evening walks to the top of Heddington hill, 
 we freely conversed on a variety of topics. But this 
 respectable tutor was a stranger to the polite or philo- 
 sophic world : his temper was indolent ; his faculties, 
 which were not of the first-rate, had been relaxed by the 
 climate ; and he was content, like the rest of his fellows, 
 with a slight and superficial performance of an important 
 trust. No plan of study was formed ; no litterary exer- 
 cises were prescribed ; he suifered me to waste my leisure 
 without account or advice ; his morning lessons were con- 
 fined to the space of a single hour, and that hour was 
 filled by an easy task for the master and the pupil. We 
 read together the Comedies of Terence ; the whole sum 
 of my improvement at Oxford may be reduced to the 
 perusal of two or three Latin plays ; and even this 
 employment, which might have been productive of so 
 much Philosophical reflection and critical remark, con- 
 sisted only of a cold, dry interpretation of the text and 
 metre. During the first weeks I regularly attended these 
 lessons in my tutor's room, but as they were equally 
 devoid of profit and pleasure, I was once tempted to 
 make the experiment of a formal apology. The apology 
 was accepted with a smile. I repeated the offence 
 with less ceremony ; the excuse was accepted with the 
 same indulgence. The slightest motive of lazyness or
 
 126 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu B. 
 
 iudisjjosition, the most trifling avocation at home or 
 abroad, was a sufficient obstacle ; my visits became rare 
 and occasional, nor did my tutor appear conscious of my 
 absence or neglect. Before my return to Oxford, after 
 spending the vacation in Hampshire, Dr. Waldegrave was 
 removed to a College-living ; but I was transferred, with 
 the rest of his pupils, to his Academical heir, a Dr. Win- 
 chester, whose only science was supposed to be that of a 
 broker and salesman. From my own experience I am not, 
 indeed, qualified to represent his character; his person 
 I scarcely knew, and in the eight months for which he 
 demanded a salary I never received a word of lesson or 
 advice from the Director of my studies. The defects of 
 private tuition might have been supplied by public 
 discipline and example ; but the example of the old 
 Monks (I mean the fellows) was not likely to incite the 
 emulation and diligence of the novices and under- 
 graduates. The forty principal members of our opulent 
 foundation, who had been amply endowed with the means 
 of study and subsistence, were content to slumber in the 
 supine enjoyment of these benefits; they had absolved 
 themselves from the labour of reading, or thinking, or 
 writing, and the first shoots of learning or genius rotted 
 on the ground without producing any fruits either for the 
 owners or the public. Their conversations, to which I 
 have sometimes listened in the common room, stagnated 
 within the narrow circle of College business and Tory 
 politics; their deep and dull compotations left them no 
 right to blame the warmer intemperance of youth, and 
 their constitutional toasts v.ere not expressive of the most 
 sincere loyalty to the house of Hanover. The discipline 
 of the society I neither felt nor observed ; a tradition still
 
 BIGOTRY AND INDIFFERENCE AT OXFORD. 127 
 
 remained that Latin declamations had been spoken by the 
 Gentlemen-Commoners in the Hall ; but in my time the 
 custom was abolished : the obvious methods of rewards 
 and censures, of exercises and examinations, were un- 
 known ; nor could I learn that the conduct of Tutors and 
 pupils had ever awakened the attention of the President. 
 For my own part, the want of occupation and experience 
 soon led me into some irregularities of bad company, late 
 hours, and improper expence. My debts might be secret, 
 my absence was visible : a tour into Buckinghamshire, an 
 excursion to Bath, four excursions to London, were idle 
 and dangerous follies ; and my tender years might have 
 justified a more than ordinary restraint. Yet I eloped 
 from Oxford, I returned ; I again eloped in a few days, as 
 if I had been an independent stranger in a hired lodging, 
 without once hearing the voice of admonition, or once 
 feeling the hand of controul. I am told, and I am willing 
 to believe, that since the year fifty -three some reformation 
 has taken place. The essential vices of the University 
 are, however, inherent to its dark Antiquity, to the spirit 
 of an Ecclesiastical corporation, to the fixed salaries of 
 the professors, and to the lazy opulence of the Colleges, 
 which I flatter by comparing them to so many Abbeys 
 of Benedictine monks. 
 
 It might at least be expected that an Ecclesiastical 
 school should have diligently inculcated on the minds 
 of youth the study of Eeligion, and the arguments 
 that establish the truth of the Christian and pro- 
 testant Systems. But the University of Oxford had 
 contrived to unite the opposite extremes of bigotry and 
 indifference. According to her statutes, every student, 
 on his matriculation, subscribes, either with or without
 
 128 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 reading tliem, the thirty-nine articles of the Church of 
 England; but this ceremony was postponed on account 
 of my age, and the Vice-Chancellor directed me to return 
 so soon as I had accomplished my fifteenth year, referring 
 me in the mean while to the Religious instructions of my 
 College. My College forgot to instruct ; I forgot to return, 
 and was myself forgotten by the Vice-Chancellor ; and 
 thus, without signing any symbol of faith, without being 
 sanctifyed by any rites of confirmation, I groped my way 
 by the light of my Catechism to the Chappel and the 
 Communion table. Like most children who are born 
 with any natural sense, I had formerly puzzled my aunt 
 by my questions and objections on the mysteries of 
 Keligion, and the heavy atmosphere of Oxford had not 
 totally broken the elasticity of my mind. Without guide 
 or preparation, my idle curiosity was unluckily directed 
 to the study of the disputes between the Protestants and 
 the Papists ; and I soon persuaded myself that victory 
 and salvation were on the side of the Church of Eome. 
 The Universitv of Oxford, which has suffered some 
 reproach from my short apostacy, was insulted by the 
 false supposition that some Jesuits, some Eomish Wolves 
 must have been permitted to steal into the fold and to 
 devour the lambs while the shepherd was asleep. In 
 truth and justice, I must affirm that I never conversed 
 at Oxford with a priest or even with a Catholic, till 
 my resolution was irrevocably fixed ; and it was fixed by 
 some books of controversy, the first of which I borrowed 
 from a young Gentleman of the College who secretly in- 
 clined to the same opinions. I read till my ignorance was 
 entangled in the net of texts of scripture and passages of 
 the Fathers. The hard doctrine of transubstantion {sic)
 
 ENTERS THE CHURCH OF ROME. 129 
 
 was smoothed by the protestant belief in the mystery of the 
 trinity : the vices of the Keformation were triumphantly 
 urged, and I yielded to the specious argument that a wise 
 legislator would provide a supreme and visible Judge for 
 the interpretation of his laws. If I now smile or blush at 
 the recollection of my folly, I may derive some counte- 
 nance from the example of Chillingworth and Bayle, who, 
 at a riper age, were seduced by similar sophistry to 
 embrace the same system of superstition. I may claim 
 the merit of treading in their footstej)s, when, after a 
 transient delusion, they broke their fetters and resumed 
 the command of their captive reason. But, in their return 
 to the Eeligion of their fathers, my two predecessors were 
 carried beyond the term from whence they had departed. 
 It was with deep reluctance that Chillingworth subscribed 
 the thirty-nine articles, several parts of which he dis- 
 believed ; his acute understanding was repeatedly van- 
 quished by itself, and his last opinions were most probably 
 those of an Arian or Socinian. The free and comprehen- 
 sive Genius of Bayle balanced the Keligions of the Earth 
 in the scales of his sceptical philosophy, till the adverse 
 quantities, if I may use the language of Algebra, had 
 annihilated each other. 
 
 No sooner was my reason subdued than I resolved to 
 approve my faith by my works, and to enter without 
 delay into the pale of the Church of Eome. In my last 
 excursion to London, I addressed myself to a Catholic 
 bookseller in Eussell street, Covent Garden ; he recom- 
 mended me to a priest of whose name and order I am 
 at present ignorant, and by Ms exhortations I was con- 
 firmed in my pious design. The conversion of a young 
 Englishman of family and fortune could not fail of
 
 130 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 making much noise, and miglit be attended with some 
 danger; but his zeal overlooked these worldly con- 
 siderations, and at his feet, on the eighth of June, 
 1753, I solemnly, though privately, abjured the errors 
 of heresy. In the sacrifice of this world to the 
 next, I might affect the glory of a Confessor ; but I 
 must freely acknowledge that the sincere change of my 
 speculative opinions was not inflamed by any lively 
 sense of devotion or enthusiasm, and that in the giddy- 
 ness of my age I had not seriously weighed the 
 temporal consequences of this rash step. The intelli- 
 gence, which I imparted to my father in an elaborate 
 controversial Epistle, struck him with astonishment 
 and grief : he was neither a bigot nor a philosopher ; but 
 his affection deplored the loss of an only son, and his 
 good-sense could not understand or excuse my strange 
 departure from the Eeligion of my Country.] After 
 carrying me to Putney, to the house of his friend Mr. 
 Mallet, by whose philosophy I was rather scandalized 
 than reclaimed, it was necessary to form a new plan of 
 education, and to devise some method which, if j)ossible, 
 might effect the cure of my spiritual malady. 
 
 f The gates of Oxford were shut against my return ; 
 in every part of England I might be accessible to 
 the seductions of my new friends, and] after much 
 debate it was determined, from the advice and per- 
 sonal experience of 3Ir. Eliot (now Lord Eliot *), to 
 fix me, during some years, at Lausanne in Switzerland. 
 Mr. Frey, a Swiss Gentleman of Basil, undertook the 
 conduct of the journey : we left London the 19th of June, 
 
 * Edward Eliot, Esq., M.P. for Eliot of St. Germans, 1784; died 
 Cornwall, bora 1727 ; was elevated 180i. His wife was Gibbon's 
 to the peerage as the first Baron cousin, Catherine EUiston.
 
 LAUSANNE. 131 
 
 crossed the sea from Dover to Calais, travelled post 
 through several provinces of France, by the direct road 
 of St. Quentin, Rheims, Langres, and I)esancon,:and arrived 
 the 30th of June at Lausanne, where I was immediately 
 settled under the roof and tuition of Mr. Pavilliard, a 
 Calvinist Minister. 
 
 The first marks of my father's displeasure rather 
 astonished than afflicted me : when he threatened to 
 banish and disown and disinherit a rebellious son, I 
 cherished a secret hope that he w^ould not be able or 
 willing to effect 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 alive ,by the rapid motion of the journey, the new 
 and various scenes of the continent, and the civility of 
 Mr. Frey, a man of sense, and who was not ignorant of 
 books or the World. But after he had resigned me into 
 Pavilliard's hands, and I was fixed in my new habitation, 
 I had leisure to contemplate the strange and melancholy 
 prospect. 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 answering a question 
 in the common intercourse of life. To an 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. 
 
 [[The Minister's wife, Madame Pavilliard, governed our
 
 132 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 domestic ceconomy : I now speak of her without resent- 
 ment, but in sober truth she was ugly, dirty, proud, ill- 
 tempered and covetous. Our hours, of twelve for dinner, 
 of seven for supper, were arbitrary, though inconvenient 
 customs ; the appetite of a young man might have over- 
 looked the badness of the materials and cookery, but his 
 appetite was far from being satisfied with the scantiness 
 of our daily meals, and more than one sense was offended 
 by the appearance of the table which during eight succes- 
 sive days was regularly covered with the same linnen.] 
 I had now exchanged my elegant apartment in Mag- 
 dalen College for a narrow, gloomy street, the most un- 
 frequented of an unhandsome town ; for an old incon- 
 venient house, and for a small chamber ill-contrived and 
 ill-furnished, which on the approach of winter, instead of 
 a companionable fire, must be warmed by the dull invisible 
 heat of a stove. From a man I was again degraded ta 
 the dependence of a schoolboy. Mr. Pavilliard managed 
 my expences, which had been reduced to a diminutive 
 scale : I received a small monthly allowance for my 
 pocket-money ; and, helpless and awkward as I have ever 
 been, I no longer enjoyed the indispensable comfort of a 
 servant. My condition seemed as destitute of 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 connection with my Catholic friends. 
 I have since reflected with surprize, that, as the Komish 
 Clergy of every part of Europe maintain a close corre- 
 spondence 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 introduction
 
 LIFE AT LAUSANNE. 133 
 
 to Lausanne, a place where I spent near 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 lasting impression. At the flexible age of sixteen I 
 soon learned to endure and gradually to adopt the new 
 forms of arbitrary manners : the real hardships of my 
 situation, Qthe house, tlie table and the mistress] were 
 alleviated by time ; |[and to this coarse and scanty fare 
 I am perhaps indebted for the establishment of my con- 
 stitution.] 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 as our countrymen usually 
 import from the continent. An exile and a prisoner as I 
 was, their example betrayed me into some irregularities 
 of wine, of play, and of idle excursions ; but I soon felt 
 the impossibility of associating with them on equal terms, 
 and after the departure of my first acquaintance I held 
 a cold and civil correspondence with their successors. 
 This seclusion from English society was attended with 
 the most solid benefits. In the jjciys 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 
 progress. 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,
 
 134 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 were impressed in my memory : ease and freedom were 
 obtained by practise, correctness and elegance by labour ; 
 and before I was recalled home, French, in which I spon- 
 taneously 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 judgement 
 were now somewhat riper : I was introduced to a new 
 mode of style and litterature : 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 VEglise et de T 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 their company ; my awkward timidity was 
 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 
 elegant society. I was received with kindness and 
 indulgence in the best families of Lausanne ; and it was 
 in one of these that I formed an intimate, lasting con- 
 nection with Mr. Deyverdun, a young man of an amiable 
 temper and excellent understanding. In the arts of 
 fencing and dancing small indeed was my proficiency, and 
 some expensive months were idly wasted in the ridiug- 
 school. My unfitness to bodily exercise reconciled me to 
 a sedentary life, and the horse, the favourite of my coun- 
 trymen, never contributed to the pleasures of my youth.
 
 M. PAVILLIAKD. 135 
 
 My obligations to the lessons of Mr. Pavilliard 
 gratitude will not suffer me to forget : j^but truth com- 
 pells me to own, that my best pra3ceptor was not himself 
 eminent for genius or learning. Even the real measure 
 of his talents was under-rated in the public opinion : the 
 soft credulity of his temper exposed him to frequent 
 imposition ; and his want of eloquence and memory in 
 the pulpit disqualified him for the most popular duty 
 of his office. But] he was endowed with a clear head and 
 a warm heart ; his innate benevolence had asswaged 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 litterature; by long practise he was skilled in the 
 arts of teaching ; and he laboured with assiduous patience 
 to know the character, gain the aiTection, and oj^en the 
 mind of his English pupil. As soon as we began to 
 understand each other, he gently led me 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. 
 
 The principles of philosophy were associated with 
 the examples of taste ; and by a singular chance, the book, 
 as well as the man, which contributed the most effectually 
 to my education, has a stronger claim on my gratitude 
 than on my admiration. Mr. de Crousaz,* the adversary 
 
 * Jean Pierre de Crousaz, born Groningen, 1724 ; Professor of 
 at Lausanne, 1663; Professor of Philosophy, Lausanne, 1737 ; 
 Philosophy and Mathematics at where he died, 1748.
 
 136 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 of Bayle and Pope, is not distinguished by lively fancy 
 or profound reflexion ; 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 Lausanne 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 abridgement of the art 
 of reasoning, from our simple ideas to the most complex 
 operations of the human understanding. This system 
 I studied, and meditated, and abstracted, till I have 
 obtained the free command of an universal instrument, 
 which I soon presumed to exercise on my catholic 
 opinions. Pavilliard was not unmindful that his first 
 task, his most imjDortant 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 this attack, and my 
 gradual concessions after a firm and well-managed 
 defence.* I was willing, and I am now willing, to allow 
 him an handsome share of the honour of my conversion ; 
 
 * M. Pavilliard has described to all tlic best arj;uments that had 
 
 me the astonishment with ■which ever been used in favour of popery, 
 
 lie gazed on Mr. Gibbon standing Mr. Gibbon many years ago beoame 
 
 before him : a thin little figure, very fat and corpulent, but he had 
 
 with a largo head, disputing and uncommonly small bones, and was 
 
 urging, with the greatest ability, very slightly made. — Sheffield.
 
 KE-CONVERSION. 137 
 
 yet I must observe that it was principally effected by my 
 private reflexions, and I still remember my solitary 
 transport at the discovery of a philosophical argument 
 against the doctrine of transubstantian (sic) : 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 Komish creed disappeared like a dream, and after 
 a full conviction, on Christmas Day 1754, I received 
 the sacrament in the Church of Lausanne. It was here 
 that I suspended my Keligious enquiries, acquiescing 
 with implicit belief in the tenets and mysteries which 
 are adopted by the general consent of Catholics and 
 Protestants. 
 
 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 in the life of every man of letters, 
 there is an sera, from a level, from whence he soars with 
 his own wings to his proper height, and the most 
 important part of his education is that which he bestows 
 on himself.] 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
 
 138 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 ardour has never been seduced to trespass on the hours 
 of the night. During the last three years of my residence 
 at Lausanne I may assume the merit of serious and solid 
 application, but I am tempted to distinguish the last 
 eight months of the year 1755 as the period of the most 
 extraordinary 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 version with the ease, the grace, the propriety 
 of the Eoman Orator. A similar experiment was made 
 on some pages of the Eevolutions of Vertot ; I turned 
 them into Latin, re-turned them after a sufficient in- 
 terval 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 myself ; and I persevered in the practise 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 style. This useful exercise 
 of writing was accompanied and succeeded by the more 
 pleasing occupation of reading the best authors. 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
 
 CLASSICAL STUDIES. 139 
 
 lie on the table of the learned, were not in my power. 
 For the familar Epistles I used the text and English 
 Commentary of Bishop Eoss ; but my general Edition was 
 that of Verbruggius, 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 
 treatises of Rhetoric and Philosophy ; and as I read, I 
 applauded the observation of Quintilian, that every student 
 may judge of his own proficiency by the satisfaction 
 which he receives from the Roman Orator. 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 afford the models of every 
 form of correspondence, from the careless effusions of 
 tenderness and friendship, to the well-guarded declaration 
 of discreet and dignified resentment. After finishing 
 this great Author, a library of eloquence 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 
 Salust 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 review, 
 however rapid, either hasty or superficial. I indulged 
 myself in a second and even a third j)erusal of Terence, 
 Virgil, Horace, Tacitus, etc., and studied to imbibe the
 
 140 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 sense and spirit most congenial to my own. I never 
 suffered a difficult or corrupt passage to escape, till 1 
 had viewed it in every light of which it was susceptible. 
 Though often disappointed, I always consulted the most 
 learned or ingenious commentators, Torrentius and Dacier 
 on Horace, Catrou and Servius on Virgil, Lipsius on 
 Tacitus, Meziriac on Ovid, etc. ; and in the ardour of 
 my enquiries I embraced a large circle of historical 
 and critical erudition. 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 (287-294) of the fourth Georgic of Virgil. 
 Mr. Deyverdun, my friend, whose name will be frequently 
 repeated, had joyned with equal zeal, though not with 
 equal perseverance, in the same undertaking. To him 
 every thought, every composition, was instantly com- 
 municated ; 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 asj^iring to know the Greek originals 
 whom they celebrate as their masters, and of whom they 
 so warmly recommend the study and imitation. 
 
 " Vos exemplaria Grseca 
 Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna." 
 
 It was now that I regretted the early years which 
 had been wasted in sickness, or idleness, or more idle 
 reading ; that I condemned the perverse method of our 
 schoolmasters, who, by first teaching the mother- 
 language, might descend with so much ease and per- 
 spicuity to the origin and etymology of a derivative idiom.
 
 GREEK AND MATHEMATICS. 141 
 
 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. QAs he had possessed only such a stock 
 as was requisite for an Ecclesiastic, our first book was 
 St. John's Gospel, and should probably have construed 
 the whole of the new testament, had I not represented 
 the absurdity of adhering to the corrupt dialect of the 
 Hellenist Jews.] 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 ^conscious of his inability] had left 
 me to myself, I worked my way through about half the 
 Iliad, and afterwards interpreted alone a 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 familiar conversation of Virgil and Tacitus. 
 Yet in my residence at Lausanne I had laid a solid 
 foundation, which enabled me in a more j)ropitious season 
 to prosecute the study of Grecian litterature. 
 
 From a blind idea of the usefullness of such abstract 
 science, my father had been desirous, and even pressing, 
 that I should devote some time to the jMathematics ; 
 nor could I refuse to comply with so reasonable a 
 wish. During two winters I attended the private lectures 
 of Mr. de Traytorrens, who explained the Elements of 
 Algebra and Geometry as far as the Conic sections of 
 the JMarquis de I'Hopital, and appeared satisfied with 
 my diligence and improvement. But as my childish
 
 142 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 propensity 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 I understood the principles, 
 I relinquished for ever the pursuit of the Mathematics ; 
 nor can I lament that I desisted before my mind was 
 hardened by the habit of rigid demonstration, so destruc- 
 tive of the finer feelings of moral evidence, which must, 
 however, 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 Qhe pedantry of] Grotius, or [the prolixity 
 of] 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 practise of modern Europe. 
 My 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 in experience ; but my 
 delight was in the frequent perusal of Montesquieu, whose 
 energy of style 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 as a bridle * to the 
 curiosity of a young philosoi)her. According to the 
 
 * " Spur " in Memoir C, p. 234.
 
 HISTORICAL STUDIES. 14 
 
 o 
 
 nature of their respective works, the schools of argument 
 and objection, I carefully went through the Essay on human 
 understanding, and occasionally consulted the most in- 
 teresting 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 taste or 
 judgement; and more than once I have been led by a 
 novel into a deep and instructive train of thinking. But 
 I cannot forbear to mention three particular books, since 
 they may have remotely contributed to form 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 of grave 
 and temperate irony, even on subjects of Ecclesiastical 
 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 Ee- 
 volutions of Italy in the darker ages. This various 
 reading, which I now conducted with [|skill and] 
 discretion, was digested, according to the precept and 
 model of Mr. Locke, into a large Commonplace-book ; a 
 practise, however, which I do not strenuously 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.
 
 144 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 " that what is twice read is commonly better remembered 
 than what is transcribed." 
 
 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 Pavilliard, 
 and our short absence of one month (September 21'"'*— 
 October 20"', 1755) was a reward and relaxation of my 
 assiduous studies. The fashion of climbing the mountains 
 and viewing the Glaciers had not yet been introduced 
 by foreign travellers, who seek the sublime beauties 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 feiv to the 
 licentious freedom of the many. I contemplated with 
 pleasure the new prospects of men and manners ; though 
 my conversation with the natives would have been more 
 free and instructive, had I possessed the (merman as well 
 as the French language. We passed through most of 
 the principal towns of Switzerland — Neufchatel, Bienne, 
 Soleurre, Aran, Baden, Zurich, Basil, and Bern : in every 
 place we visited the Churches, arsenals, 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 dispatched to my father as a proof that my time 
 and his money had not been mispent. Had 1 found this 
 journal among his 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 impressit)n on my 
 memory. From Zurich we proceeded [on a pilgrimage 
 not of devotion, but of curiosity] to the Benedictine
 
 LITERARY CORRESPONDENCE. 145 
 
 Abbey of Einsidlen, more commouly styled our Lady of 
 the Hermits. I was astonisbed 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 ivas 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 
 arjrument for the reformation of the Church. About two 
 years after this tour, I passed at Geneva an useful and 
 agreable month ; but this excursion, and some short 
 visits in the Pays 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 
 litterary 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 reconciled 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 my 
 emendation in scales less partial than my own. I 
 addressed myself to Mr. Crevier,t the successor of EoUin, 
 
 * " Tunc flesse decuit, quum ab Romanis credatis." 
 
 adempta nobis arma, iucensfe f Jean Baptists Louis Crevier 
 
 naves, interdictum externis bellis, (1093-1705), Professor of Rhetoric 
 
 illo eiiira vulnere concidimus. Nee at the College of Beauvais. 
 esse in vos odio vcstro consultum
 
 146 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 [Memoir B. 
 
 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, [which I must still applaud 
 as easy and happy.] 2. I maintained a Latin cor- 
 respondence, at first anonymous, and afterwards in my 
 own name, with Professor Breitinger,* of Zurich, the 
 learned Editor of a Septuagint Bible : in our frequent 
 letters we discussed many 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 conjecture, were 
 sharp and strong ; and I was encouraged by the con- 
 sciousness of my strength, when I could stand in free 
 debate against a critic of such eminence and erudition. 
 
 3. I corresponded on similar topics with the cele- 
 brated Professor Matthew Gesner,t 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 
 direction, the vain old man covered half a sheet of paper 
 with the foolish enumeration of his titles and offices. 
 
 4. These professors of Paris, Zurich, and Gottingen 
 Avere strangers whom I presumed to address on the credit 
 of their name ; but Mr. Allamand,f Minister at Bex, was 
 
 * Johann Jacob Breitinger, bom 
 at Zurich, 1701 ; Professor of 
 Hebrew and Greek ; died 1776. 
 
 t Johann Matthias Ge8ner(lG91- 
 1761), Professor of Eloquence and 
 Poetry, Gottingen. 
 
 X This writer is scarcely known 
 except by this mention of him; 
 
 lie was Protestant minister at Bex, 
 and published anonymously, in 
 1745, Une Lettre sur les assemblies 
 des religtonnaires en Languedoc, 
 ecrite a tin gentilhoTnme protestant 
 de cette province, par M. D. L., 
 F. D. M. (Rotterdam on title-page).
 
 M. ALLAMAND. 147 
 
 ray personal friend, with whom I maintained a more free 
 and interesting correspondence. He was a master of 
 language, of science, and, above all, of dispute ; and his 
 acute and flexible logic could support with equal address, 
 and perhaps with equal indifference, the adverse sides of 
 every possible question. His spirit was active, but his 
 pen had been indolent. Mr. AUamand had exposed him- 
 self to much scandal and reproach by an anonymous 
 letter (1745) to the Protestants of France, in which he 
 labours to persuade them that puhlic worship is the 
 exclusive right and duty of the State, and that their 
 numerous assemblies of dissenters and rebels are not 
 authorized by the law or the Gospel. His style is 
 animated, his arguments are 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 tryals 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 page 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 defended ; the origin of ideas, 
 the principles of evidence, and the doctrine of liberty. 
 
 " And found no end, in wandering mazes lost." 
 By fencing with so skilfuU a master, I acquired some 
 dexterity in the use of my philosophic weapons; but I 
 was still the slave of education and prejudice ; he had
 
 148 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 some measures to keep ; and I much suspect that he 
 never shewed me the true colours of his secret scepticism. 
 Before I was recalled from Switzerland I had the 
 satisfaction 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 retired, 
 at the 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 gratified : 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 the] composed on his first 
 arrival on the banks of the Leman Lake — 
 
 " Maison cVAristippe ! Jardin d'Epicure ! " etc. 
 
 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 discretion 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. He had formed a troop of Gentlemen and 
 Ladies, some of whom were not destitute of talents : a
 
 VOLTAIRE. 149 
 
 decent theatre was framed at Monrepos, a country house 
 at the end of a suburb; dresses and scenes were pro- 
 vided at the expence of the actors, and the author 
 directed the rehearsals with the zeal and attention of 
 paternal love. In two successive winters his tragedies 
 of Zayre, xilzire, Zulime, and his sentimental comedy of 
 the Enfant prodigue were played at the Theatre of 
 Monrepos, fbut it was not without much reluctance and 
 ill-humour that the envious bard allowed the repre- 
 sentation of the Iphigenie of Eacine. The parts of the 
 young and fair were distorted by his fat and ugly niece, 
 Madame Denys, who could not, like our admirable 
 Pritchard, make the spectators forget the defects of her 
 age and person.] For himself Voltaire reserved the 
 characters best adapted to his years — Lusignan, Alvarez, 
 Benassar, Euphemon ; his declamation was fashioned to 
 the pomp and cadence of the old stage, and he expressed 
 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 Genius of 
 Shakespeare, which is inculcated from our infancy 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 representations of Montrepos I some- 
 times supped with the Actors: I was now familiar in 
 some, and acquainted in many, houses ; and my evenings 
 were generally devoted to cards and conversation, either 
 in private parties or numerous assemblies.
 
 150 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 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 of the gallantry, 
 
 without hope or design, which has originated from the spirit 
 
 of chivalry, and is interwoven with the texture of French 
 
 manners. [I do not confine myself to the grosser 
 
 appetite which our pride may affect to disdain, because 
 
 it has been implanted by Nature in the whole animal 
 
 creation, "Amor omnibus idem." The discovery of a 
 
 sixth sense, the first consciousness of manhood, is a very 
 
 interesting moment of our lives; but it less properly 
 
 belongs to the memoirs of an individual, than to the 
 
 natural history of the species.] 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 recollecting 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 
 
 sentiment. The personal attractions of Mademoiselle 
 
 Susanne 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 preferred 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 Grassy, in the mountains that separate the 
 
 pays de Yaud 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
 
 SUSANNE CURCHOD. 151 
 
 surpassed his hopes by her proficiency in the sciences 
 and languages ; and in her short visits to some relations 
 at Lausanne, the wit and beauty and erudition of Made- 
 moiselle Curchod were the theme of universal applause. 
 The report of such a prodigy awakened by (sic) curiosity ; 
 I saw and loved. I found her learned without pedantry, 
 lively in conversation, pure in sentiment, and elegant 
 in manners; and the first sudden emotion was fortified 
 by the habits and knowledge of a more familiar acquaint- 
 ance. She permitted me to make her two or three visits 
 at her father's house : I passed some happy days in the 
 mountains of Burgundy ; and her parents honourably 
 encouraged a connection [which might raise their daughter 
 above want and dependence]. 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 Grassy 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 
 myself destitute and helpless. After a painful struggle 
 I yielded to my fate ; [the remedies of absence and time 
 were at length effectual], and my love subsided in friend- 
 ship and esteem. The minister of Grassy soon afterwards 
 died ; his stipend died M'ith him : his daughter retired 
 to Geneva, where, by teaching young ladies, she earned 
 a hard subsistence for herself and her mother ; but in 
 her lowest distress she maintained a spotless reputation 
 and a dignified behaviour. [The Dutchess of Grafton 
 (now Lady Ossory) has often told me that she had nearly 
 engaged Mademoiselle Curchod as a Governess, and her
 
 152 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik B. 
 
 declining a life of servitude was most probably blamed 
 by the wisdom of her short-sighted friends.] 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 Genius of her husband 
 has exalted him to the most conspicuous station in Europe : 
 in every change of prosperity and disgrace he has re- 
 clined on the bosom of a faithful friend ; and Mademoiselle 
 Curchod is now the wife of Mr. Necker the Minister, and 
 perhaps the legislator, of the French Monarchy. 
 
 I^Such as I am, in Genius or learning or manners, I 
 owe my creation to Lausanne : it was in that school, that 
 the statue was discovered in the block of marble ; and mv 
 
 ^ ml 
 
 own religious folly, my father's blind resolution, produced 
 the effects of the most deliberate wisdom.] One mis- 
 chief, however, and in the eyes of my countrymen a 
 serious and irreperable mischief, was derived from the 
 success of my Swiss education : I had ceased to be 
 an Englishman. At the flexible period of youth, from 
 the age of sixteen to twenty-one, my oj)inions, habits, 
 and sentiments 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 chearfuUy accepted the offer of a 
 moderate independent fortune 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 encrease my allowance, and with the pro- 
 gress of my years and reason I impatiently sighed for
 
 KETURN TO ENGLAND. 153 
 
 the moment of my deliverance. At length, in the 
 spring of the year one thonsand seven hundred and 
 iifty-eight, 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 without a 
 declaration had rendered that polite nati(m some- 
 what peevish and difficult : they denied a passage to 
 English travellers ; and the road through Germany was 
 circuitous, toilsome, and perhaps, in the neighbourhood 
 of the armies, exposed to some danger. In this per- 
 plexity, two Swiss officers of my acquaintance in the 
 Dutch service, 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 con- 
 sidered, in case of a discovery, in a very serious light. I 
 took my leave of Lausanne on the 11th 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- 
 comte and the fertile province of Lorraine, and passed, 
 without accident or enquiry, through several fortified 
 towns of the French frontier : from thence we entered the 
 wild Ardennes of the Austrian dutchy of Luxemburgh ; 
 and, after crossing the Meuse at Liege, we traversed the 
 heaths of Brabant, and reached, on the fifteenth day, our 
 Dutch garrison, Bois le Due, In our passage through 
 Nancy 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
 
 154 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 gratitude of his new subjects of Lorraine. In our halt 
 at Maestricht I visited Mr. de Beaufort, a learned Critic, 
 who was known to me by his specious arguments against 
 the five first Centuries of the Eoman history. After drop- 
 ping my regimental companions, I stepped aside to visit 
 Kotterdam and the Hague. I wished to have observed 
 a country, the monument of freedom and industry ; but 
 my days were numbered, and a longer delay would have 
 been ungraceful : I hastened to embark at the Brill, landed 
 the next day at Harwich, 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 litterary 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 pains and 
 pleasures of the body, how important soever to ourselves, 
 are an indelicate topic of conversation. I shall not follow 
 the vain example of Cardinal Quirini, who has filled half 
 a volume of his memoirs with medical consultations on 
 his own particular case. I shall not imitate the naked 
 frankness of ]\[ontaigne who exposes the most disgusting 
 symptoms of his malady, and marks the operation of each 
 remedy on his nerves and bowels.] The ex23erience of the 
 World inculcates a discreet reserve on the subject of our 
 estate ; and we soon learn that a free disclosure of our riches
 
 FINANCIAL EMBARRASSMENTS. 155 
 
 or poverty, would provoke the malice of envy, or encourage 
 the insolence of contempt. [Yet I am tempted to glance 
 in a few words on the state of my private circumstances, 
 as I am persuaded that had I been more indigent or 
 more wealthy, I should not have possessed the leisure or 
 the perseverance to prepare and execute my voluminous 
 history. My father's impatience for my return to Eng- 
 land was not wholly of the desinterested kind. I have 
 already hinted that he had been impoverished by his 
 two sisters, and that his gay character and mode of life 
 were less adapted to the acquisition than the expenditure 
 of wealth. A large and legitimate debt for the supply 
 of naval stores was lost by the injustice of the Court of 
 Spain : his elegant hospitality at Putney exceeded the 
 measure of his income ; the honour of being chosen a 
 Member of the Old club at White's had been dearly 
 paid, and a more pernicious species of gaming, the 
 contest for Southampton, exhausted his sickly finances. 
 His retirement into Hampshire on my mother's death 
 was coloured by a pious motive ; some years of solitude 
 allowed him to breathe ; but it was only by his son's 
 majority that he could be restored to the command of 
 an entailed estate. The time of my recall had been so 
 nicely computed that I arrived in London three days 
 before I was of age : the priests and the altar had been 
 prepared, and the victim was unconscious of the impend- 
 ing stroke. According to the forms and fictions of our 
 law, I levied a fine and suffered a recovery: the entail 
 was cut off; a sum of ten thousand pounds was raised 
 on mort[g]age for my father's use, and he repaid the 
 obligation by settling on me an annuity for life of three 
 hundred pounds a year. My submission at the time
 
 156 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 was blind' and almost invohmtary ; but it has been 
 justified by duty and interest to my cooler thoughts, 
 and I could only regret that the receipt of some appro- 
 priated fund was not given into my own hands. My 
 annuity, though somewhat more valuable thirty years 
 ago, was, however, inadequate to the style of a young 
 Englishman of fashion in the most wealthy Metropolis 
 of Europe ; but I was rich in my indifference, or, more 
 properly, my aversion for the active and costly pleasures 
 of my age and coimtry. Some arrears, especially my 
 bookseller's bill, Avere occasionally discharged ; and the 
 extraordinaries of my travels into France and Italy 
 amounted, by prsevious agreement, to the sum of twelve 
 hundred pounds. But the ordinary scale of my expence 
 was proportioned to my ordinary revenue ; my desires 
 were regulated by temper as much as by philosophy ; 
 and as soon as my purse was empty I had the courage 
 to retire into Hampshire, where I found in my father's 
 house a liberal maintenance, and in mv own studies an 
 inexhaustible source of amusement. AVith a credit which 
 might have been largely abused I may assume the 
 singular merit, that I never lost or borrowed twenty 
 pounds in the twelve years which elapsed between my 
 return from Switzerland and my father's death.] 
 
 The only person in England whom I was impatient 
 to see was my aunt Porten, the affectionate guardian of 
 my tender years. I hastened to her house in College 
 Street, Westminster, 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. ]\[y infancy, to speak the truth, had been 
 neglected at home ; the severity of his look and language
 
 DOROTHEA PATTON. 157 
 
 at our last parting still dwelt on my memory ; nor could 
 I form any notion of his character, or my probable re- 
 ception. They were both more agreable than I could 
 expect. 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 ajjplauded the 
 success of my education ; every word and action was 
 expressive of the most cordial affection ; and our lives 
 would have passed without a cloud, if his oeconomy 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 intro- 
 duced to me with the most unfavourable prejudice : I 
 considered his second marriage as an act of disj)leasure, 
 [and the rival who had usurped my mother's bed ap- 
 peared in the light of a personal and domestic enemy. 
 I will not say that I was apprehensive of the bowl or 
 dagger, or that I had then weighed the sentence of 
 Euripides — 
 
 Ex^pa 7«P €Trtovffa /urirpuia TtKvois 
 Tots -rrpocrO' ex'Si'rjx ouSer ijTrioTfpa.* 
 
 But I well knew that the odium novercale was proverbial 
 in the language of antiquity ; the Latin poets always 
 couple with the name of stepmother the hateful epithets 
 
 * ['Ex^pa yap f) ^iriovaa firirpvia reKvois 
 To7s Trp6(T&', ex'SvTjx ouSev fiTnoorepa.^ 
 
 Eurip. Ale. 320.
 
 158 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 of crudelis, sfeva, scelerata ; and on the road I had often 
 repeated the line of Virgil — 
 
 " Est mihi namqne domi pater, est injusta noverca."J 
 But the injustice 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 under- 
 standing, her knowledge, 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 con- 
 fidence 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 indulgence of these parents, I w&e left at 
 liberty to consult my taste or reason in the choice of 
 place, of company, and of amusements, and my excursions 
 were only bounded by the limits of the island and the 
 measure of my income. Some faint efforts were made 
 to procure me an employment of 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, exhorted me to take chambers in 
 the Temple, and devote my leisure to the study of the 
 Law. I cannot repent of having 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 endow ed me with the 
 bold and ready eloquence which makes itself heard amidst 
 the tumult of the bar — 
 
 [Vinccntem strepitus, et natnm rebus agendis.]
 
 LIFE IN LONDON. 159 
 
 and I should probably have been diverted from the 
 labours of litterature, 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 the Hampshire 
 militia, I passed about nine mouths 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 that will occur in the long circuit of 
 a morning walk. I assiduously frequented the Theatres 
 at a very prosperous asra of the stage, when a con- 
 stellation of excellent actors, both in tragedy and 
 comedy, was eclipsed by the meridian brightness of 
 Garrick, in the maturity of his judgement and vigour 
 of his performance. The pleasures of a town life, [the 
 daily round from the tavern to the play, from the play 
 
 to the coffee-house, from the coffee-house to the ] 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
 
 160 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 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 pre- 
 ferred the highest and the lowest company, for which 
 he was equally qualified ; and after a 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 connections which were not 
 such as I should have chosen for myself. The most 
 useful friends of my father were the Mallets : they 
 received me with civility and kindness, at first on his 
 account, and afterwards on my own ; and (if I may use 
 Lord Chesterfield's word) 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 f whatsoever might 
 be the defects of] his wife, [she] was not destitute of 
 wit or learning. By his assistance I was introduced 
 to Lady Hervey,* the mother of the present 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 I displeased at her preference and 
 even affectation of the manners, the language, and the 
 litterature 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 
 
 Mary Lepell, wife of John, Lord Hervey.
 
 BURITON. 161 
 
 and address which imlock every door and every bosom ; 
 nor would it be reasonable to complain of the just 
 consequences of 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 
 Avere sometimes interrupted by a sigh which I breathed 
 towards Lausanne ; and on the approach of spring I 
 withdrew without reluctance from the noisy and expensive 
 scene of crowds without company, and dissijDation without 
 pleasure. In each of the twenty-five years of my 
 acquaintance with London (1758-1783) the prospect 
 gradually brightened ; and tliis unfavourable picture 
 most properly belongs to the first period after my return 
 from Switzerland. 
 
 My father's residence in Hampshire, where I Jiave 
 passed many light, and some heavy hours, was at Buriton, 
 near Petersfield, one mile from the Portsmouth road, and 
 at the easy distance of fifty-eight miles from London. 
 An old mansion, in a state of deeaj^, had been converted 
 into the fashion and convenience of a modern house ; and 
 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 chearful : the 
 downs commanded a noble prospect, and the long hang- 
 ing woods in sight of the house could not perhaps 
 have been improved by art or expence. My father 
 ]^ept in his own hands the whole of his estate, and 
 even rented some additional land ; and whatsoever 
 might be the balance of profit and loss, the farms sup- 
 plied him witli amusement and plenty. The produce 
 
 M
 
 1 62 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 maintained a number of men and horses, wliicli were 
 multiplied by the intermixture of domestic and rural 
 servants ; and in the intervals of labour, the favourite 
 team, an handsome set of bays or greys, was harnessed to 
 the coach. The ceconomy of the house was regulated by 
 the taste and prudence of Mrs. Gibbon ; she prided 
 herself in the elegance of her occasional dinners ; and 
 from the uncleanly avarice of Madame Pavilliard, I was 
 suddenly transported to the daily neatness and luxury 
 of an English table. Our immediate neighbourhood was 
 rare and rustic ; but from the verge of our hills, as far 
 as Chichester and Goodwood, 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 frequent, intercourse. As my stay 
 at Buriton was always voluntary, I was received and 
 dismissed with smiles ; but the comforts of my retire- 
 ment did not depend on the ordinary pleasures of the 
 Country. My father could never inspire me with his 
 love and knowledge of farming. [When he galloped 
 away on a fleet hunter to follow the Duke of Eichmond's 
 foxhounds, I saw him depart without a wish to join in 
 the sport; and in the command of an ample manour, 
 I valued the supply of the kitchen much more than 
 the exercise of the field.] I never handled a gun, I 
 seldom mounted an liorse ; and my philosophic walks 
 were soon terminated bv a shadv bench, where I was 
 long detained by the sedentary amusement of reading 
 or meditation. At home I occupied a pleasant and 
 spacious apartment ; the library on the same floor was 
 soon considered as my peculiar domain, and I might 
 say with truth that I was never less alone than when
 
 LIFE AT BURITON. 163 
 
 by myself. My sole complaint, which I piously sup- 
 pressed, arose from the kind restraint imposed 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 I 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 Stockbridge, Beading, and 
 Odiham, where he had entered a horse for the hunter's 
 plate ; and I was not displeased with the sight of our 
 Olympic games, the beauty of the spot, the fleetness 
 of the horses, and the gay tumult of the numerous 
 spectators. As soon as the ]\lilitia business was agitated, 
 many days were tediously consumed in meetings of 
 Deputy-Lieutenants at Petersfield, Alton, and Win- 
 chester. In the close of the same 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
 
 164 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 English manners, and the acquisition of some practical 
 knowledge. 
 
 If in a more domestic or more dissipated scene my 
 application 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 con- 
 tained some valuable Editions of the Classics and the 
 fathers, the choice, as it should seem, of Mr. Law ; and 
 many English publications of the times had been occa- 
 sionally added. From this slender beginning I have 
 gradually formed a numerous and KSelect library, the 
 foundation of my works, and the best comfort of my 
 life both at home and abroad. On the receipt of the 
 first quarter, a large share of my allowance was appro- 
 priated to my literary wants. I cannot forget the joy 
 with which I exchanged a banknote 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 procured 
 so large and lasting a fund of rational amusement. At 
 a time when I most assiduously frequented this school 
 of ancient litterature, I thus expressed my opinion of 
 a learned and various Collection, which since the year 
 1759 has been doubled in magnitude though not equally 
 in merit : " TJne de ces societes, qui ont mieux immor- 
 talise Louis XIV. qu'une ambition souvent pernicieuse 
 aux hommes, commenjoit deja ces recherches qui reunis- 
 sent la justesse de I'esprit, I'amenite, et I'erudition : ou
 
 BOOKS AND STUDIES. 165 
 
 I'on voit tant de decouvertes, et qiielquefois, 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 observe 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 tolerating 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 pur- 
 suit of the Greek language except 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 was less strenuously completed ; but the acquisi- 
 tion, by inheritance or purchase, of the best editions of 
 Cicero, Quintilian, Livy, Tacitus, Ovid, etc., afforded a 
 fair opportunity, which I seldom neglected. I persevered 
 in the useful methods of abstracts and observation, and 
 a single example may suffice of a note which had almost 
 swelled into a work. The solution of a passage of Livy 
 (xxxviii. 38) involved me in the dry and dark treatises 
 of Greaves, Arbuthnot, Hooper, Bernard, Eissenschmidt, 
 Gronovius, La Barre, Freret, etc. ; and in my French 
 Essay (c. xx.) 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
 
 166 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 friends, among books and men, as are best entitled to 
 my notice by their own merit and reputation, or by the 
 deep impression wbicb they have left on my mind. 
 Yet I will embrace this occasion of recommending to 
 the young student a practise which about this time I 
 adopted myself. 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 particular chapter. I was then qualified 
 to discern how much the author added to my original 
 stock and I was sometimes satisfied by the agreement, 
 I was sometimes armed by the opposition of our ideas. 
 The favourite companions of my leisure were our English 
 writers since the Eevolution ; they breathe the spirit of 
 reason and liberty, and they most seasonably 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 sup- 
 ported by manly original vigour ; that of Addison is 
 adorned by the female graces of elegance and mildness ; 
 and the contrast of too coarse or too thin a texture is 
 visible even in the defects of these celebrated authors. 
 The old reproach, that no British altars had been raised 
 to the muse of history, was recently disproved by the 
 first performances of Kobertson and Hume, the histories 
 of Scotland and of the Stuarts. I will assume the pre- 
 sumption to say that I was not unworthy to read them ; 
 nor will I disguise my different feelings in the repeated
 
 FIRST ESSAY. 167 
 
 2:>erusals. The perfect composition, tlie nervous language, 
 the well-turned periods of Dr. Eobertson, inflamed me 
 to the ambitious hope that I might one day tread in 
 his footsteps : the calm philosophy, the careless inimi- 
 table beauties of his friend and rival, often forced me 
 to close the volume vdth a mixed sensation of delight 
 and despair. 
 
 The design of my first W(jrk, the Essay on the study 
 of litterature, was suggested by a refinement of vanity, 
 the desire of justifying and praising the object of a 
 favourite pursuit. In France, to which my ideas were 
 confined, the learning and language of Greece and 
 Eome were neglected by a philosophic age. The 
 guardian of those studies, the Academy of Inscriptions, 
 was degraded to the lowest rank 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 Mr. d'Alem- 
 bert's Discours preliminaire a 1' Encyclopedic) that the 
 exercise of the memory, their sole merit, had been 
 superseded by the nobler faculties of the imagination 
 and the judgement. 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 litterature ; 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 application ; but my object was ever 
 before my eyes, and no more than ten days, from the
 
 168 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 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 
 at Petersfield, I looked round for a critic and a judge 
 of my first ^performance. A writer can seldom be content 
 with the doubtful recompense of solitary 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 laudable, 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 practise of physic, and an office in the British 
 Musaeum. His reputation was justly founded on the 
 eighteen Volumes of the Journal Britamiique, which he 
 had supported, almost alone, with ^perseverance 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 judgement of Maty : he exhibits a candid and pleasing 
 view of the state of litterature in England during a period 
 of six years (January, 1750 — December, 1755) ; and, far 
 different from his angry sou, he handles the rod of 
 criticism with the tenderness and reluctance of a parent. 
 The author of the Journal Britanmque sometimes aspires 
 to the character of a Poet and philosopher : his style is 
 pure and elegant, and in his virtues or even his defects 
 he may be ranked as one of the last disciples of the 
 school of Fontenelle. His answer to my first letter was 
 
 * Mattliew Maty, M.D. (1718-177G), imder-librariau (1753) and 
 librarian (1772) of the British Museum.
 
 ESSAY ON THE STUDY OF LITERATURE. 169 
 
 prompt and polite : after a careful examination he re- 
 turned my Manuscript, with some animadversion and much 
 applause; and when I visited London, in the ensuing 
 winter, we discussed the design and execution in several 
 free and familiar conversations. In a short exciu'sion to 
 Buriton I 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 
 preface, which is dated February 3'', 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 
 8irmond, a learned Jesuit, was still more rigid, since he 
 advised a young friend to expect the mature age of fift-y 
 before he gave himself or his writings to the public 
 (Olivet, Histoire de I'Academie Franfoise, tom. ii. p. 
 143). The counsel was singular, but it is still more 
 singular 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 Edition of Sidonius Apollinaris, with many valuable 
 annotations. (See his life, before the great Edition of his 
 works in five volumes in folio, Paris, 1696, e Typographia 
 Eegia.) 
 
 Two years elapsed in silence; but in the spring 
 of 1761 I yielded to the authority of a parent, and com- 
 plyed, like a pious son, with the wish of my own heart. 
 My private resolves were influenced by the state of 
 Europe. About this time the belligerent powers had 
 made and accepted overtures of peace : our English
 
 170 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 plenipotentiaries were named to assist at the Congress of 
 Augsburg, which, never met ; I wished to attend them as 
 a Gentleman or a secretary, and my father fondly believed 
 that the proof of some litterary 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 pro- 
 moted 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 
 certain number of copies, and, without transferring my 
 property, I devolved on the bookseller the charges and 
 profits of the Edition. Dr. Maty undertook, in my absence, 
 to correct the sheets : he inserted, without my knowledge, 
 an elegant and flS,ttering Epistle to the Author : which 
 is composed, however, with so much art that, in case 
 of a defeat, his favourable 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 sur 
 Vetiide de la litterature, a Londres, cJiez T. Becket et 
 P. A. de Hondt. 1761, in a small Volume in duodecimo. 
 My dedication t(j my father, a proper and pious addi-ess, 
 was composed the 28th of May : Dr. Maty's letter is dated 
 the 16th of June ; and I received the first copy (June the 
 23rd) at Alresford, 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 
 breakfasted in Colonel Pitt's tent ; [and as the regiment 
 was just returned from a field-day, the author appeared 
 before his Royal Highness, somewhat disordered with
 
 PUBLICATION OP THE ESSAY. 171 
 
 sweat and dust, in the Cap, dress, and acoiitrements of 
 a Captain of Grenadiers.] By my father's direction and 
 Mallet's advice, a number of copies were given to several 
 I^of their acquaintance and my own ; to the Duke of 
 Eichmond, the Marquis of Caernarvon, the Earls of Litch- 
 field, Waldegrave, Egremont, Shelburne, Bute, Hard- 
 wicke, Bath, Granville, and Chesterfield, Lady Hervey, 
 Sir Joseph Yorke, Sir Matthew Fetherstone, Messieurs 
 Walpole, Scott, Wray, etc.] : two books were sent to 
 the Count de Caylus, and the Dutchess d'Aiguillon, at 
 Paris ; I had reserved twenty for my friends at Lau- 
 sanne, 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 surprizing that a work, of which the style and 
 sentiments were so totally foreign, should have been 
 more successful abroad than at home. I was delighted 
 by the copious extracts, the warm commendations, and 
 the flattering predictions of the Journals of France and 
 Holland; and the next year (1762) a new Edition (I 
 believe at Geneva) extended the fame, or at 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 the 
 baldness of the English translation. The publication of 
 my Histpry fifteen years afterwards revived the memory 
 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 pyrated copy of
 
 172 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 the booksellers of Dublin ; and when a copy of the 
 original edition has been discovered in a sale, the 
 primitive value of half a cro^vn has risen to the fanciful 
 price of a Guinea or thirty shillings. Such is the power 
 of a name. 
 
 I have expatiated on the [[loss of my litterary maiden- 
 head] ; a memorable sera in the life of a student, when 
 he ventures to reveal the measiu'e of his mind. His 
 liopes and fears are multiplied by the idea of self- 
 importance, and he believes for a while that the eyes 
 of mankind are fixed on his person and iierformance. 
 Wliatsoever 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 aj)preciate my juvenile work 
 with the impartiality, and almost with the indifference, 
 of a stranger. In his answer to Lady Hervey, the Count 
 de Caylus admires, or affects to admire, " 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 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 obscurity and abruptness, 
 w hich always fatigues, and may often elude, the attention 
 of the reader. Instead of a precise and proper definition, 
 the title itself, the sense of the word Litterature is loosely 
 and variously applied : a number of remarks and ex- 
 amples, 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 passages is often affected, brcvis
 
 CRITICISM OF HIS OWN ESSAY. 173 
 
 esse laboro, obscurus fio ; the desire of expressing per- 
 haps a common idea with 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 in 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 Kome 
 and the new 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 dawning of a philosophic spirit en- 
 lightens the general remarks on the study of history and 
 of man. I am not displeased with the enquiry into the 
 origin and nature of the Gods of Polytheism. £In a 
 riper season of judgement and knowledge, I am tempted to 
 review the curious question whether these fabulous Deities 
 were mortal men or allegorical beings : perhaps the two 
 systems might be blended in one ; perhaps the distance 
 between them is in a great measure verbal and apparent. 
 In the rapid course of this narrative I have only time 
 to scatter two or three hasty observations. That in the 
 perusal of Homer a naturalist would pronounce his Gods 
 and men to be of the same species, since they were 
 capable of engendering together a fruitful progeny. That 
 before the Eeformation St. Francis and the Virgin Mary
 
 174 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoir B. 
 
 had almost attained a similar Apotheosis ; and that the 
 Saints and Angels, so different in their origin, were wor- 
 shipped with the same rites, by the same nations. That 
 the current of superstition and science flowed from India 
 to Egypt, from Egypt to Greece and Italy ; and that 
 the incarnations of the Ccelestial Deities, so darkly 
 shadowed in our fragments of Egyptian theology, are 
 copiously explained in the sacred books of the Hindoos. 
 Fifteen centuries before Christ, the great Osiris, the 
 invisible agent of the Universe, was born or manifested 
 at Thebes, in Boeotia, under the name of Bacchus; the 
 idea of Bishen is a metaphysical abstraction; the ad- 
 ventures of Kishen, his perfect image, are those of a man 
 who lived and died about five thousand years ago in the 
 neighbourhood of Delhi.] 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 which he had 
 painted in his youth, my friend Sir Joshua Eeynolds 
 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.* 
 
 * The intelligent modern reader smiled at his attributing the thirty 
 will be inclined to adopt Gibbon's years' quiet of the turbulent vote- 
 estimate of his early work. Its rans who composed the military 
 faults are very clearly indicated ; colonies to the pacific influence of 
 it is a collection of shrewd and Virgil's poetry. No subject has 
 acute observations, without order been pursued with greater erudi- 
 or connection. The defence of the tion and variety of opinion by 
 early History of Rome and of Continental scholars than the 
 Newton's Chronology are not more origin of polytheism. Gibbon's 
 than specious ; there is ingenuity, theory was far advanced beyond 
 but little more, in tlie theory about his age, and might suggest some- 
 the Georgics ; and Gibbon, in his thing like an amicable compromise 
 maturer judgment, might have between the Symbolists aud Anti-
 
 CRITICISM OF HIS OWN WORK. 175 
 
 At Lausanne I composed tlie 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 practise, without any 
 affectation, or design of repudiating (as Dr. Bentley would 
 say) my vernacular idiom. But I should have escaped 
 some Anti-gallican clamour had I been content with 
 the more natural character of an English author; I 
 should have been more consistent had I rejected Mallet's 
 [foolish] advice of prefixing an English dedication to a 
 French book; a confusion of tongues which seemed to 
 accuse the ignorance of my patron. The use of a foreign 
 dialect might be excused by the hope of being employed 
 as a negociator, by the desire of being generally under- 
 stood 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 consecrated by the service of the 
 Church ; it was refined by the imitation of the ancients ; 
 and in the XV"' and XVI"' Centuries the scholars 
 of Europe enjoyed the advantage, which they have 
 gradually resigned, of conversing and writing in a common 
 and learned idiom. As that idiom was no longer in any 
 country the vulgar speech, they all stood on a level with 
 each other ; yet a citizen of old Eome 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 
 
 Symbolists of Germany, the respec- fourth volume of the miscellaneous, 
 tive schools of Creuzer and Voss. works. — Milman. 
 The essay is to be found in the
 
 176 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoir B. 
 
 and barbarism. The Eomans themselves bad sometimes 
 attempted a more perilous task, of writing in a living 
 language, and appealing to the taste and judgement 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 forgot that, from infancy to 
 manhood, Cicero and his contemporaries had read and 
 declaimed and composed 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 Rhetoricians. 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 jMonarchy, and the exile of the protestants : several 
 foreigners have seized the opportunity of speaking to 
 Europe in this common dialect, and Germany may plead 
 the authority of licibnitz and Frederic, of the first of her 
 philosophers and the greatest of her Kings. The just 
 pride and laudable prejudice of England has restrained 
 the communication of idioms ; and, of all the nations 
 on this side of the Alps, my coimtrymen are the least 
 practised and least perfect in the exercise of the French 
 tongue. By Sir William Temple and Lord Chesterfield 
 it was only used on occasions of civility and business, and 
 their printed letters will not ])e quoted as models of 
 composition. Lord Bolingbroke may have published in 
 French a sketch of his reflections on exile ; but his
 
 THE MILITIA. 177 
 
 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 surprized that a long residence in 
 England, and the habits of domestic conversation, did not 
 aifect the ease and purity of his inimitable style ; and I 
 regret the omission of his English verses, which might 
 have afforded an amusing object of comparison. I might 
 therefore assume the " primus ego in patriam meam," 
 etc. ; but with what success I have explored this un- 
 trodden 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 expence. " Je 
 ne crois pas que vous vous piquiez d'etre moins facile 
 a reconnoitre pour un Anglois que Lucullus pour un 
 Eomain." My friends at Paris have been more indulgent : 
 they received me as a countryman, or at least as a 
 provincial ; but they were friends and Parisians. The 
 defects which Maty insinuates, ''ces traits saillans, ces 
 figures hardies, ce sacrifice de la regie au sentiment, et de 
 la cadence a la force," are the faults of the youth rather 
 than of the stranger ; and after the long and laborious 
 exercise of my own language, I am conscious that my 
 French style has been ripened and improved. 
 
 I have already hinted that the publication of my 
 Essay was delayed till I had embraced the military 
 profession. I shall now amuse myself with the recollec- 
 tion of an active scene which bears no affinity to any 
 
 N
 
 178 GIBBON-S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [ilEMom B. 
 
 other period of my studious and social life. [From the 
 general idea of a militia, I shall descend to the militia of 
 England in the war before the last ; to the state of the 
 Kegiment in which I served, and to the influence of that 
 service on my personal situation and character. 
 
 The defence of the state may be imposed on the 
 body of the people, or it may be delegated to a select 
 number of mercenaries ; the exercise of arms mav be an 
 occasional duty or a separate trade, and it is this differ- 
 ence which forms the distinction between a militia and 
 a standing army. Since the union of England smd 
 Scotland, the public safety has never been attacked, 
 and has seldom been threatened bv a foreign invader: 
 but the sea was long the sole safesruard of our isle. If 
 the reign of the Tudors or the Stuarts was often signalized 
 by the valour of our soldiers and sailors, they were dis- 
 missed at the end of the campaign or the expedition 
 for which they had been levied- The national spirit 
 at home had subsided in the peaceful occupations of 
 trade, manufactures, and husbandry, and if the obsolete 
 forms of a militia were preserved, their discipline in 
 the last age was less the object of confidence than of 
 ridicule. 
 
 " The countn.- rings around with loud alarms, 
 And raw in fields the rude Militia swarms : 
 Mouths without hands maintained at vast expence, 
 In peace a charge, in war a weak defence. 
 Stout once a month they march, a blust'ring band, 
 And ever but in times of need at hand. 
 This was the mom when, issuing on the guard, 
 Drawn up in rank and file they stood prepar'd, 
 Of seeming arms to make a short essay ; 
 Then hasten to be drunk — the business of the day." * 
 
 * Dryden, Cymon and Iphigenia.
 
 THE MILITIA. 179 
 
 The impotence of such unworthy soldiers was supplied 
 from the sera of the restoration by the establishment 
 of a bodv of mercenaries : the conclusion of each war 
 encreased the numbers that were kept on foot, and 
 although their progress was checked by the jealousy 
 of opposition, time and necessity reconciled, or at 
 least accustomed, a free country to the annual per- 
 petuity of a standing army. The zeal of our patriots, 
 both in and out of Parliament (I cannot add, both in 
 and out of office), complained that the sword had been 
 stolen from the hands of the people. They appealed to 
 the victorious example of the Greeks and Eomans, among 
 whom every citizen was a soldier ; and they applauded 
 the happiness and independence of Switzerland, which, 
 in the midst of the great monarchies of Europe, is 
 sufficientlv defended bv a constitutional and effective 
 militia. But their enthusiasm overlooked the modern 
 changes in the art of war, and the insuperable difference 
 of government and manners. The liberty of the Swiss 
 is maintained by the concurrence of political causes : 
 the superior discipline of their militia arises from the 
 numerous intermixture of Officers and soldiers whose 
 youth has been trained in foreign service ; and the annual 
 exercise of a few days is the sole tax which is imposed 
 on a martial people, consisting for the most part of 
 shepherds and husbandmen. In the primitive ages of 
 Greece and Rome, a war was determined by a battle, 
 and a battle was decided by the personal qualities of 
 strength, courage, and dexterity which every citizen 
 derived from his domestic education. The public quarrel 
 was his own ; he had himself voted in the assembly of 
 the people ; and the private passions of the majority had
 
 180 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoik B. 
 
 pronounced the general decree of the RejJiiblic. On the 
 event of the contest each freeman had staked his fortune 
 and family, his liberty and life ; and if the enemy prevailed, 
 he must expect to share in the common calamity of the 
 ruin or servitude of his native city. By such irresistible 
 motives were the first Greeks and Eomans summoned to 
 the field ; but when the art was improved, when the war 
 Avas protracted, their militia was transformed into a 
 standing army, or their freedom was oj)pressed by the 
 more regular forces of an ambitious neighbour. 
 
 Two disgraceful events, the progress in the year 
 forty-five of some naked highlanders, the invitation of 
 the Hessians and Hanoverians in fifty-six, had betrayed 
 and insulted the weakness of an unarmed people. The 
 country Gentlemen of England unanimously demanded 
 the establishment of a militia ; a patriot was expected — 
 
 " Otia qui rumpet patrise, residesque movebit 
 in anna vii-os." * 
 
 and the merit of the plan, or at least of the execution, 
 was assumed by Mr. Pitt, who was then in the full 
 splendour of his popularity and jjower. In the new 
 model the choice of the officers was founded on the most 
 constutional (sic) principle, since they were all obliged, 
 from the Colonel to the Ensign, to prove a certain quali- 
 fication, to give a landed security to the country, which 
 entrusted them for her defence with the use of arms. But 
 in the first steps of this institution the legislators of the 
 Militia despaired of imitating the practise of Switzerland. 
 Instead of summoning to the standard all the inhabitants 
 
 * " otia qui rumpet patriae residesque movebit 
 Tullua in arma viros, et jam desueta triumphis 
 Agmina." 
 
 (Virg. ^n. vi. 814).
 
 FEARS OF FEENCH AGGRESSION. 181 
 
 of the Kingdom who were not disabled by age, or excused 
 by some indispensable avocation, they directed that a 
 moderate proportion should be chosen by lot for the term 
 of three years, at the end of which their places were to 
 be supplied by a new and similar ballot. Every man 
 who was drawn had the option of serving in person, of 
 finding a substitute, or of paying ten pounds; and, in 
 a country already burthened, this honourable duty was 
 degraded into an additional tax. It is reported that the 
 subjects of Queen Elizabeth amounted to 1,172,674 men 
 able to bear arms (Hume's History of England, vol. v. 
 p. 482 of the last octavo edition) ; and if in the war 
 before the last many active and vigorous hands were 
 employed in the fleet and army, the difference must have 
 been amply compensated by the general encrease of popu- 
 lation, and we may smile at this mighty effort which 
 reduced the national defence to the puny establishment 
 of thirty -two thousand men. The Sunday afternoons had 
 first been appointed for their exercise, but superstition 
 clamoured against the profanation of the sabbath, and a 
 useful day was substracted from the labour of the week. 
 Whatever was the day, such rare and superficial practise 
 could never have entitled them to the character of 
 soldiers. But the King was invested with the power of 
 calling the Militia into actual service on the event or the 
 danger of rebellion or invasion; and in the year 1759 
 the British Islands were seriously threatened by the 
 armaments of France. At this crisis the national spirit 
 most gloriously disproved the charge of effeminacy which, 
 in a popular Estimate, had been imputed to the times ; a 
 martial enthusiasm seemed to have pervaded the land, and 
 a constitutional army w&s formed under the command of
 
 182 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 the nobility and gentry of England. After the naval 
 victory of Sir Edward Hawke * (November 20"', 1759), the 
 danger no longer subsisted ; yet, instead of disbanding 
 the first regiments of militia, the remainder Avas embodied 
 the ensuing year, and public unanimity applauded their 
 illegal continuance in the field till the end of the War. 
 In this new mode of service they were subject, like the 
 regulars, to martial law : they received the same advan- 
 tages of pay and cloathing, and the families, at least of 
 the principals, were maintained at the charge of the 
 parish. At a distance from their respective counties 
 these provincial corps were stationed, and removed, and 
 encamped by the command of the Secretary at War : the 
 oflicers and men were trained in the habits of subordina- 
 tion, nor is it surprizing that some regiments should have 
 assumed the discipline and apjDearance of veteran troops. 
 AVith the skill they soon imbibed the spirit of mercenaries, 
 the character of a militia was lost ; and, under that 
 specious name, the crown had acquired a second army 
 more costly and less useful than the first. The most 
 berieficial effect of this institution was to eradicate among 
 the Country gentlemen the relicks of Tory, or rather of 
 Jacobite prejudice. The accession of a British king 
 reconciled them to the government, and even to the 
 court ; but thev have been since accused of transferrinfi: 
 their passive loyalty from the Stuarts to the family of 
 Brunswick ; and I have heard ^Iv. Burke exclaim in the 
 house of Commons, " They have changed the Idol, but 
 they have preserved the Idolatry." 
 
 By the general ardour of the times, my father, a 
 
 * Hia victory over De Conflans, near Quiberon.
 
 THE HAMPSHIRE MILITIA. 183 
 
 new Cincinnatus, was drawn from the plough : his 
 authority and advice prevailed on me to relinquish 
 my studies ; a general meeting was held at Winchester ; 
 and before we knew the consequences of an irre- 
 trievable step, we accepted (June 12"', 1759) our re- 
 spective commissions of Major and Captain in the 
 South battalion of the Hampshire. The proportion of 
 the County of Southampton had been fixed at nine 
 hundred and sixty men, who were divided into the two 
 regiments of the North and South, each consisting of 
 eight companies. By the special exemption of the isle 
 of Wight we lost a company ; our Colonel resigned, and 
 we were reduced to the legal definition of an independent 
 battalion, of a Lieutenant-Colonel Commandant (Sir 
 Thomas Worsley, Baronet *), a Major, five Captains, seven 
 lieutenants, seven Ensigns, twenty-one Serjeants, fourteen 
 drummers, and four hundred and twenty rank and file. I 
 will not renew our prolix and passionate dispute with the 
 Duke of Bolton, our Lord-Lieutenant, which at that time 
 appeared to me an object of the most serious importance : 
 by the interpretation of an act of parliament, we con- 
 tested his right of naming himself Colonel of the two 
 Battalions ; after the final decision of the Attorney- 
 general and Secretary at War, his poor revenge was 
 confined to the use and abuse of his power, in the choice 
 of an Adjutant and the promotion of officers. In the 
 year 1759 our ballot was slowly compleated, and as the 
 fear of an invasion passed away, we began to hope, my 
 father and myself, that our campaigns would extend 
 no farther than Petersfield and Alton, the seat of our 
 
 * Of Pilewell, Hants, and Appuldurcombe, Isle of "Wight. He died 
 in 176S.
 
 184 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 particular companies. We were undeceived by the king's 
 sign-manual for our embodying, which was issued May 
 10"', 1760. It was too late to retreat ; it was too soon to 
 repent : the Battalion on the 4th of June assembled at 
 Winchester, from whence, in about a fortnight, we were 
 removed, at our own request, for the benefit of a foreign 
 education. In a new-raised Militia the neighbourhood of 
 home was always found inconvenient to the officers and 
 mischievous to the men. 
 
 The battalion continued in actual service above two 
 years and a half, from May 10, 1760, to December 23, 
 1762. In this period of a military life I have neither 
 sieges nor battles to relate ; but, like my brother Major 
 Sturgeon, I shall describe our marches and counter- 
 marches as they are faithfully recorded in my own journal 
 or commentary of the times, i. Our first and most agree- 
 able station was at Blandford, in Dorsetshire, where we 
 enjoyed about two months (June 17 — August 23) the 
 beauty of the country, the hospitality of the neighbouring 
 gentlemen, the novelty of command and exercise, and the 
 consciousness of our daily and rapid improvements, ii. 
 From this school we were led against the enemy, a body 
 of French three thousand two hundred strong, who had 
 occupied Portchester castle, near Portsmouth : it must 
 not, indeed, be dissembled that our enemies were naked, 
 unarmed prisoners, the object of pity rather than of 
 terror ; their misery was somewhat alleviated by public 
 and private bounty, but their sufferings exhibited the 
 evils of war, and their noisy spirits the character of the 
 nation. During the months of September, October, and 
 November, 1760, we performed this disagreable duty by 
 large detachments of a Captain, four subalterns, and two
 
 CHANGING QUARTERS. 185 
 
 hundred and thirty men, at first from Hilsea barracks, 
 and afterwards from our quarters at Titchfield and 
 Fareham. The barraclvs within the Portsmouth lines are 
 a square of low, ill- built huts, in a damp and dreary 
 situation : on this unwholsome spot we lost many men 
 by feavers and the small-pox ; and our dispute with the 
 Duke of Bolton, which produced a series of arrests, 
 memorials, and court-martials, was not less pernicious to 
 the discipline than to the peace of the regiment, iii. Ke- 
 joycing in our escape from this sink of distemper and 
 discord, we performed with alacrity a long march (De- 
 cember 1-11) to Cranbrook, in the Weald of Kent, 
 where we had been sent to guard eighteen hundred 
 French prisoners at Sissinghurst. The inconceivable 
 dirtyness of the season, the country, and the spot 
 aggravated the hardships of a duty too heavy for our 
 numbers ; but these hardships were of short duration, and 
 before the end of the month we were relieved by the 
 interest of our Tory friends under the new reign, iv. At 
 Dover, in the space of five months, we began to breathe 
 (December 27, 1760— May 31, 1761) ; for the men the 
 quarters were healthy and plentiful, and our dull leisure 
 was enlivened by the society of the fourteenth Regiment 
 in the castle, and some sea-parties in the spring. Our 
 persecutions were at an end : the command was settled ; 
 we smiled at our own prowess, as we exercised each morn- 
 ing in sight of the French coast; and before we left 
 Dover we had recovered the union and discipline which 
 we possessed at our departure from Blandford. v. In the 
 summer of 1761 a camp was formed near Winchester, in 
 which we solicited and obtained a place. Our march 
 from Dover to Alton, in Hampshire, was a pleasant walk
 
 186 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 (June 1-12) : I was appointed Captain of the new 
 company of Grenadiers, and, with proper cloathing and 
 acoutrements, we assumed somewhat of the appearance 
 of regular troops. The four months (June 25 — October 
 21) of this encampment were the most splendid and 
 useful period of our military life. Our establishment 
 amounted to near five thousand men — the thirty-fourth 
 Kegiment of foot, and six militia corps, the Wiltshire, 
 Dorsetshire, South Hampshire, Berkshire, and the North 
 and South Gloucestershire. The regulars were satisfied 
 with their ideal pre-eminence ; the Gloucestershire, Berk- 
 shire, and Dorsetshire approached by successive steps the 
 superior merit of the Wiltshire, the pride and pattern 
 of the Militia — an active, steady, well-appointed regiment 
 of eight hundred men, which had been formed by the 
 strict and skilfull discipline of their Colonel, Lord Bruce.* 
 At our entrance into camp we w^ere indisputably the last 
 and worst ; but we were excited by a generous shame — 
 " Extremos pudeat rediisse " — 
 
 and such was our indefatigable labour that, in the 
 general reviews, the South Hampshire were rather a 
 credit than a disgrace to the line. A friendly emulation, 
 ready to teach and eager to learn, assisted our mutual 
 progress ; but the great evolutions, the exercise of acting 
 and moving as an army which constitutes' the best lessons 
 of a camp, never entered the thoughts of the Earl of 
 Effingham,t our drowzy General, vi. The Devizes, our 
 
 * Thomas Bruce Brudenell, born in the same yeai*. Died 1814. 
 
 1730, succeeded liis uncle as second f Thomas Howard, second Earl 
 
 Baron Bruce of Tottenham, 1747. of Effingham, .succeeded his father 
 
 The earldom of Ailesbury, which 1743 ; died 17G3. His wife, Eiiza- 
 
 liad become extinct on the death beth Berkford, was a sister of the 
 
 of his predecessor, the tliird earl, in author of Vatheh. 
 1747, was revived in his favour
 
 MILITIA EXPERIENCES. 187 
 
 winter quarters during four months (October 23, 1761 — 
 February 28, 1762), are a populous town, full of disorder 
 and disease : the men who were allowed to work earned 
 too much money, and their drunken quarrels with the 
 townsmen and Colonel Barre's black musqueteers * were 
 painfully repressed by the sharp sentences of one and 
 twenty Court-martials. The Devizes afforded, however, 
 a great number of fine young recruits, whom we enlisted 
 from the Kegimental stock-purse without much regard 
 to the forms or the spirit of the Militia laws. vii. After 
 a short march and halt at Salisbury, we paid a second 
 visit of ten weeks (March 9— May 31) to our old 
 friends at Blandford, where, in that garden of Eng- 
 land, we again experienced the warm and constant 
 hospitality of the natives. The spring was favourable 
 to our military exercise, and the Dorsetshire Gentlemen, 
 who had cherished our infancy now applauded a Regi- 
 ment in appearance and discipline, not inferior to their 
 own. viii. The necessity of discharging a great number 
 of men, whose term of three years was expired, forbade 
 our encampment in the summer of 1762, and the colours 
 were stationed at Southampton in the last six or seven 
 months (June — December) of our actual service. But 
 after so long an indulgence we could not complain that, 
 during many of the first and last weeks of this period, 
 a detachment almost equal to the whole was required 
 to guard the French prisoners at Forton and Fareham. 
 The operation of the ballot was slow and tedious. In 
 the months of August and September our life at South- 
 ampton was, indeed, gay and busy ; the battalion had 
 
 * The lOGth Eegiment, raised in the peace ; it was commanded by 
 1761 and disbanded shortly alter Colonel Isaac Barre.
 
 188 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [^Iemoiu B. 
 
 been renewed in youth and vigour, and so rapid was the 
 improvement that, had the militia lasted another year, 
 we should not have yielded to the most perfect of our 
 brethren. The prelinaries (sic) of peace and the suspen- 
 sion of arms determined our fate : we were dismissed 
 with the thanks of the king and parliament, and on the 
 23rd of December, 1762, the companies were disembodyed 
 at their respective homes. The officers possessed of 
 property rejoiced in their freedom ; those who had none 
 lamented the loss of their pay and profession ; but it 
 was found by experience that the greatest part of the 
 men were rather civilized than corrupted by the habits 
 of military subordination.] 
 
 A young mind, unless it be of a cold and languid 
 temper, is dazzled even by the play of arms ; and in 
 the first sallies of my enthusiasm I had seriously wished 
 and tryed to embrace the regular profession of a soldier. 
 The military leaver was cooled by the enjoyment of our 
 mimic Bellona, who gradually unveiled her naked de- 
 formity. How often did I sigh for my true situation 
 of a private gentleman and a man of letters : how often 
 did I repeat the complaints of Cicero " Clitellae bovi 
 sunt impositse. Est incredibile quam me negotii taedeat. 
 Hie cursus animi et industriae mese praeclara opera cessat. 
 Lucem, lihros, urbem, domum, vos desidero. Sed feram 
 ut potero, sit modo annuum ; Si prorogatur, actum est." * 
 From a service witliout danger I might indeed have 
 
 * "Est incredibile quain me forum, urbem, domum, vos desidero. 
 
 negotii tsedeat. Nou habet satis Sed feram ut potero; sit modo 
 
 magnum campum, ille tibi non annuum. Si prorogatur actum est 
 
 igiiotus cursus animi et industrite . . . clitcllso bovi sunt impositse, 
 
 meaj praeclara opera cessat. . . . Cillane, non est nostrum onus." — 
 
 Denique haec non desidero ; lucem, Epist. ad Atticum, lib. v. 15.
 
 EXPERIENCES OF MILITIA LIFE. 189 
 
 retired without disgrace ; but as often as I hiuted a wish 
 of resigning, my fetters were riveted by [my father's 
 authority, the entreaties of Sir Tliomas Worsley, and 
 some regard for the wellfare of a corps of which I was 
 the principal sujaport. My proper province was the care 
 of my own, and afterwards of the Grenadier, company : 
 but, with the rank of first captain, I possessed the con- 
 fidence, and supplied the place of the Colonel and Major. 
 In their presence or in their absence I acted as the 
 commanding officer : every memorial and letter relative 
 to our disputes was the work of my pen ; the detach- 
 ments or court-martials of any delicacy or importance 
 were my extraordinary duties ; and to supersede the 
 Duke of Bolton's adjutant, I al\\ays exercised the Bat- 
 talion in the field. Sir Thomas Worsley was an easy 
 good-humoured man fond of the table and of his bed ; 
 our conferences were marked by every stroke of the 
 midnight and morning hours, and the same drum which 
 invited him to rest has often summoned me to the parade. 
 His example encouraged the daily practise of hard and 
 even excessive drinking which has sown in my constitu-^ 
 tion the seeds of the gout]. The loss of so many busy and 
 idle hours was not compensated by any elegant pleasure ; 
 and my temper was insensibly soured by the society of our 
 rustic officers [who were alike deficient in the knowledge 
 of scholars, and the manners of gentlemen]. 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 battalion 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 London to-
 
 190 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 [Memoir B. 
 
 quarters, on the slightest call of private or regimental 
 business. But my principal obligation to the militia was 
 the making me an Englishman and a soldier. After my 
 foreign education, with my reserved temper, I should long 
 have continued a stranger in my native country, had I not 
 been shaken in this various scene of new faces and new 
 friends ; had not experience forced me to feel the cha- 
 racters 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 Avriter 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 Legions, and the Captain of the 
 Hampshire grenadiers (the reader may smile) has not 
 been useless to the historian of the Roman Empire. 
 
 When I complain of the loss of time, justice to myself 
 and to the Militia must throw the greatest part of that 
 reproach on the first seven or eight months, while I was 
 
 * Charles TheophilusGuischardt 
 (or Guichard), a member of a 
 French refugee family, was bom 
 in Magdeburg iu 1724 or 1725 : 
 he was destined for the Protestant 
 ministry, but following his natural 
 bent, he became a soldier, and 
 served in the Dutch army. 
 
 After the treaty of Aix-la-Cha- 
 pelle in 1748, he employed his 
 leisure in writing his Memoires 
 militaires sur Ififs Gvecs et les Bo- 
 mains. He subsequently translated 
 the Military Institutions uf Ono- 
 sandcr, Arrian's Tactics, and Hir- 
 tius' Analysis of Cajsar's campaigns 
 
 in Africa. When Frederic the 
 Great was in Silesia in 1757, he 
 summoned Guischardt to Breslau, 
 and was much attracted by him. 
 He asked him on one occasion 
 whom he considered the best of 
 Cajsar's aides-de-camp. " Quintus 
 Icilius," replied Guischardt. 
 " Then," said Frederic, " you shall 
 be my Quintus Icilius" — a sobri- 
 quet which he thenceforward as- 
 sumed. He rose to the rank of 
 colonel in the King's service, and 
 in 177o brought out an enlarged 
 edition of his work, and died in 
 1775.
 
 RETURN TO STUDIES. 191 
 
 obliged to learu as well as to teach. The dissipation of 
 Blaudford and the disputes of Portsmouth consumed the 
 hours which were not employed in the field; and amid the 
 perpetual hurry of an Inn, a barrack, or a guard-room, all 
 litterary ideas were banished from my mind. After this 
 long fast, the longest which I have ever known, I once 
 more tasted at Dover the pleasures of reading and think- 
 ing, and the hungry appetite with which I opened a 
 volume of Tully's philosophical works is still present to 
 my memory. The last review of my Essay before its 
 publication had prompted me to investigate the Nature 
 of the Gods : my enquiries led me to the Histoire 
 Critique du 3Ianicheisme of Beausobre, who discusses 
 many deep questions of Pagan and Christian Theology ; 
 and from this rich treasury of facts and opinions I deduced 
 my own consequences, beyond the holy circle of the 
 Author. After this recovery I never relapsed into indo- 
 lence ; and my example might prove that in the life most 
 adverse to study some hours may be stolen, some minutes 
 may be snatched : amidst the tumult of Winchester 
 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 Buriton two or 
 three months of litterary repose. In forming a new j)lan 
 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
 
 192 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoik B. 
 
 1 had given the preference to Greek, the example 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 
 became easy and familiar, and each day I sailed on the 
 Ocean with a brisker gale and a more steady course. 
 
 Ev 5* ayffios TTp7\(rev fiecrou 'kttiov, afx<pi 5e /cu/xa 
 Sreiprj Trop(pvpfoi/ fxfya\' tax^, vr]os tov(rr]s : 
 'H 5' edefv Kara KVfia Siairp-qffffovffa Kf\evda.* 
 
 In the study of a poet who has since become the 
 most intimate of my friends, I successively applied many 
 passages and fragments of Greek writers, and among these 
 I shall notice a life of Homer, in the Opuscula Mytho- 
 logica of Gale, several books of the Geography of Strabo, 
 and the entire treatises 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 indelible 
 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 commentary 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 fifty close-written 
 
 * 'Ev 5'fivf/ios TrpTJcre ftecrov Iffrlov, a/x^l Se Kv/xa 
 2rflpr) TToptpvpiov fj.fya.X'' iSx*' '''?^s lov(n]s ' 
 H i'fOtf Kurd KVfjia Siairpvcrcrovtra KiKfvQov. 
 
 miad, i. 481.)
 
 EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL. 193 
 
 pages in folio could scarcely comprize 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 Genius, any natural pro- 
 pensity of the mind to one art or science rather than 
 another. Without engaging in a metaphysical or rather 
 verbal dispute, I hnow, 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 publication of 
 my Essay, this idea ripened in my mind ; nor can I paint 
 in more lively colours the feelings of the moment than by 
 transcribing some passages, under their respective dates, 
 from a Journal which I kept at that time. 
 
 BuKiTON, Apkil 14, 1761. 
 
 {In a short excursion from Dover.) 
 
 " Having thought of several subjects for an historical 
 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 (Tom. xvii. 
 pp. 539-607), and abstracted them. I likewise finished 
 this day a dissertation, in which I examined the right 
 of Charles VIII. to the crown of Naples, and the 
 rival claims of the houses of Anjou and Arragon. It 
 consists of ten folio pages, besides large notes." 
 
 BuRiTON, August 4, 1761. 
 
 (In a weeJcs excursion from Winchester camp.) 
 
 " After having long revolved subjects for my intended 
 historical Essay, I renounced my first thought of the 
 
 o
 
 ]94 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 expedition of Charles VIII. as too remote from us, and 
 rather an introduction to great events than great and 
 important in itself. I successively chose and rejected 
 the Crusade of Kichard the First, the Barons' Wars 
 against John and Henry III., the history of Edward the 
 black Prince, the lives and comparison of Henry V. 
 and the Emperor Titus, the life of Sir Philip Sidney, 
 or of the Marquis of Montrose. At length I have fixed 
 on Sir Walter Kaleigh for my 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 execu- 
 tion 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 ressources, I read 
 the life of Sir Walter Ealeigh 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." 
 
 BuRiTON, January, 1762. 
 
 (In a montlis 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
 
 JOURNAL OP STUDIES. 195 
 
 great man in the first Volume of liis worlcs, witli many 
 of his letters in the second ; Sir William Monson's Naval 
 tracts; and the elaborate life of Sir Walter Ealeigh, 
 which Mr. Oldys has prefixed to the best edition of 
 his history of the World. My subject opens upon me, 
 and in general improves on a nearer prospect." 
 
 BuRiTON, July 26, 1762. 
 
 (During my summer residence.) 
 
 " 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 aera of our English 
 annals. The life of Sir Walter Ealeigh 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 
 object, and whose ample collections are arranged with 
 perspicuity and method. Except some anecdotes lately 
 revealed in the Sidney and Bacon Papers, I know not 
 what I should be able to add. My ambition (exclusive 
 of the uncertain merit of style and sentiment) must be 
 confined to the hope of giving a good abridgement of 
 Oldys. I have even the disappointment of finding- 
 some parts of this copious work very dry and barren, 
 and these parts are unluckily some of the most cha- 
 racteristic : Kaleigh's colony of Virginia, his quarrels 
 with Essex, the true secret of his conspiracy, and, 
 above all, the detail of his private life, the most 
 essential and important to a Biographer. My best 
 ressource would be in the circumjacent history of the
 
 196 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 times, and perhaps in some digressions artfully intro- 
 duced, like the fortunes of the Peripatetic philosophy 
 in the portrait of Lord Bacon. But the reigns of 
 Elizabeth and James I. are the period of English 
 history which has 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 WaJpole, the critical spirit of 
 Hurd, the vigorous sense of Mallet and Robertson, and 
 the impartial philosophy of Hume. Could I even sur- 
 mount these obstacles, I should shrink with terror from 
 the modern history of England, where every character 
 is a problem, and every reader a friend 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 his- 
 torian of Raleigh must encounter an indifference far more 
 bitter than censure or reproach. The events of his life 
 are interesting ; but his character is ambiguous, his actions 
 are obscure, his writings are English, and his fame is con- 
 fined 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 indepen- 
 dence 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 Burgundy. 
 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 
 I hope, whose talents, whatsoever they may be, would 
 be inflamed by the zeal of patriotism ? But the materials
 
 HISTORICAL PROJECTS. 197 
 
 of this history are inaccessible 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 contrast 
 of the former history : the one a poor, warlike, virtuous 
 Eepublic, which emerges into glory and freedom ; the 
 other a Commonwealth, soft, opulent, and corrupt, which, 
 by just degrees, is precipitated from the abuse to the 
 loss of her liberty : both lessons are, perhaps, equally 
 instructive. This second subject is, Tlie history of the 
 Repuhlic of Florence, under the house of Medicis : a 
 period of one hundred and fifty years, which rises or 
 descends from the dregs of the Florentine democracy 
 to the title and dominion of Cosmo de Medicis in the 
 Grand Duchy of Tuscany. I might deduce a chain 
 of revolutions not unworthy of 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 
 Savanarola, and the revival of arts and letters in Italy, 
 will be essentially connected with the elevation of 
 the family and the fall of the Eepublic. The Medicis 
 ('stirps quasi fataliter nata ad instauranda vel fovenda 
 studia.' Lipsius ad Germanos et Gallos, Epist. vii.) 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 
 when, or where, or hoio will it be executed ? I behold 
 in a dark and doubtful perspective 
 
 ' Res alta terra, et caligine mersas.' "
 
 198 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik B. 
 
 The youthful habits of the language and manners of 
 France had left in my mind an ardent desire of revisit- 
 ing the continent on a larger and more liberal plan. 
 According to the law of custom, and perhaps of reason, 
 foreign travel completes the education of an English 
 Gentleman : 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 employed in the preparations of my journey, and 
 the farewell visits of friendship and civility ; my last act 
 in town was to applaud Mallet's new tragedy of Elvira ; 
 a post-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 disbanding of the iMilitia. 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 agreable to my taste and 
 judgement. 
 
 In this first visit I passed three months and a half 
 (January 28 — May 9) at Paris, and a much longer space 
 might have been agreably 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 
 knowledge, 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 of the morning to the circuit of Paris
 
 PARIS. 199 
 
 and the neighbourhood, to the visit of churches and 
 palaces conspicuous 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 Englishman 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 the government and Keligion. In 
 the absence of Lewis 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 distributed in their country seats ; and 
 we should be astonished at our own riches, if the labours 
 of architecture, the spoils of Italy and Greece, which are 
 now scattered from Inverary to Wilton, were accumulated 
 in a few streets between Marybone 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 
 taste ; 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 Curate. In this outset, and still more in the 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.
 
 200 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 But the principal end of my journey was to enjoy the 
 
 society of a polished 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. 
 
 *' Clarum et venevabile nomen 
 Gentibus." 
 
 Our opinions, our fashions, even our games, were adopted 
 in France ; a ray of national glory illuminated each 
 individual, 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 writing in the 
 French language entitled me to some returns of civility 
 and gratitude. I was considered as a man of letters, £pr 
 rather as a gentleman] who wrote for his amusement : [my 
 appearance, dress, and equipage distinguished me from 
 the tribe of authors who, even at Paris, are secretly 
 envied and desj)ised by those who possess the advantages 
 of birth, fortune.] Before my departure I had obtained 
 from the Duke de Nivernois, Lady Hervey, the Mallets, 
 Mr. Walpole, etc., many letters of recommendation to 
 their private or litterary friends. Of these epistles the 
 reception and success was determined by the character 
 and situation of the persons by whom and to w^hom 
 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
 
 SOCIETY IN PARIS. 201 
 
 to praise the national nrbanity, which from the court 
 has diffused its gentle influence to the shop, the 
 cottage, and the schools. Of the men of Genius of 
 the age, Montesquieu and Fontenelle were no more ; 
 Voltaire resided on his own estate near Geneva ; Eousseau 
 in the preceding year had been driven from his hermitage 
 of Montmorency ; and I blush at my neglecting to seek, 
 in this journey, the acquaintance of Buff on. Among the 
 men of letters whom I saw, d'Alembert and Diderot held 
 the foremost rank in merit, or at least in fame : [these 
 two associates were the elements of water and fire ; but 
 the eruption was clouded with smoke, and the stream, 
 though devoid of grace, was limpid and copious.] I 
 shall content myself with enumerating the well-known 
 names of the Count de Caylus,* of the Abbes de la 
 Bleterie, f Barthelemy, | Eaynal, § Arnaud, || of Messieurs 
 de la Condamine,1I Duclos,** de Ste. Palaye, ft tie 
 
 * Anne-Claude-Philippe, Comte able ability, but of no grtat 
 
 de Caylus (1692-1765), an artist industry, and his works were 
 
 and archaBologist, and patron of the mostly of a fugitive character. He 
 
 arts : he travelled in the East, and wrote a Letire sur la musique an 
 
 bequeathed some valuable collec- Comte de Caylus, and was jointly 
 
 tions to the Bibliotheque du Roi. with M. Suard editor of VRistoire 
 
 t J. B. Re'ne' de la Bletterie ancienne des peuples de VEurope 
 
 (1696-1772) translated Tacitus, par du Buat. 
 
 and wrote lives of Julian the Apos- ^ Charles Marie de la Conda- 
 
 tate and of the Emperor Jovian. mine (1701-1774), traveller and 
 
 X Jean Jacques Barthe'leray mathematician; wrote iieZaijoTid'wTi 
 
 (1716-1795), author of Voyage du voyagedansVirMrieurdeVAmerique 
 
 Jeune Anacharsis en Grece, and of m^ridionale and Histoire des Fyra- 
 
 several archteological papers. mides de Quito. 
 
 § GuillauraeT.F.Raynal(1713- ** Charles Pineau Du Clos 
 
 1796) threw up his orders to join (1701-1722) wrote a history of the 
 
 the Encyclopedists ; became editor reiirns of Louis XL, and Louis 
 
 of the Mercure, and in 1770 pub- XIV. and XV. ; a novel. Acajou et 
 
 lished his famous Histoire philoso- ZirphiJe, and Coitside'rations sur les 
 
 phique des deux Indes. Late in mceurs. 
 
 life he formally renounced his ft Jean Baptiste de la Curne de 
 
 republican opinions. Ste. Palaye (1697-1781), author of 
 
 II Francois Arnaud (1721-17S4) M^inoires sur V ancienne Chevalerie 
 
 was for a time Abbot of Grand- and Histoire des Troubadours. 
 champ : lie was a man of consider-
 
 202 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [ME>rom B. 
 
 Bougainville,* Caperonnier,t de Giiignes,| Suard,§ etc., 
 without attempting to discriminate the shades of their 
 characters, or the degrees of our connection. Alone, 
 in a morning visit, I commonly found the wits and 
 authors of Paris less vain, and more reasonable, than 
 in the circles of their equals, with whom they mingle 
 
 * Jean Pierre de Bougainville 
 (1722-1763), brother of the famous 
 traveller, was secretary of the 
 Acade'mie des Inscriptions, and 
 author of Parallele de I' Expedition 
 d^ Alexandre dans leg lades avec 
 cette de Thamas Kouli-Khan. 
 
 t Jean Oapperonuier (1716- 
 1775) was professor of Greek, and 
 afterwards librarian of the Bibli- 
 otheque du Roi in Paris. He 
 edited several classical authors, as 
 well as Joinville's Histoire de St. 
 Louis. 
 
 X Joseph de Guignes (1721- 
 1800), an Orientalist, and author of 
 several learned works on the 
 Huns, Turks, and Tartars ; he was 
 made a member of the Royal 
 Society in 1752. 
 
 § Jean Baptiste Antoine Suard 
 (1733-1817) was secretary of the 
 Acade'mie Fiangaise. He trans- 
 lated into French Robertson's 
 History of America, Charles V., and 
 Cook's Voyages; wrote Lettres sur 
 Gluck et Piccini, etc. 
 
 In an article in the Quarterly 
 Bevieiv (No. 100), by Dean Milman, 
 the following passage from M. 
 Suard's description of Gibbon at 
 this time is quoted : — 
 
 "As to his manners in society, 
 without doubt the agreeableness 
 (amabilit^) of Gibbon was neither 
 tliat yielding and retiring coni- 
 plaisancp, nor that modesty which 
 is forgetful of self; but his vanity 
 (^amour-propre') never showed itself 
 in an offensive manner : anxious 
 to succeed and to please, he wished 
 to command attention, and obtained 
 it without difiiculty by a conversa- 
 tion animated, sprightly, and full 
 of mutter : all tliat was dictatorial 
 
 (tranchant) in his tone betrayed 
 not so much that desire of domi- 
 neering over others, which is always 
 offensive, as confidence in himself; 
 and that contidence was justified 
 both by his powers and by his 
 success. Notwithstanding this, 
 his conversation never carried one 
 away (n^entrainait jamais) ; its 
 fault was a kind of arrangement, 
 which never permitted him to say 
 anything unless well. This fault 
 might be attributed to the diffi- 
 culty of S]ieaking a foreign lan- 
 guage, had not his friend, Lord 
 Sheffield, who defends him from 
 this suspicion of study in his con- 
 versation, admitted at tlie least 
 that before he wrote a note or a 
 letter he arranged completely in 
 his mind what he wished to 
 express. He appears, indeed, al- 
 ways to have written thus. Dr. 
 Gregory, in his Letters on Litera- 
 ture, says that Gibbon composed 
 as he was walking up and down 
 his room, and that he never wrote 
 a sentence without having per- 
 fectly formed and arranged it in 
 his head. Besides, French was at 
 least as familiar to him as English ; 
 his residence at Lausanne, where 
 he spoke it exclusively, had made 
 it for some time his habitual lan- 
 guage ; and one would not have 
 supposed that he had ever spoken 
 any other, if he had not been 
 betrayed by a very strong accent, 
 by certain tics of pronunciation, 
 certain sharp tones, whicli, to ears 
 accustomed from infancy to softer 
 inflexions of voice, marred the 
 ])leasure which was felt in listening 
 to him."
 
 MESDAMES GEOFFEIN AND DU BOCCAGE. 203 
 
 in the houses of the rich. Four days in the week 
 I had a place, without invitation, at the hospitable 
 tables of ]\Iesdames Gi-eoffrin * and du Bocage, t of the 
 celebrated Helvetius,t and of the Baron d'Olbach : § in 
 these Symposia the pleasures of the table were improved 
 by lively and liberal conversation ; the company was 
 select, though various and voluntary, |[and each un- 
 bidden guest might mutter a proud, an ungrateful 
 sentence. 
 
 AvTo/xaTut S'ayaOoi 5ei\ci}V eiri Sairas lacriv. \\ 
 
 * Marie Therese Rodet (1699- 
 1777) was marrieii, at the age of 
 fifteen, to M. Geoflfrin, a colonel in 
 the Paris militia. She was early 
 left a widow, and for many years 
 maintained one of the most re- 
 markable salons in Paris. It was 
 said that no stranger who had not 
 been present at these gatherings 
 had seen Paris. Without any culti- 
 vated education herself, she sup- 
 plied the want by her remarkable 
 tact, combined with an unusual 
 benevolence of disposition. She 
 held two dinners a week, for lite- 
 rary men and artists respectively, 
 and was always ready out of her 
 limited means to assist those who 
 were in difficulties. 
 
 Stanislas Poniatowski, when he 
 succeeded to the throne of Poland, 
 never forgot his obligations to 
 Madame Geoffrin, and she paid 
 him a visit in Warsaw in her sixty- 
 eighth year. On her way thither 
 she received a remarkable welcome 
 at the court of the Emperor of 
 Austria. 
 
 Her manners were brusque and 
 naive, and it is this which probably 
 gave offence to Gibbon. 
 
 t Miirie Anne Le Page, the wife 
 of Fiquet du Boccage (1710-1802), 
 was a woman of a very cultivated 
 mind, who, as a leader of society 
 and a poetess, won her way to the 
 first rank. 
 
 Her first success was in gaining 
 
 the prize at the Acade'mie at Eouen 
 with her poem, Prix alternatif entre 
 les belles-lettres et les Sciences. Her 
 Mort d'Abel was an attempt to imi- 
 tate the style of Milton. Chief 
 among her other works are Les 
 Amazones and La Columbiade. 
 When she was received by Vol- 
 taire at Femey, he placed a laurel 
 wreath on her head. 
 
 X Claude Adrien Helvetius 
 (1715-1771): his work,de VEsprit, 
 in which his materialistic philo- 
 sophy is set forth, was condemned 
 by the Sorbonne, the Pope, and the 
 Parliament, and was publicly burnt, 
 1759. He was also the author of 
 VHornme, le Bonheur, and some 
 poems. 
 
 § Paul Thiry, Baron d'Holbach 
 (1723-1789), wrote, among many 
 other works, his Systeme de la Na- 
 ture (1770), in which he states the 
 arguments for materialism. He 
 married Mdlle. d'Aine ; and, on 
 her death, married, with the sanc- 
 tion of the Pope, her sister. Rous- 
 seau speaks of liim as "un fils de 
 parvenu, qui jouissait d'une assez 
 grande fortune dont il usait noble- 
 ment, recevant chez lui des gens 
 de lettres, et par son savoir et sea 
 connaissances tenant bien sa place 
 au milieu d'eux." 
 
 11 'Avrd/xaroi 5'a.yadol SeiKwi/ e-n-l 
 Sairas Xaai, 
 
 (Eupolis, xp^o'ow ytvos.)
 
 204 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 Yet I was often disgusted with the capricious tyranny 
 of Madame Geoffrin, nor could I approve the intolerant 
 zeal of the philosophers and Encyclopaedists the friends 
 of d'Olbach and Helvetius ; they laughed at the scepti- 
 cism of Hume, preached the tenets of Atheism with the 
 bigotry of dogmatists, and damned all believers with 
 ridicule and contempt.] The society of Madame du 
 Bocage was more soft and moderate than that of 
 her rivals, and the evening conversations of Mr. 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 amusement. 
 Two famous actresses then divided the public applause : 
 for my own part, I preferred the consummate 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. [I have reserved for the 
 last the most pleasing connection which I formed at 
 Paris — the acquisition of a female friend, by whom I 
 was sure of being received every evening with the smile 
 of confidence and joy. I delivered a letter from Mrs. 
 Mallet to Madame Bontems,t who had distinguished her- 
 self by a translation of Thomson's Seasons into French 
 
 * Etienne Laurcault de Fouce- He was a brilliant conversationalist, 
 
 magne (1G'J4-1779) wrote several and a man of a most benevolent 
 
 papers on primitive historical sub- disposition. 
 
 jocts in Journal of the Academic t Marie Jeanne de Chatillon, 
 
 dcs Inscriptions, but his chief lite- wife of Pierre Henri Bontemps, 
 
 rary achievement was Ids contro- paymaster of the forces in Paris, 
 
 versy with Voltaire concerning: the was born in 1718, and died in 17()8. 
 
 Testament Politique du Cardinal Garrick, as well as Gibbon, fre- 
 
 de Richelieu, the genuineni as of quented her salon, 
 whicli lie maintained witli success.
 
 MADAME BONTEMPS. 205 
 
 prose : at our first interview we felt a sympathy which 
 banished all reserve, and opened our bosoms to each 
 other. In every light, in every attitude, Madame B. 
 was a sensible and amiable Companion, an author careless 
 of litterary honours, a devotee untainted with Eeligious 
 gall. She managed a small income with elegant economy : 
 ]ier apartment on the Quai des Theatins commanded the 
 river, the bridges, and the Louvre ; her familiar suppers 
 were adorned with freedom and taste ; and I attended 
 her in my carriage to the houses of her acquaintance, 
 to the sermons of the most popular preachers, and in 
 pleasant excursions to St. Denys, St. Germain, and 
 Versailles. In the middle season of life, her beauty 
 was still an object of desire : the Marquis de Mirabeau, 
 a celebrated name, was neither her first nor her last 
 lover ; but if her heart was tender, if her passions were 
 warm, a veil of decency was cast over her frailties.] 
 Fourteen weeks insensibly stole away : but had I been 
 rich and independent, 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 Besanpon, 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 annual circle was almost 
 revolved before my departure from Lausanne in the ensuing 
 spring. An absence of five years had not made much
 
 206 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoiu B. 
 
 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 Pavilliard shed tears of joy as he embraced 
 a pupil j^with whose success his vanity as well as friend- 
 ship might be delighted *]. To my old list I added some 
 new acquaintance [^who in my former residence had not 
 been on the spot, or in my way], and among the strangers 
 I shall distinguish Prince Lewis of Wirtemberg,t the 
 brother of the reigning Duke, at whose country-house 
 near Lausanne I frequently dined. A wandering meteor, 
 and at length a falling star, his light and ambitious 
 spirit had successively dropt from the firmament of 
 Prussia, of France, and of Austria ; and his faults, 
 which he styled his misfortunes, had driven him into 
 philosophic exile in the Pays de Vaud. He could now 
 moralize on the vanity of the World, the equality of 
 mankind, 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 interest- 
 ing anecdotes. His first enthusiasm was that of charity 
 and agriculture ; but the Sage gradually lapsed in the 
 Saint, and Prince Lewis of Wirtemberg is now buried in 
 an hermitage near Mayence, in the last stage of mystic 
 devotion. By some ecclesiastical quarrel Voltaire had 
 
 * Lord Sheffield's edition, "whose himself in the Seven Years' War. 
 
 literary merit he might fairly im- He succeeded to the duchy on the 
 
 pute to his own labour." death of his brotlier Charles in 
 
 t Lutlwig Eugene of Wnrtem- 171J8, and joined the coalition 
 
 burg (17l!l-17l)5) was a lieut.- against France in the following 
 
 general in tlie service of the year. 
 French king, and distinguished
 
 RETURN TO LAUSANNE. 207 
 
 been provoked to withdraw liimself from Lausanne : 
 but the theatre which he had founded, the Actors 
 whom he had formed, survived the loss of their master ; 
 and recent from Paris, I assisted with pleasure at 
 the rejjresentation 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 innocent freedom of Swiss manners. 
 Mj favourite society had assumed, from the age of its 
 members, the proud denomination of the spring (la sooiete 
 dto prmtems). It consisted of fifteen or twenty young 
 unmarried Ladies, of genteel though not of the very first 
 families ; the eldest perhaps about twenty ; all agreable, 
 several handsome, and two or three of exquisite beauty. 
 At each other's houses they assembled almost every day : 
 without the controul 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 
 gayety they respected themselves, and were respected 
 by the men : the invisible lino 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. After 
 tasting the luxury of England and Paris, I could not have 
 returned with patience to the table and table-cloth of 
 Madame Pavilliard, nor was her husband offended that I 
 now entered myself as a liensionaire, or boarder, in the more 
 elegant house of Mr. de Mesery, which may be entitled 
 to a short remembrance, as it has stood above twenty 
 years, perhaps without a paralel in Europe. The house
 
 208 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 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 
 numerous ; we had the liberty of inviting any guests at a 
 stated price ; and in the summer the scene was occasion- 
 ally transferred to a pleasant Villa about a league from 
 Lausanne. The characters of the 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, I had almost said 
 & handsome, woman : she was alike qualified 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 respect, none 
 <30uld 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 
 chearfulness 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 fthe exercise of a mean 
 trade] he appeared like a nobleman who spent his fortune 
 and entertained his friends. In this agreable family I 
 resided near eleven months (May 1763 — April 1764) ; 
 ^but the habits of the militia and the example of my 
 ■countrymen betrayed me into some riotous acts of intem- 
 perance, and before my departure I had deservedly for- 
 feited the public opinion which had been acquired by the 
 virtues of my better days.] Yet in this second visit to 
 Lausanne, among a crowd of my English companions, I 
 knew and esteemed IMr.Holroyd |[late Captain in the Koyal
 
 MEDITATES JOURNEY TO ITALY. 209 
 
 Forresters], and our mutual attachment 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 benevolent heart, and 
 directed by a strong understanding. 
 
 If my studies at Paris had been confined to the study 
 of the World, three or four months would not have been 
 unprofitably spent. My visits, however superficial, to the 
 cabinet of medals and the public libraries opened a new 
 field of enquiry ; and the view of so many Manuscripts 
 of different ages and characters induced me to consult 
 the two great Benedictine Works, the Biplomatica of 
 Mabillon, and the Palwographia of Montfaucon. I 
 studied the theory without attaining the practise of the 
 art; nor should I complain of the intricacy of Greek 
 abbreviations and Gothic alphabets, since every day, in a 
 familiar language, I am at a loss to decypher the Hiero- 
 glyphics of a female note. In a tranquil scene, which 
 revived the memory of my first studies, idleness would 
 have been less pardonable : the public libraries of Lau- 
 sanne and Geneva liberally supplied me with books, and 
 if many hours were lost in dissipation, many more were 
 employed in litterary labour. In the country, Horace 
 and Virgil, Juvenal and Ovid, were my assiduous com- 
 panions; but in town I formed and executed a plan of 
 study for the use of my Transalpine expedition : the 
 topography of old Eome, the ancient Geography of 
 Italy, and the science of medals. 1. I diligently read, 
 almost always with my pen in my hand, the elaborate 
 treatises of Nardini, Donatus, etc., which fill the 
 
 p
 
 210 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir B. 
 
 fourth Volume of the Eoman Antiquities of Groevius. 
 2. I next undertook and finished the Italia Antiqiia 
 of Chiverius, a learned native of Prussia, who had 
 measured, on foot, every spot, and has compiled and 
 digested every passage of the ancient writers. These 
 passages in Greek or Latin I jDerused in the text of 
 Cluverius, in two folio Volumes; but I separately read 
 the descriptions of Italy by Strabo, Pliny, and Pom- 
 ponius Mela, the Catalogues of the Epic poets, the Itine- 
 raries of Wesseling's Antoninus, and the coasting 
 Voyage of Kutilius Numatianus ; and I studied two 
 kindred subjects in the Mesures Itineraires of d'Anville 
 and the copious work of Bergier, Histoire des grands 
 Chemins de VEmpire Bomain. From these materials I 
 formed a table of roads and distances reduced to our 
 English measure ; filled a folio commonplace-book with 
 my collections and remarks on the Geography of Italy, 
 and inserted in my journal many long and learned notes 
 on the Insulse and populousness of Eome, the Social War, 
 the passage of the Alps by Hannibal, etc. 3. After 
 glancing my eye over Addison's agreable Dialogues, 
 I more seriously read the great work of Ezechiel 
 Spanheim, de pr^estantia at usu Numismatum, and 
 applied with him the medals of the Kings and Emperors, 
 the families and colonies, to the illustration of ancient 
 history. And thus was I armed for my Italian journey.
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS 
 OF EDWARD GIBBON * 
 
 £1 WAS born the twenty-seventh of April, O.S. (the eighth 
 of May, N.S.), in the year one thousand seven hundred 
 and thirty-seven, the first child of the marriage of 
 Edward Gibbon, Esq^'", and of Judith Porten, his first 
 wife. The place of my nativity is Putney, in the 
 county of Surry, a pleasant village on the banks of 
 the Thames, about four miles from London. My lot 
 in this World might have been that of a savage, a slave, 
 or a peasant; and I must applaud the felicity of my 
 fate, which has cast my birth in an age of science 
 and Philosophy, in a free and civilized country, in a 
 family of honourable rank, and decently endowed with 
 the gifts of fortune. 
 
 Of this family, the primitive seat was in the county 
 of Kent. It is proved by authentic records that, as early 
 as the year 1326, the Gibbons were possessed of lands 
 in the parish of Eolvenden, and it should seem that 
 their ancient patrimony, without much encrease or dimi- 
 nution, is still in the hands of the elder branch. They 
 are distinguished by the title of Esquire, at a time when 
 
 * Memoir C (written about 1789); let the farm of Buriton, and re- 
 from his birth till 1772, when, two moved to London, 
 years after his lather's death, lie
 
 212 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 it was less promiscuously bestowed; and I continue to 
 bear the armorial coat, the ancient symbol of their 
 gentility: "A Lyon, rampant, gardant, between three 
 scallop-shells, Argent on a field Azure." The use of 
 these arms in the reign of Queen Elizabeth is attested 
 by the whimsical revenge of Edmond Gibbon, Esq''". 
 Instead of the three scallop-shells, he substituted, during 
 his own life, three Ogresses ; and these female monsters 
 denoted his three kinswomen, against whom he had 
 maintained a lawsuit for the patronage of the free 
 school of Benenden, a foundation of their common 
 ancestors. In the beginning of the seventeenth century, 
 a younger branch of the Gibbons, from which I descend, 
 migrated from the country to the city, from a rural 
 to a commercial life ; nor am I ashamed of their 
 mercantile profession, which has long since been ennobled 
 by the example of our most ancient gentry and the 
 good sense of the English nation. It would be as easy 
 as it might be tedious to recaj)itulate our various inter- 
 marriages, both in Kent and in London, with the most 
 respectable families — the Hextalls, the Ellenbrigs, the 
 Calverleys, the Philips of Tenterden, the Berkleys of 
 Beauston, the Whetnalls of East Peckham and of 
 Cheshire, the Edgars of Suffolk, and the Cromers 
 of Surry, whose progenitor, William Cromer (in the 
 years 1413 and 1424), was twice Lord Mayor of the 
 City of London. By the females I draw my pedigree 
 from the Lord Say and Scale, who, under the reign 
 of Henry the sixth, was Lord High Treasurer of 
 England. That IMinister fell a victim to the blind 
 rage of Jack Cade and his Kentish insurgents ; and if 
 Shakespeare be a faithful historian, a man ;of letters
 
 JOPIN GIBBON THE HERALD. 213 
 
 may be proud of his descent from the patron and martyr 
 of learning. But in the male line I can discover only 
 two persons of my name, who have left any memorial 
 of themselves more conspicuous than a gravestone in 
 a parish church, i. In the year 1340, John Gibbon 
 was Marmorarius, or Architect (the office of an esquire 
 in the service of Edward the Third). He built Queens- 
 borough castle, an important fortress for the defence 
 of the Kingdom; and the Koyal grant of the toll of 
 the passage between Sandwich and Stonar, in the Isle 
 of Thanet, is not the reward of a vulgar Mechanick. 
 ii. Another John Gibbon, the brother, as it should 
 appear, of my great-grandfather Matthew, has exhibited 
 the proofs of his lively wit and extensive reading, which 
 are not, indeed, without some alloy of prejudice, enthu- 
 siasm, and vanity ; since he considered Heraldry as the 
 first of arts, and himself as the first of Heralds. He 
 was born in the year 1629, and died in a very advanced 
 age, after exercising near fifty years the office of Blue- 
 mantle Poursuivant at arms in the Heralds' College. In 
 his youth he had been a soldier and a traveller; at a 
 war-dance of the Indians of Virginia he recognized the 
 colours and symbols of his art, which were emblazoned 
 on their naked bodies, and the reader will smile at his 
 conclusion " that Heraldry is ingrafted naturally into the 
 sense of human race." In the year 1682 he published 
 at London his lutrodudio ad Latinam Blazoniam, in 
 12", an English text interspersed with Latin sentences 
 and verses of his own composition ; and in this small but 
 elaborate treatise he claims the invention of expressing 
 the terms of Heraldry in a classical idiom. But this 
 domestic record, which illustrates the antiquity of his
 
 214 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 name and blood, was lost in his own family till, about 
 three years ago, a singular chance transmitted a copy 
 of his work from Wolfenbuttel in Germany to Lausanne 
 in Switzerland. The science of hereditary distinctions 
 is favourable to Monarchy, and Blue-mantle, like the 
 rest of his kindred, was a zealous Tory both in Church 
 and State. Many of his letters are still preserved in the 
 college: nor will it be thouo:ht sin2:ular that the same 
 mind should be addicted to the congenial studies of 
 Heraldry and Astrology. 
 
 My grandfather, Edward Gibbon, was of some note 
 in the commercial and even the political World. In the 
 four last years of Queen Anne (1710-1714) he exercised 
 the office of one of the Commissioners of the Customs ; 
 the Ministers often consulted him on subjects of trade 
 and finances, which he understood, according to the 
 testimony of Lord Bolingbroke, as deeply as any man 
 in England. Before he was chosen a director of the 
 South Sea Company (in 1716), he had acquired a fortune 
 of sixty thousand pounds ; but, in the calamitous year 
 twenty, he suffered with his brethren by an arbitrary 
 bill of pains and penalties, against which they were not 
 allowed to be heard by their council. Of the merits 
 and mischiefs of the South Sea Sclieme, I am neither 
 a competent nor a disinterested judge ; but if the public 
 ruin was contrived by the directors, I fear that my 
 grandfather's abilities will not leave him the Apology 
 of ignorance or error. Whatever might be his guilt, it 
 could neither be proved by evidence nor punished by 
 law; the proceedings of the house of commons were 
 stained with personal and party malice, and few will be 
 found, in these days of moderation, to applaud an act
 
 THE "SOUTH SEA" DISASTER. 215 
 
 of parliamentary tyranny which could not be excused 
 by the defence of the national safety. The directors 
 were compelled to deliver on oath the value of their 
 respective estates, and the poor allowances which were 
 left for their support were determined, not by a judicial 
 enquiry, but by hasty and passionate votes on the 
 character and conduct of each individual. Some part 
 of my grandfather's fortune was legally and, perhaps, 
 honestly secured by prsevious settlements and convey- 
 ances : he acknowledged the ample sum of one hundred 
 and six thousand five hundred and forty-three pounds 
 five shillings and sixpence ; and when the question was 
 put whether fifteen or ten thousand pounds should be 
 assigned to Mr. Gibbon, it was carried, without a division, 
 for the smaller allowance. His conscience had sullenly 
 submitted to the new oaths of allegiance ; but the 
 avowal of Tory and the suspicion of Jacobite principles 
 exposed him to the resentment of a Whig majority. 
 They could not, however, strip him of his credit and 
 experience ; he rose with fresh vigour from his fall, and 
 the wealth of which he died possessed could not be 
 inferior to the property of which he had been so unjustly 
 despoiled. Besides his landed estates in Buckingham- 
 shire and Hampshire, besides large sums either employed 
 in trade or vested in the funds, he had purchased a 
 spacious house and gardens at Putney, in Surrey, where 
 he lived with decent hospitality and a respectable cha- 
 racter. A stern, sensible countenance is impressed on 
 his portraits : as the wisest, the richest, or the oldest, 
 he became the oracle of his neighbours; and while he 
 ruled his family with a rod of iron, he was approached 
 with awe by those who might have smiled at his frowns.
 
 216 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 His wife, my grandmother, was of the name of Acton, 
 an ancient and honourable name in Shropshire : his 
 sister married Sir Whitmore Acton, the head of the 
 family, and father of Sir Richard, the present Baronet. 
 A younger branch has settled abroad, and it is with 
 pleasure that I acknowledge for my cousin the Chevalier 
 or General Acton, the favourite Minister of the King 
 of the two Sicilies. 
 
 My grandfather died about Christmas, 1736, and his 
 last will enriched, at the expence of his only son, his 
 two daughters, Catherine and Hester. The former 
 married Captain Edward Elliston, in the service of the 
 East India Company ; and Catherine, their only daughter, 
 is now Lady Eliot. Mrs. Hester Gibbon, who has pre- 
 ferred a life of celibacy and devotion, still inhabits, at 
 the age of eighty -five, a small hermitage in Northampton- 
 shire. Her spiritual guide and faithful companion was 
 Mr. William Law, a Nonjuror, a Wit, and a Saint, who 
 seems to have believed all that he professed, and to 
 have practised all that he enjoy ned. His controversial 
 tracts, however lively or acute, are buried with those 
 of his antagonists; but his invective against the Stage 
 is sometimes quoted for the extravagance of his zeal, 
 and his Serious Call is a powerful and popular book 
 of devotion. Under the names of Flavia and IMiranda 
 he has described my two aunts, the Heathen and the 
 Christian sister. 
 
 My father, Edward Gibbon, born in the year 1707, 
 was introduced into the World with the advantage of 
 Academical institution, foreign travel, and a seat in Parlia- 
 ment ; but had he been confined, like his ancestors, to a 
 mercantile counter, his life might have been happier, and
 
 EDWARD GIBBON THE ELDER. 217 
 
 my situation would be more opulent. Under the tuition 
 of Mr. William Law, he was removed from Westminster 
 School to Emanuel College at Cambridge, and his educa- 
 tion was finished by a tour to Paris and the provinces of 
 France. On his return home he was chosen to serve in 
 Parliament for the borough of Petersfield (in 1734), and 
 at the next general election (in 1741) he stood a warm 
 and successful contest for the town of Southampton. In 
 the great opposition to Sir Kobert Walpole, he appeared 
 a strenuous though a silent patriot. With the Tories he 
 gave many a vote, with them he drank many a bottle ; 
 and the interest of his party engaged him to assume for 
 a while an Alderman's gown in the city of London. After 
 his father's death he moved with ease and spirit in the 
 polite circles of the metropolis; in the old club at 
 White's he had the advantage of losing his money in the 
 best company, and the expence of his house and equipage 
 was regulated by the law of fashion rather than by that 
 of ceconomy. His early connection with my mother was 
 formed by the intercourse of the neighbouring families : 
 friendship was kindled into love, and love was justified 
 by esteem. 
 
 " Notitiam primosque gradus vicinia fecit : 
 Tempore crevit amor ; tedse quoque jure coissent, 
 Sed vetuere patres : quod non potuere vetare 
 Ex aequo captis ardebant mentibns ambo." 
 
 Such is the beginning of a love tale at Babylon or at 
 Putney ; but in the case of my parents the resistance was 
 not equal on both sides, and Mr. James Porten, a merchant 
 of slender fortune and sinking credit, would have gladly 
 accepted an alliance which could be displeasing only to 
 his more wealthy and ambitious neighbour. The harsh
 
 218 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 commands of my grandfather were eluded by tlie secret 
 correspondence and stolen interviews of the lovers, and 
 he at length pronounced a reluctant and ungracious 
 consent to their union. His aversion was subdued by 
 the soft dexterity of my mother ; and, had he lived to 
 embrace her first child, it is probable that a will which 
 had been signed in anger would have been cancelled by 
 affection. Her beauty was adorned with the solid and 
 pleasing accomplishments of the mind ; and my father's 
 constancy was rewarded by ten years of domestic felicity. 
 It could be interrupted only by her untimely death, after 
 she had given him six sons and one daughter, all of whom, 
 except myself, died in their infancy. I was too young to 
 know the value or to feel the loss of my mother ; but the 
 image of my father's grief is deeply imprinted in my 
 memory, and his long mourning has been celebrated by 
 Mr. Mallet in an elegant poem on the anniversary of his 
 own nuptials — 
 
 " But first a pensive love forlorn, 
 Who tliree long weeping years lias borne 
 His torch revers'd, and all around, 
 Where once it fiam'd with c^-press bound, 
 Sent off", to call a neighbouring friend, 
 On whom the mf>urnful train attend : 
 And bid him, this one day at least, 
 For such a pair, at such a feast, 
 Strip off the sable veil, and wear 
 His once gay look and happier air." 
 
 But the sorrowful widower soon withdrew from the gay 
 and busy scenes of the World, and his prudent retreat 
 from London and Putney to his farm at Buriton, in 
 Hampshire, was ennobled by the pious motive of conjugal 
 affliction. 
 
 According to the calculations of Monsieur de Buffon,
 
 GIBBON'S EARLY MALADIES. 219 
 
 half the number of new-born children are cut off before 
 they have compleated their eighth year ; and the chances 
 that I shoukl not live to compose this narrative were, at 
 the time of my birth, in the proportion of three to one. 
 Such may be the general probabilities of human life ; 
 but the ordinary dangers of childhood were multiplied 
 far beyond this measure by my personal infirmities. So 
 little hope did my parents entertain, that, after bestowing 
 at my baptism the favourite appellation of Edward, they 
 provided a substitute, in case of my departure, by succes- 
 sively joyning the same addition to the Christian names 
 of my younger brothers. A numerous acquaintance and 
 encreasing family engrossed the time, and divided the 
 attention of Mrs. Gibbon : her heart was solely devoted 
 to her husband ; and my infancy might have been fatally 
 neglected, had I not found a second mother in her maiden 
 sister, Mrs. Catherine Porten, at whose name I feel a tear 
 of gratitude trickling down my cheek. My poor aunt 
 has often told me, with tears in her eyes, how nearly I 
 was starved by a nurse who had lost her milk, and how 
 long she trembled lest my crazy frame, which is now of 
 the common shape, should be for ever crooked and de- 
 formed. From one dangerous malady, the small-pox, I 
 was indeed rescued by the practise of inoculation, which 
 had been lately introduced into England, and was still 
 opposed by Theological, medical, and even political preju- 
 dice. But it is only against the small-pox that a pre- 
 servative has been found ; and I could recapitulate from 
 memory or hearsay almost every disease which afflicted 
 my tender years — feavers and lethargies, a fistula in the 
 eye, a tendency to a consumptive and to a dropsical habit, 
 a contraction of the nerves, with a variety of nameless
 
 220 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 disorders. And, as if the plagues of nature were not 
 sufficient without the concurrence of accident, I was once 
 bit by a dog most vehemently suspected of madness. 
 From Sloane and Mead to Ward and the Chevalier Taylor, 
 every practitioner, both regular and empiric, was alter- 
 nately summoned ; the fees of Doctors were swelled by 
 the bills of Apothecaries and Surgeons ; there was a time 
 when I swallowed almost as much physic as food, and my 
 body is still marked with the scars of bleedings, issues, 
 and caustics. From these ills and from these remedies 
 I have wonderfully escaped. Instead of growing with 
 my growth and strengthening with my strength, my 
 complaints, as I approached the age of puberty, have 
 insensibly vanished. I have never known the insolence 
 of active and vigorous health ; but my constitution has 
 gradually ripened to a sound and temperate maturity, 
 and since the age of fifteen I have seldom required the 
 serious advice of a physician. Of my bodily state thus 
 much may suffice. Such objects can only be interesting 
 to the reader as far as they have influenced the choice 
 or the studies of a litterary life ; nor shall I imitate 
 the example of Montague, who in his Essays, and more 
 especially in his travels, has filled whole pages with the 
 changes of disease and the operations of medecine. 
 
 In the first period of life the use of speech and the 
 rudiments of reading and writing soon distinguished me 
 from a brute and a savage. About the seventh year of 
 my age (1744) I was placed under tlie care of a domestic 
 tutor, Mr. John Kirkby, a learned and pious Nonjuror. 
 He is the author of an English grammar, which he grate- 
 fully dedicated to my father (November, 1745) ; and 
 of the life of Automathes (London, 1745), a moral
 
 SCHOOL DAYS. 221 
 
 romance, which blends the Arabian fable of a self-taught 
 philosopher with the English adventures of Robinson 
 Crusoe. Mr. Kirkby appears to have been qualified for 
 the task of education, but his public refusal to name King 
 George in the prayers of the Church obliged my father 
 to dismiss him before I could imbibe either science or 
 prejudice from his lessons. In a lucid interval of health, 
 when I was eight years of age, I was removed from the 
 indulgence and luxury of a private family to the tumult, 
 the discipline, and the hardships of a school at Kingston 
 of about seventy boys. Under the rod of Dr. Woodson 
 I learned the rules of the Latin grammar ; and not many 
 years ago I was master of the dirty and dog's-eared copies 
 of Cornelius Nepos, Phaedrus, and Ovid's Epistles, which 
 I painfully construed and darkly understood. From 
 Kingston School I was recalled by frequent relapses of 
 illness, and finally by my mother's death (1747) : my 
 grandfather, Mr. James Porten, became a bankrupt ; and 
 his daughter, my aunt Catherine, scorning a life of 
 dependence, preferred the humble industry of keeping 
 a boarding-house in College Street, near Westminster 
 school. This singular union of private care and public 
 institution tempted my father, and I continued near two 
 years (from Christmas, 1748, to August, 1750) an effective 
 or nominal disciple of the great seminary of the English 
 Youth. Under the discipline of Dr. Nichols, or rather 
 of his inferior ushers, I was permitted to crawl as high as 
 the third form : but my progress was checked by various 
 and repeated malady ; and, as I was taken away in the 
 beginning of my fourteenth year, I could not be indebted 
 to Westminster School for the Classical learning, the 
 knowledge of the World, and the early friendships, which
 
 222 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 are celebrated as the peculiar merits of this mode of 
 education. During the two following years (1750-1752) 
 I was moved by my father from place to place, and I 
 spent many months at Bath and at Winchester for the 
 benefit of the waters or of medical advice ; the prosecution 
 of my studies was often interdicted, nor could I derive 
 much improvement from the rare and occasional lessons 
 of such teachers as could be procured on the spot. In 
 the months of February and March, 1751, I resided at 
 Esher, in Surrey, in the house of the Reverend Mr. Philip 
 Francis ; and] the translator of Horace might have taught 
 me to relish the Latin poets, had not my friends dis- 
 covered in a few weeks that he preferred the pleasures 
 of London to the instruction of his pupils. [At length, 
 as my puerile disorders appeared to abate, my father was 
 persuaded to place me, without sufficient preparation, at 
 Magdalen College, in the University of Oxford, where I 
 was matriculated as a Gentleman-Commoner on the third 
 of April, 1752, before I had compleated the fifteenth year 
 of my age. 
 
 The defects of my scholastic education have not 
 perhaps been perfectly supplied by the voluntary labours 
 of my riper years ; but, with the encrease of my strength 
 and stature, the faculties of the mind were gradually 
 expanded, and I soon discovered the spirit of enquiry 
 and the love of books to which I owe the happiness of 
 my life. This early taste was encouraged and cultivated 
 by my aunt, Mrs. Catherine Porten, who was endowed 
 with a sound understanding and a competent share of 
 English litterature. My long vacations from Kingston 
 and Westminster school were chiefly spent in her house. 
 She became the mother of my mind as well as of my
 
 DESULTORY READING. 223 
 
 health : all distance was banished between us ; we freely 
 conversed on the most familiar and abstruse topics, and 
 it was her delight and reward to applaud the shoots 
 of my childish fancy. The Arabian nights entertain- 
 ments, and the English translation of the Iliad and 
 the Odyssey, are the two first books of which I retain 
 a distinct and pleasing idea. My imagination was 
 enchanted with the perpetual mixture of supernatural 
 and human agents : the harmonious verses of Pope fixed 
 themselves in my memory ; and before I was ten years old 
 I disputed with my aunt about the story of the marvellous 
 lamp, and the characters of Achilles and Ulysses. Books 
 of fiction were my first and favourite amusement ; but 
 in the nine months (from March to December, 1748) 
 between my grandfather Porten's absconding and the 
 sale of his effects, his study-door was unlocked : I 
 glanced my eye over the shelves, and, as often as a title 
 or subject allured my curiosity, I presimied to open the 
 volume, without any just measure of the relative powers 
 of the writer and the reader. My judgement was not 
 sufficiently formed to estimate the value or to regret 
 the loss of the four succeeding years from my first 
 introduction to Westminster till my settlement in 
 Magdalen College. Instead of repining at my long and 
 frequent confinement to the chamber and the couch, I 
 secretly rejoyced in the infirmities which delivered me 
 from the exercises of the school and the society of my 
 equals. As often as I was exempt from pain and danger, 
 reading — free desultory reading — was the occupation and 
 comfort of my solitary hours ; and my father's acquaint- 
 ance, who visited the child, were astonished at finding 
 him surrounded with an heap of folios, of whose names
 
 224 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 thetj were ignorant, and on whose contents he could 
 pertinently descant. Without the discipline of a master 
 or the advice of a friend, the early bent of my mind was 
 directed to histories of all ages and nations, and to 
 Voyages and travels into all the countries of the globe. 
 The circulating libraries of London and Bath were 
 greedily ransacked ; and I devoured the translations 
 of the Greek and Latin Authors, from Littlebury's lame 
 Herodotus, and Spelman's valuable Xenophon, to 
 Gordon's pompous Tacitus, and a ragged Procopius 
 of the beginning of the last century. My curiosity was 
 stimulated by the remoteness of time and place ; and 
 while I had a superficial knowledge of the modern 
 transactions of Europe, I was familiarly conversant with 
 the Arabian Caliphs, the Khans of Tartary, the out- 
 lying Empires (as Sir William Temple styles them) of 
 China and Peru, and the dark and doubtful Dynasties 
 of Assyria and Egypt. Such vague multifarious reading 
 could neither teach me to think nor to act, and the 
 only principle which darted some rays of light into the 
 rude and undigested Chaos was the instinctive love and 
 accurate study of ancient Geography and Chronology. I 
 arrived at Oxford with a stock of Erudition that might have 
 puzzled a Doctor, and a degree of ignorance of which 
 a school-boy would have been ashamed. My first litterary 
 attempts were a new plan of Chronological tables, the 
 paralel lives of Aurelian and Selim, and a critical enquiry 
 into the age of Sesostris. 
 
 The stately buildings of Oxford, and especially of 
 Magdalen College, excite the admiration of a stranger ; 
 the apparent decencies of habit and order solicit his 
 reverence : and the cloysters, the walks, and the libraries
 
 LIFE AT MAGDALEN COLLEGE. 225 
 
 are appropriated to the use of a studious and con- 
 templative life. I was delighted with the novelty of 
 the scene ; my dress and rank of a gentleman-commoner, 
 a competent allowance, and a spacious apartment elated 
 my childish vanity with the idea of manly independence. 
 But I must blush for myself or for my teachers, when 
 I declare that, of all the years of my life, the fourteen 
 months which I spent at Oxford were most compleatly 
 lost for every purpose of improvement ; and the Uni- 
 versity will not be ambitious of a son who disclaims 
 all sense of filial piety and gratitude. I am willing 
 to make every reasonable abatement for my tender age, 
 insufficient preparation, and short residence. Yet I 
 must confess the presumptuous belief that neither my 
 temper nor my talents were averse to the lessons of 
 science ; that the discipline of well-regulated studies 
 might have inflamed the ardour and restrained the 
 wanderings of youth ; and that some share of reproach 
 will adhere to the Academical institution which could 
 damp every spark of industry in a curious and active 
 mind. A master of moral and political wisdom has 
 observed that " in the University of Oxford the greater 
 part of the public professors, lor these many years past, 
 have given up altogether even the pretence of teaching " 
 (Kiches of nations. Vol. ii. p. o4o) ; and this melancholy 
 truth, which sounds almost incredible in foreign Academies, 
 is not disproved by the rare and honourable exceptions 
 of Blackstone and Lowth. The silence of the professors 
 is imperfectly supplied by the College tutors who instruct, 
 or promise to instruct, their pupils in language and 
 science. My first tutor, Dr. Waldegrave, was one of the 
 best of the tribe ; we read, in two or three months, two
 
 226 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memois C. 
 
 or three comedies of Terence ; lie gave me every morning 
 an hour at his chambers ; but my absence was excused 
 on the slightest pretence, and I soon discovered that 
 my attendance and my apologies were equally super- 
 fluous. His successor, Dr. Winchester, never deserved 
 the annual stipend of twenty Guineas by a single word 
 of instruction, of enquiry, or of advice. I compliment 
 our English Fellows when I compare them to the Monks 
 of a Benedictine Abbey. Instead of animating the 
 under-graduates by the example of diligence, they 
 enjoyed in tranquil indolence the benefactions of the 
 founder, and their slumbers were seldom disturbed by 
 the labour of writing, of reading, or thinking. Their 
 discoui'se in the common room, to which I was sometimes 
 admitted, stagnated in the narrow circle of college 
 business and Tory politicks ; their deep and dull com- 
 potations left them no right to censure the warmer 
 intemperance of youth ; and their constitutional toasts 
 were not expressive of the most sincere loyalty to the 
 house of Hanover. I have heard that Latin declama- 
 tions were formerly pronounced by the Gentlemen-com- 
 moners in the hall ; but in my time the silk goMH and 
 velvet cap were sacred from all duty of exercise or 
 examination. Idleness and inexperience soon led me 
 into some disorders of late hours, bad company, and 
 improper expence : my debts might be secret, my 
 absence was notorious ; a tour into Buckinghamshire, 
 an excursion to Bath, four excursions to London, were 
 costly and dangerous follies ; and my childish years 
 might have justified a more than ordinary restraint. 
 Yet I eloped from Oxford, I returned ; I again eloped 
 in a few days ; as if I had been an independent stranger
 
 RELIGIOUS OPINIONS. 227 
 
 in an hired lodging, without once hearing 'the voice of 
 admonition or once feeling the hand of controul. Such 
 was my Academical life. I shall rejoyce to hear that 
 any reformation has been since introduced into the 
 University or the College. 
 
 In religious matters the University of Oxford united 
 the extremes of bigotry and indifference. As I had 
 not compleated, at the time of my matriculation, the 
 fifteenth year of my age, I was excused from the legal 
 obligation of subscribing the thirty-nine articles of the 
 Church of England ; but my Academical teachers were 
 as careless of spiritual as of litterary instruction, and 
 I groped my way to the chappel and the communion-table 
 by the dim light of my catechism. Religion had often 
 been the theme of my infant curiosity ; the shrewdness 
 of my questions and objections had sometimes puzzled 
 my pious aunt ; nor had the dull atmosphere of Oxford 
 <;ompleatly broken the elasticity of my mind. Some 
 Popish books unluckily fell into my hands : I was 
 bewildered in the maze of controversy, and my under- 
 standing was oppressed by their specious arguments, 
 till I believed that I believed in the stupendous mys- 
 teries and infallible authority of the Catholic Church. 
 As the University has suffered some reproach on my 
 account, truth and justice oblige me to declare that such 
 books were the sole instruments of my conversion, and 
 that I never saw any emissary of Rome within the 
 precincts of Oxford. But no sooner had I resolved to 
 save my soul at the expence of my fortune, than I 
 •eloped to London and addressed myself to Mr. Lewis 
 a Popish bookseller in Russel street, who introduced 
 me to a priest, perhaps a Jesuit, of his acquaintance.
 
 228 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [IMemoik C. 
 
 That zealous missionary exposed his life to the rigoiir 
 of our intolerant laws ; and on the eighth of June, 1753, 
 I solemnly, though privately, abjured at his feet the 
 errors of heresy. My father was neither a philosojAer 
 nor a bigot, but he deplored the loss of an only son; 
 and his good sense could not understand or excuse my 
 strange departure from the Religion of my C'Ountry. 
 The gates of Oxford were shut against my return ; no 
 place in England was thought safe and convenient ; 
 and by the advice of his friends, the Protestant city 
 of Lausanne in Switzerland was chosen for my exile 
 and education. This plan, which was immediately 
 executed, has been attended with the most salutary 
 effects ; but I have since reflected with surprize, that 
 the neighbouring priests of France and Savoy, who must 
 have corresponded with their English brethren, should 
 have made no attempts, 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. 
 My pride was perhaps offended by their neglect ; the 
 Calvinist Minister in whose house I lived acquired my 
 confidence and softened my prejudices ; the fervour of 
 enthusiasm subsided ; and my growing reason was 
 gradually invigorated by age, study, and liberal con- 
 versation. After an obstinate dispute and a serious 
 enquiry, I sincerely confessed that the doctrine and 
 worship of the Protestants are most agreable to sense 
 and scripture, and my father rejoyced to hear that on 
 Christmas Day, 1754, I received the sacrament in the 
 Cathedral of l^ausanne. In either step, of my error and 
 my repentance, I honestly obeyed the dictates of con- 
 science, and should I be taxed with levity and rashness,
 
 LIFE AT LAUSANNE. 229 
 
 I can plead the respectable examples of Chillingworth 
 and Bayle. At a riper age, their acute understandings 
 were deceived by the same arguments, and their spirit, 
 like my own, emerged from the servitude of superstition. 
 After passing the sea for the first time between Dover 
 and Calais, I followed the direct road through Picardy, 
 Champagne, and Franchecomte, and arrived, on the 30 th 
 of June, 1753, at Lausanne, where my companion, Mr. 
 Frey, delivered his charge into the house and the hands 
 of Mr. Pavillard, a Calvinist minister, to whose tuition I 
 was entrusted. I beheld with surprize and aversion the 
 first aspect of a place in which I have spent the five 
 most interesting years of my youth, which I afterwards 
 freely revisited, and which I have finally chosen as the 
 most grateful retreat for the decline of life. Ignorant 
 of the language and manners, I felt myself suddenly 
 deprived of the use of hearing and speech, and con- 
 demned to a solitary and hopeless exile in a new AVorld. 
 My father's indignation had dismissed my servant, stinted 
 my expence, and reduced me from the liberty of a man 
 to the dependance of a schoolboy. My gay apartments 
 in Magdalen College were exchanged for a small ill- 
 fiu'nished room in the most dreary street of an unhand- 
 some town; and, on the approach of winter, the dull 
 invisible heat of a stove succeeded to the chearful blaze 
 of a companionable lire. Our coarse and scanty meals, 
 which were served at nocui and at seven in the evening, 
 could neither provoke nor satisfy the appetite ; and more 
 than one sense was offended by the appearance of the 
 table, as it was covered eight successive days with 
 the same liunen. The vulgar and sordid ceconomy of the 
 house in which I lodged and boarded may be chiefly
 
 230 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 ascribed to the temper of Madame Pavillard, the 
 minister's wife : I now can speak of her without resent- 
 ment ; but, in sober truth, she was ugly, dirty, proud, 
 ill-natured, and covetous. Her husband, Mr. Pavillard, 
 deserves a far different character ; he is entitled to my 
 gratitude ; but gratitude must not persuade me that the 
 true author of my education was himself eminent for 
 Genius or learning. Even the real value of his abilities 
 Avas under-rated in the public opinion ; the soft credulity 
 of his virtue exposed him to frequent imposition, and 
 the want of eloquence and memory in the pulpit dis- 
 qualified him for the most popular duty of his office. 
 But he was endowed with a clear head and a warm heart ; 
 his innate benevolence had asswaged the proud prejudice 
 of a Churchman, and his opinions were rational because 
 his temper was moderate. In the course of his Academical 
 studies he had acquired a just, though superficial know- 
 ledge; by long practise he was skilled in the arts of 
 teaching ; and he laboured with assiduous patience to 
 discern the character, to gain the confidence, and to open 
 the mind of his English disciple. As soon as we began 
 to understand each other, he tempted me from the blind 
 and undistinguishing love of reading into a path of 
 useful instruction. I consented with pleasure that a 
 portion of the morning hours should be consecrated to 
 the perusal of the French and Latin Classics, to the 
 principles of logic, and to a series of the modern history 
 and geography of Europe ; and at each step I felt myself 
 invigorated by the practise and success of methodical 
 application. 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
 
 STUDIES WITH M. PAVILLARD. 231 
 
 into my own hands. His favourable report of my 
 behaviour and progress gradually obtained some latitude 
 of action and expence, and he wished to alleviate the 
 hardships of my lodging and entertainment. These 
 hardships were made tolerable by custom, and I was 
 insensibly reconciled to the place, to the people, and to 
 myself. The lively and flexible character of youth forgets 
 the past, enjoys the present, and anticipates the future. 
 
 Every man who rises above the common level has 
 received two educations : the first from his teachers ; the 
 second, more personal and important, from himself. He 
 will not, like the fanatics of the last age, define the 
 moment of grace ; but he cannot forget the aera 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 left me to the impulse of my Genius ; and 
 the hours of lecture were lost in the voluntary labours of 
 the morning, and often of the whole day. The desire 
 of prolonging my time gradually confirmed the 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 health that my temperate ardour has never been 
 seduced to trespass on the hours of the night. During 
 the three last years of my residence at Lausanne, from the 
 spring of 1755 to the spring of 1758, I may assume the 
 merit of spontaneous and solid industry ; the three inte- 
 resting languages, the French, the Latin, and the Greek, 
 were the first objects of my application, and I always asso- 
 ciated the studies of Philosophy with those of litterature. 
 
 In the Pays de Yaud, of which Lausanne is the
 
 232 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiii C. 
 
 principal town, the French language is used with less 
 corruption than in many of the provinces of France. In 
 Pavillard's family I was compelled to listen, to ask, and 
 to converse, and in a few months I was astonished at my 
 rapid success. My pronunciation was formed by the 
 repetition of the same sounds ; my vocabulary was 
 multiplied ; a free and elegant use of the idiom was 
 (jbtained by practise ; propriety and correctness were 
 acquired by labour ; and before I left Switzerland, 
 French, in which I naturally thought, was more familiar 
 than English to my ear, my tongue, and my pen. A 
 dead language can only be studied in the Closet ; but in 
 my French and Latin versions the two dialects were 
 made subservient to each other by a method which I 
 Would strenuously recommend to the imitation of every 
 student. In some Classic of aj)proved purity — in Tully or 
 Vertot, for instance — I chose some pages which I trans- 
 lated into the ojjposite language. My translation I 
 threw aside till the words and sentences were obliterated 
 from my memory. I then returned it into the primitive 
 idiom, critically compared the defects of my copy with 
 the native graces of the original, and persevered in this 
 useful labour till, after filling several volumes with these 
 double versions, I had attained the theory and practise 
 of French and Latin composition. The perusal of the 
 Roman Classics was at once my exercise and reward. 
 Dr. Middleton's history, which I then esteemed above its 
 value, directed me to the writings of Cicero, and I read 
 with application and pleasure all his Epistles, all his 
 orations, and his most valuable treatises of Rhetoric 
 and Philosophy. I tasted the beauties of language, I 
 breathed the spirit of freedom, and I imbibed from his
 
 CLASSICAL STUDIES, 233 
 
 precepts and examples the public and private sense of a 
 man. After finishing the works of TuUy, a library of 
 eloquence and reason, I entered on the general study 
 of the Latin Classics, under the four divisions of (1) 
 Historians, (2) Poets, (3) Orators, and (4) Philosophers, 
 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 review, however rapid, either hasty or 
 .superficial. I indulged myself in a second or even a third 
 perusal of the best authors ; I never suffered a difficult 
 •or corrupt passage to escape me till I had examined it 
 in every light, with my own glasses and those of the most 
 apjjroved commentators : in the ardour of my enquiries 
 I embraced a large scope of critical and historical 
 -erudition, and my various abstracts, observations, and 
 Essays were diligently composed in the French language. 
 From I (sic) knowledge of the Latin Imitations, I aspired 
 to the Greek Originals, and in the nineteenth year of my 
 Age I resolved to supply the defect of my first education. 
 The lessons of Pavillard again contributed to smooth the 
 entrance of the way, and he led me through the Alphabet, 
 the Grammar, and the Gospel, to the utmost limits of his 
 own progress. As soon as my tutor left me to myself, I 
 presumed to open the Iliad, which I already knew in an 
 English dress, and afterwards interpreted by my own 
 labour a large portion of Xenophon and Herodotus. My 
 a,rdour, destitute of aid and emulation, was insensibly 
 cooled; but at Lausanne I had laid a solid foundation, 
 which enabled me in a more propitious season to prosecute 
 the study of Grecian litteratm-e.
 
 234 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 The first text of my philosophical studies, the book 
 which taught me the use and conduct of my understand- 
 ing, was the Logic of Mr. de Crousaz, a native and 
 Professor of Lausanne, who died about five years before 
 my arrival. His reputation is already faded ; but his 
 moderate and methodical writings were useful in their 
 day to form the reason, the taste, and even the style of 
 his countrymen ; and he rescued the clergy of the Pays 
 de Vaud from the heavy and intolerant yoke of the 
 theology of Calvin. After I had transfused into my own 
 mind the principles of Crousaz, as soon as I possessed 
 some dexterity in the use of the weapons of arguments, I 
 ventured to engage with his adversary Bayle, and his 
 master Locke, the former of whom may be applied as a 
 spur, and the latter as a bridle to the curiosity of a young 
 philosopher. I carefully meditated the Essay on the 
 Himian Understanding, and I freely revolved the most 
 interesting articles of the Critical dictionary. The law 
 of Nature and Nations was taught with some reputation 
 by Professor Vicat ; but instead of following his public 
 or private course, I preferred the solitary lessons of Ms 
 masters, and my own reason. Without being disgusted 
 by the pedantry of Grotius or the prolixity of Puffendorf, 
 I investigated in their systems the rights of a man, the 
 duties of a Citizen, the Theory of justice, and the laws of 
 peace and war, which have had some influence on the 
 modern practise of Europe. i\Iy fatigues were alleviated 
 by the good sense and learning of their commentator 
 Barbeyrac ; but my delight was in the frequent enjoy- 
 ment of the Esprit des loix, an immortal work which 
 was then in the freshness of fame, and which has power- 
 fully agitated the Genius of the Age. In compliance
 
 LITEEARY STUDIES. 235 
 
 with my father's desire, some time was devoted to the 
 Mathematics ; during two successive winters (1757 and 
 1758) I devoured without much appetite the Elements of 
 Algebra and Geometry, as far as the conic sections of the 
 Marquis de I'Hopital, and my Professor, Mr. de Traytorrens, 
 was satisfied with my diligence and improvement. From 
 these serious and scientific pursuits I derived a maturity 
 of judgement, a j)hilosophic spirit, of more value than the 
 sciences themselves ; and my lighter and more desultory 
 reading was now conducted with taste and discretion. I 
 could extract and digest the nutritive particles of every 
 species of litterary food : a novel has often suggested a 
 train of moral or metaphysical thinking ; and it may not 
 be impertinent to recollect that Pascal and Gianone first 
 accustomed me to the use of irony and criticism on sub- 
 jects of Ecclesiastical gravity. A copious choice of facts 
 and opinions was arranged, according to the precept and 
 method of Mr. Locke, in a folio commonplace-book ; the 
 action of the pen will doubtless leave a mark on the 
 memory as well as on the paper, but I much question 
 whether the encrease of knowledge affords a compensation 
 for the waste of time. The languid state of learning in 
 the Academy and town of Lausanne compelled me to seek 
 at a distance more instructive conversation. I solicited 
 and maintained a correspondence of Classic litterature with 
 Messieurs Crevier, Breitinger, and Gesner, three cele- 
 brated professors of Paris, Zurich, and Gottingen. I had 
 formed a personal intimacy with the minister, Allamand 
 of Bex, a man of Genius, worthy of a greater theatre. 
 In our letters we debated the darkest and most important 
 questions of Metaphysics ; but as I was entangled by 
 prejudice, and he was restrained by prudence, I suspect
 
 236 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik C. 
 
 that he never shewed the true colours of his secret 
 scepticism. 
 
 In the exercises of the body, which have been reduced 
 to a polite art, I was less successful than in those of the 
 mind. A skillful fencing-master could never communi- 
 cate to my arm the dextrous management of a foil or 
 sword ; and once, in a boyish quarrel, my awkwardness was 
 punished by the loss of some drops of blood. My total 
 want of an ear and taste for music disqualified me for the 
 profession of a dancer: I attempted with indifferent 
 grace to walk a minuet, but I have never been able to 
 unravel the mazes of a country dance. The j\Ianage or 
 Eiding-house, then flourished under the care of Mr. de 
 Mesery, a Gentleman of Lausanne ; but he could not be 
 proud of such a disciple as myself, and after the fruitless 
 expence and labour of five months, I gladly withdrew 
 from his Equestrian school without an hope of being 
 ever promoted to the use of stirrups or spurs. This 
 unfitness for bodily exercise reconciled me, however, to a 
 sedentary life ; and many precious hours were employed 
 in my closet which at the same age are wasted on horse- 
 back by the strenuous idleness of my countrymen. 
 During an active period of five years, from sixteen t(> 
 twenty-one, I was generally confined to the precincts of 
 Lausanne, as much by my own choice as by my father's 
 command. A month's tour with Pavillard (September 21 — 
 October 20, 1755) was a practical lecture on the Geography 
 and governments of Switzerland. Without climbing the 
 mountains or exploring the Glaciers (which were not yet 
 famous or fashionable), we travelled slowly in a coach 
 through the principal towns, Neufchatel, Bienne, Soleurre, 
 Arau, Baden, Zurich, Basil, and Bern, and visited in
 
 LAUSANNE SOCIETY. 237 
 
 every place the persons and things best worthy of our 
 attention. At the rich Abbey of Einsidlen, the Swiss 
 Loretto, I viewed with the contempt of a protestant and 
 a philosopher the Idolatrous worship of our Lady of 
 the Hermits ; and a French journal of fifteen or sixteen 
 sheets might satisfy my father that neither my time nor 
 his allowance had been mispent. In the autumn, before 
 my return to England, I was permitted to spend a 
 pleasant and rational month (September, 1757) at Geneva. 
 3Iy application to books was serious and severe ; but 
 my temper was never that of a recluse student, and the 
 Swiss subjects of the Pays de Vaud are educated in the 
 manners as well as in the language of France. As soon 
 as I was able to converse with the natives, I began to find 
 some amusement and improvement in their company : 
 my awkward timidity was emboldened by degrees, and 
 I frequented for the first time assemblies of men and 
 women. In the eyes of a traveller the inhabitants of 
 Lausanne may appear nearly on a level ; but in their 
 private life a line of separation is drawn betA\een the 
 noble and the plebeian families, and the prejudice which 
 has been mollified by reason and riches then subsisted in 
 its ancient vigour. But every society was accessible to a 
 young Englishman, and from the humble kindred and 
 acquaintance of the Pavillards I was gradually introduced 
 into more elegant circles. My long residence and decent 
 behaviour naturalized me in the place : in the families of 
 the first rank I was received with kindness and indulgence : 
 my afternoons were filled by frequent and almost daily 
 engagements to numerous or select parties of cards or 
 conversation ; and my choice of good company was the 
 best preservative against the ignoble vices and follies of
 
 238 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 youth. Lausanne is not sufficiently wealthy or populous 
 to support a regular stage ; but my love of the French 
 Drama was gratified by a very singular event : a succes- 
 sion of Tragedies and comedies — Zayre, Alzire, I'Enfant 
 prodigue, Zulime, Iphigenie, etc. — was acted on a private 
 theatre by a company of Gentlemen and Ladies, and their 
 great leader, Voltaire himself, declaimed his own verses 
 with the enthusiasm of an author. From the smiles and 
 frowns of a King, the poet had escaped to a land of free- 
 dom, and his letters (Correspondance Generale, tom. 
 iv., V.) celebrate with lavish praise the climate, the 
 prospects, and the trouts of the lake, the politeness of 
 the people, the talents of his actors, and the taste of 
 his audience, which he prefers without hesitation to the 
 parterre of Paris. I was introduced, without being known, 
 to that extraordinary man, " Virgilium vidi tantum : " he 
 reigned two winters at Lausanne by the double influence 
 of his wit and fortune (in 1757 and 1758), and the Clergy 
 was scandalized by the visible progress of luxury and 
 Deism. 
 
 I sliould be ashamed if the warm season of youth had 
 passed away without any sense of friendship or love ; and 
 in the choice of their objects I may applaud the dis- 
 cernment of my head or heart. j\Ir. George Deyverdun, 
 'Of Lausanne, was a young Gentleman of high honour and 
 quick feelings, of an elegant taste and a liberal under- 
 standing : he became the companion of my studies and 
 pleasures ; every idea, every sentiment, was poured into 
 each other's bosom; and our schemes of ambition or 
 retirement always terminated in the prospect of our final 
 find inseparable union. The beauty of IMademoiselle 
 •Curchod, the daughter of a country clergyman, was
 
 PKOGRESS AND ATTAINMENTS. 239 
 
 adorned with science and virtue : she listened to the 
 tenderness which she had inspired ; but the romantic 
 hopes of youth and passion were crushed, on my return, 
 by the prejudice or prudence of an English parent.] 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 ; and my cure was accelerated by a faithful 
 report of the tranquillity and chearfulness of the Lady 
 herself, f Her equal behaviour under the tryals of indi- 
 gence and prosperity has displayed the firmness of her 
 character. A citizen of Geneva, a rich banker of Paris, 
 made himself happy by rewarding her merit ; the genius 
 of her husband has raised him to a perilous eminence ; 
 and Madame Necker now divides and alleviates the cares 
 of the first minister of the finances of France. 
 
 Whatsoever have been the fruits of my education, 
 they must be ascribed to the fortunate shipwreck which 
 cast me on the shores of the Leman lake. I have some- 
 times 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 
 or inglorious. 
 
 . . . 7iT0i Kal red KfV, 
 'Evdo/xaxttS or' iKeicrccp, 
 2,vyy6y(jj irap' karia 
 A/cA«jjs Ti/ia KaTi(pv\\opurj(Tf TroScor, 
 'El HT] ffrdiTts avTidveipa 
 Kvwaias d/xepae iruTpas. 
 
 {Olymp. xii.) 
 
 If my childish revolt against the Eeligion of my 
 country had not stripped me in time of my Academic 
 gown, the five important years, so liberally improved in 
 the studies and conversation of Lausanne, would have
 
 240 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mehoik C. 
 
 been steeped 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 
 enlightened 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 Cloyster. Had I obtained 
 a more early deliverance from the regions of sloth and 
 pedantry, had I been sent abroad with the indulgence 
 which the favour and fortune of my father might have 
 allowed, I should probably have herded with the young 
 travellers of my own nation, and my attainments in 
 language and manners and science would have been such 
 as they usually import from the continent. But my 
 religious error fixed me at Lausanne, in a state of banish- 
 ment 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 
 estranged me from my countrymen : I was reduced to 
 seek my amusement in myself and my books; and in 
 the society of the natives, who considered me as their 
 fellow-citizen, I insensibly lost the prejudices of an 
 Englishman. My friends may indeed complain that this 
 foreign education has eradicated the love and preference 
 of my native country ; my mother-tongue was grown less 
 familiar, and I had few objects to remember and fewer 
 to regret in the British islands. If I was impatient of 
 my situation, it was rather as a prisoner than as an exile ; 
 and I should gladly have accepted a small independent 
 estate on the easy terms of passing my life in Switzer- 
 land with the two persons who possessed the different 
 affections of my heart.
 
 KETUEN TO ENGLAND. 241 
 
 At length, in the spring of the year 1758, my father 
 signified his permission and his pleasure that I should 
 immediately return home. The jealousy of war pro- 
 hibited my passage through France, but I assumed the 
 name and dress of a Swiss Officer in the Dutch service, 
 without sufficient reflection on the danger of a discovery 
 and the guilt of a disguise. I took my leave of Lausanne 
 on the 11th of April, with a mixture of joy and grief, 
 and expressed my sincere resolution of visiting, as a man, 
 the persons and places which had been so dear to my 
 youth. My Journey was slow and pleasant, through the 
 provinces of Franche-Comte, Lorraine, Luxembourg, and 
 Liege. After dropping my two military companions at 
 their garrisons of Maestricht and Bois-le-Duc, I indulged 
 myself in a short visit to the Hague and Rotterdam, 
 embarked at the Brill, and landed in England on the 
 4th of May, 1758, after an absence of four years, ten 
 months, and fifteen days. 
 
 Section II. 
 
 At the age of twenty-one I returned as a stranger, 
 with a prejudice rather adverse than favour-able to my 
 native country. My aunt, Mrs. Catherine Porten, still 
 kept a boarding-house at Westminster ; and the nurse 
 of my infancy, the friend of my youth, was the only 
 person in England of whom I had cherished a tender 
 remembrance, whose kind embraces I was impatient to 
 seek. Of my father's character I had little knowledge ; 
 my infancy had seldom been favoured with his smiles. 
 I could not forget the severity of his look and language 
 at our last parting ; his letters to Lausanne had been 
 
 R
 
 242 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 few, brief, and imperious ; and in the relation between 
 us, I saw nothing but authority on his side and depend- 
 ence on mine. About three years before my return from 
 Switzerland he had engaged in a second marriage with 
 Mrs. Dorothea Patton, a lady of forty years of age, of 
 a respectable family and a moderate fortune. This step 
 might be interpreted as an act of his displeasure, and, 
 without knowing her, I Avas disposed to hate the rival 
 of my mother and the enemy of her son. My favourite 
 Classics might teach me to dread the bowl or dagger 
 of a stepmother. Euripides has observed that a second 
 wife is more cruel than a viper to the children of a 
 former bed, and on the road I had often muttered the 
 line of Virgil — 
 
 " Est mihi namque domi pater, est injnsta noverca." 
 
 But my fears and prejudice were removed by her presence,, 
 and this viper appeared to be a woman of polished 
 manners, an excellent understanding, and an amiable 
 character. Her behaviour at our first meeting assured 
 me that the surface would be smooth, and the suspicion 
 of artifice was gradually dispelled by the discovery of 
 her warm and exquisite sensibility. After some reserve 
 on my side, our minds associated in confidence and friend- 
 ship ; and as Mrs. Gibbon had neither children, nor hope& 
 of children of her owa, we more easily adopted the 
 tender names and genuine sentiments of mother and of 
 son. By her mediation, perhaps, my father was prepared 
 to receive me as a man and a friend. The rigoiir of 
 parental discipline has been relaxed by the philosophy 
 and softness of the age, and if he remembered how he 
 had himself trembled in the presence of a stern father, 
 it was only to adopt a more liberal and indulgent mode
 
 COMING OP AGE. 243 
 
 of behaviour. All constraint was banished on our first 
 interview, and we continued to live 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 aflfection, and our serene friendship 
 would never have been darkened by a cloud if his 
 fortune had been adequate to his wishes, or if his 
 ceconomy had always been proportioned to his fortune. 
 Some years of retirement in Hampshire had allowed him 
 to breathe, but it was only with the legal consent of 
 his son that he could break the fetters of an entail, and 
 alleviate in some degree the weight of his incumbrances. 
 The time of my recall had been so nicely comjDuted that 
 I arrived in London three days before I was of age, 
 and my blind submission to the sacrifice which he re- 
 quired has been justified by the more enlightened sense 
 of duty and prudence. According to the forms and 
 fictions of our law, I levied a tine, I suffered a recovery ; 
 the entail was cut off; a sum of ten thousand pounds 
 was raised on mortgage for my father's use, and he 
 acknowledged the obligation by settling on me for life 
 an annuity of three hundred pounds a year. During 
 the seven years (1758-1760, 1765-1770) which I divided 
 between London and Buriton, my ordinary expences were 
 reduced to this moderate stipend ; the extraordinaries of 
 the Militia and my travels (1760-1765) were defrayed, 
 the former by my pay of Captain, the latter by a stipu- 
 lated supply of twelve hundred pounds, and I may claim 
 the singular merit of never having borrowed a shilling 
 during the whole term of my filial dependence. From 
 the fashionable follies of English youth, the vanity of 
 dress, the mischief of play, and the imjDulse of perpetual
 
 244 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPFIY. [Memoir C. 
 
 motion, I was saved by temper as well as by oeconomy ; 
 and with the private establishment of a lodging, a servant, 
 and a chair, my amusements were simple, and my appe- 
 tites moderate. As soon as my purse was emptied by 
 the unavoidable charges of a town life, I retired without 
 a murmur to the shelter of domestic hospitality, and all 
 circulation was suspended for some months ; like those 
 animals who repose in a torpid state, without any occasion 
 to exhaust or renovate their vital juices. 
 
 Of the two years between my return to England and 
 the embodying of the Hampshire militia (May, 1758 — 
 May, 1760), I passed about ten months in London. The 
 metropolis affords many amusements, which are open to 
 all : it is itself a perpetual and astonishing spectacle to 
 the curious eye ; and each taste, every sense, may be 
 gratified by the variety of objects that will occur in the 
 long circuit of a morning walk. I assiduously frequented 
 the Theatres at a very propitious aera, when a constella- 
 tion of excellent actors, both in tragedy and comedy, was 
 eclipsed by the meridian brightness of Garrick, in the 
 maturity of his judgement and the vigour of his per- 
 formance. The pleasures of a town, life, the daily round 
 from the tavern to the play, from the play to the coffee- 
 house, from the Coffee-house to the Bagnio, are within 
 the reach of every man who is regardless of his money, 
 his health, and his company ; nor will I deny that, by 
 the contagion of example, I was sometimes seduced. The 
 better habits which I had formed at Lausanne induced 
 me to seek a more rational and elegant society ; but 
 my search was not easy or successful, and the first tryal 
 of a capital did not correspond with the gay pictures 
 of my fancy. I had promised myself the pleasure of
 
 LONDON SOCIETY. 245 
 
 conversing with every man of litterary fame ; but our most 
 eminent authors were remote in Scotland, or scattered 
 in the country, or buried in the Universities, or busy 
 in their callings, or unsocial in their tempers, or in a 
 station too high or too low to meet the approaches of a 
 solitary youth. Had the rank and fortune of my parents 
 given them an annual establishment in town, their house 
 would have introduced me to an encreasing circle of their 
 equals ; but my father had always delighted in a club of 
 peers or of farmers, for which he was equally qualified ; 
 and, after a twelve years' retirement, he was no longer in 
 the memory of the great with whom he had associated. 
 I found myself a foreigner in a vast and unknown city, 
 and at my entrance into life I was reduced to some dull 
 family parties, to some old Tories of the Cocoa-tree, and 
 to some casual connections, such as my taste and esteem 
 would never have selected. The most useful of my 
 lather's friends were the Mallets; they entertained me 
 with civility and kindness, at first on his, and afterwards 
 on my own account ; and I was soon (if I may use Lord 
 Chesterfield's word) domesticated in the family. Mr. 
 Mallet himself, a name among the English poets, is 
 praised by an unforgiving enemy (Dr. Johnson) for the 
 ease and elegance of his conversation ; and his wife, what- 
 soever might be her faults, was not deficient in wit or 
 knowledge. By his assistance I was introduced to Lady 
 Hervey, the mother of the present Earl of Bristol, who 
 had established a French house in St. James's place. At 
 an advanced period of life, she was distinguished by her 
 taste and politeness ; her dinners were select : every 
 evening her drawing-room was filled by a succession of 
 the best company of both sexes and all nations ; nor was
 
 246 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 I displeased at her preference and even affectation of the 
 books, the language, and manners of the Continent. But 
 my progress in the English World was in general left to 
 my own efforts, and those efforts were languid and slow. 
 I was not endowed by Nature or art with those happy 
 gifts of confidence and address which unlock every door 
 and every bosom : it would be unreasonable to complain 
 of the just consequences of my sickly childhood, foreign 
 education, and reserved disposition ; but, amidst the 
 crowds of London, I often breathed a sigh towards the 
 society of Lausanne.] 
 
 My father's residence in Hampshire, where I have 
 passed many light, and some heavy hours, was at Buriton, 
 near Petersfield, 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 
 into the fashion and convenience of a modern house, of 
 which I occupied the most agreable apartment ; and 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 chearful ; the 
 downs commanded the prospect of the sea, and the long 
 hanging woods in sight of the house could not perhaps 
 have been improved by art or expence. My father kept 
 in his own hands the whole of his 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. With the produce he 
 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
 
 LIFE AT BURITON. 247 
 
 team, an handsome set of bays or greys, was harnessed to 
 the coach. The oeconomy of the house was regulated by 
 the taste and prudence of Mrs. Gibbon, who prided herself 
 in the elegance of her occasional dinners, and from the 
 dirty * avarice of Madame Pavillard I was transported 
 to the neatness and luxury of an English table. Our 
 immediate neighbourhood was rare and rustic ; but from 
 the verge of our hills, as far as Chichester and Goodwood, 
 the western district of Sussex was filled with noble seats 
 and hospitable families, with whom we maintained a 
 friendly, and might have enjoyed a frequent, intercourse. 
 But the comforts of my retirement did not depend on 
 the ordinary pleasures of the country. QThe science of 
 farming could never be adapted to my understanding ; 
 and, in the command of an ample manor, I valued the 
 supply of the table rather than the exercise of the field.] 
 I never handled a gun, I seldom mounted an horse, and 
 my walks M'ere soon terminated by [some shady bench of 
 philosophic contemplation. When my father galloped 
 away on a fleet hunter to meet the Duke of Richmond's 
 foxhounds, I saw him depart without the wish or idea 
 of following his footsteps. Yet I was sometimes obliged 
 to accompany him to the provincial assemblies of races, 
 assizes, and balls. After the militia business began to 
 be agitated, many tedious days were consumed at Peters- 
 field, Alton, and Winchester, in our meetings of Justices 
 and Deputy-Lieutenants. In the contest for Hampshire 
 in 1759 between Stuart and Legge, we supported the 
 former candidate with some trouble and expence ; and I 
 had an opportunity of observing in his train the politics 
 
 Uncleanly " in Lord ShefiSeld's edition.
 
 248 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 and humours of an English canvass. From these excur- 
 sions I always returned with pleasure to my home at 
 Buriton : a domestic bond of affection and confidence is 
 the purest blessing of life ; and, as my stay was voluntary, 
 I was received and dismissed with smiles. 
 
 The love of learning was so deeply implanted in my 
 mind, as an amusement and even as a passion, that it 
 could no longer be eradicated by any change of place 
 or circumstances. In some respects my removal from 
 Switzerland to England was not unfavourable to the 
 progress of my studies. The library at Buriton was my 
 first inheritance and peculiar domain. It] 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 ; but it contained some valuable Editions of 
 the Classics and Fathers, the choice, as it should seem, 
 of Mr. Law, and many English publications of the times 
 had been occasionally added. ^The right of alienating 
 or purchasing I was allowed to exercise without much 
 controul or much assistance ; my bookseller's bill was 
 a weighty though pleasant article of expence ; and the 
 annual sales in London afforded a plentiful feast, at which 
 my litterary hunger was provoked and gratified. The 
 critical review of my library may be reserved for the 
 season of its maturity ; after observing in this place that 
 I have never purchased a book from a motive of ostenta- 
 tion, that every volume was read or examined before it 
 was deposited on the shelf; and that I soon adopted the 
 toleratins: maxim of the elder Plinv, " Nullum esse librum 
 tarn malum, ut nou ex aliqua parte prodesset." 
 
 After my library, I must not forget an occasional 
 j)lace of weekly study, the parish Church, which I
 
 EELIGIOUS STUDIES. 249 
 
 » 
 
 frequented commonly twice every Sunday, in conformity 
 with the pious or decent custom of the family. I 
 deposited in our pew the octavo Volumes of Grabe's 
 Septuagint, and a Greelt Testament of a convenient 
 edition ; and in the lessons, Gospels, and Epistles of the 
 morning and evening service, I accompanied the reader 
 in the original text, or the most ancient version of the 
 Bible. Nor was the use of this study confined to words 
 alone : during the psalms, at least, and the sermon I 
 revolved the sense of the chapters which I had read and 
 heard ; and the doubts, alas ! or objections that invincibly 
 rushed on my mind were almost always multiplied by 
 the learned expositors whom I consulted on my return 
 home. Of these Ecclesiastical meditations few were 
 transcribed, and still fewer have been preserved ; but 
 I find among my papers a polite and elaborate reply 
 from Dr. Hurd (now Bishop of Worcester), to whom I 
 had addressed, without my name, a critical disquisition 
 on the sixth Chapter of the book of Daniel. Since my 
 escape from Popery I had humbly acquiesced in the 
 common creed of the Protestant Churches ; but in the 
 latter end of the year 1759 the famous treatise of Grotius 
 (do veritate Religionis Christian«) first engaged me 
 in a regular tryal of the evidence of Christianity. By 
 every possible light that reason and history can afford, 
 I have repeatedly viewed the important subject ; nor was 
 it my fault if I said with Montesquieu, " Je lis pour 
 m'edifier mais cette lecture produit souvent en moi un 
 effet tout contraire," since I am conscious to myself that 
 the love of truth and the spirit of freedom directed my 
 search. The most accurate philosophers and the most 
 orthodox Divines will perhaps agree that the belief of
 
 250 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik C. 
 
 miracles and mysteries cannot be supported on the brittle 
 basis, the distant report, of human testimony, and that 
 the faith as well as the virtue of a Christian must be 
 formed and fortified by the inspiration of Grace. 
 
 In the pregnant state of a young mind, the ideas 
 which reading and meditation have generated are im- 
 patient to deliver themselves on paper. Among the 
 works of my leisure, I had planned and undertaken a 
 more elaborate composition ; and the French language 
 was used without affectation, as most easy and familiar to 
 my pen. I was animated by the desire of vindicating a 
 favourite study from the unjust contempt of the French 
 philosophers, who had degraded Scholars or Erudits among 
 the lowest mechanics of science. I was ambitious to 
 prove, by my example as well as by my arguments, that 
 all the nobler faculties, as well as the memory, might be 
 employed and displayed in the study of ancient litterature. 
 I had began to select and adorn the various proofs and 
 illustrations which had offered themselves in the perusal 
 of the Classics, and some pages or chapters of my Essay 
 were finished before my departure from Lausanne. The 
 hurry of the journey and the novelty of the English 
 World suspended my application, but the] object was ever 
 before my eyes ; and no more than ten days (from the first 
 to the eleventh of July, 1758) were suffered to elapse 
 after my summer establishment at Buriton. My Essay 
 was compleated in about six weeks ; and as soon as a fair 
 copy had been transcribed by one of the French prisoners 
 at Petersfield, I looked round for a critic and a judge of 
 my first performance. [[An author is seldom content ^ith 
 the doubtful reward of self-approbation; but a youth, 
 ignorant of mankind and of himself, may reasonably]
 
 STUDY OF ENGLISH STYLE. 251 
 
 desire to weigh his talents in some scales less partial than 
 his own. [My choice of Dr. Maty was judicious and 
 fortunate. By descent and education he was a French- 
 man : the eighteen Volumes (1750-1755) of his Journal 
 Britannique are a fair monument of a learned and liberal 
 mind ; and in the delicacy of his taste and philosophy, 
 that ingenious physician might be considered as the last 
 disciple of the school of Fontenelle. His answer to the 
 first letter of a stranger was prompt and polite ; and after 
 a careful examination, he returned my manuscript with 
 some animadversion and much applause. In the ensuing 
 winter, when I visited my Judge at the British Musaeum, 
 we discussed the design and execution in several free and 
 familiar conversations. In a short excursion to Buriton I 
 reviewed my Essay according to his friendly advice : a 
 third was suppressed ; a third was added ; a third was 
 altered. After marking the date (February 3'^ 1759) 
 by a short preface, the Manuscript was deposited in my 
 bureau. I still shrunk from the press with the terrors of 
 virgin modesty, and the nine years of Horace might 
 have slipped away before I could have resolved to 
 encounter the public eye. My hours were agreably 
 spent among the Latin and English classics ; and the 
 perfect recovery of my own language was the serious 
 and laudable object of my diligence. By the wise 
 counsel of Mr. Mallet, himself no contemptible writer, I 
 studied, in the prose of Swift and Addison, the purity, 
 the grace, the idiom, of the English style ; and my emula- 
 tion was kindled by the recent histories of Hume and 
 Robertson; far distant as I was from the presumptuous 
 hope that Tmj name might one day be ranked with those 
 celebrated names. In my first Essay I had gathered some
 
 252 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 of the flowers, in my second I would liave removed some of 
 the thorns, of litterature. A passage of Livy (xxxviii. 38) 
 involved me in the dry and dark treatises of Greaves, 
 Arbuthnot, Hooper, Bernard, Eisenschmidt, la Barre, 
 Freret, Gronovius, etc., and in my French work (c. xx.) I 
 absurdly send my reader to my own manuscript remarks 
 on the measures, weights, and coins of the ancients. This 
 important subject, an abstruse and technical language, is 
 connected with the Geography, history, and ceconomy of 
 Greece and Eome ; but my half-finished researches were 
 abruptly terminated by the sound of the Militia drum.] 
 
 In the outset of a glorious war the English people had 
 been defended and (sic) 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 Gentle- 
 men or Tories, who insensiblv transferred their lovaltv 
 to the house of Hanover. In the act of offering our 
 names and receiving our commissions, as IMajor and 
 Captain in the Hampshire Regiment (June 12, 1759), 
 we had not supposed that we should be dragged 
 away, my father from his farm, myself from my books, 
 and condemned more than two years and a half (^May 
 10, 1760— December 23, 17G2) 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 pretence of an 
 invasion had vanished, the popularity of Mr. 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. AVhen 
 the king's order for our embodying came down, it wa»
 
 WITH THE MILITIA. 253 
 
 too late to retreat and too soon to repent. The south 
 battalion of the Hampshh-e militia was a small indepen- 
 dent corps of fom* hundred and seventy -six, officers and 
 men, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Sir Thomas 
 Worsley, who, after a prolix and passionate contest, 
 delivered 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 
 Grenadier company ; but in the absence, or even in the 
 presence, of the two field-OfBcers, I was entrusted by my 
 friend and my father with the effective labour of dictating 
 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 
 Hilsea barracks, a seat of disease 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 the Devizes (October 23) ; to Salisbury (February 
 28, 1762) ; to our beloved Blandford a second time (March 
 0) ; 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 
 only occasion where we saw the face of an enemy was in
 
 254 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 onr duty at Porchester castle and Sissinghurst, which 
 were occupied by above five thousand Frenchman. These 
 enemies, it is true, were naked, unarmed prisoners : they 
 were relieved by public and private bounty ; but their 
 distress exhibited the calamities of War : and their joyous 
 noise the vivacity of the nation.] But the most splendid 
 and useful scene of our life, was a four months encamp- 
 ment on Winchester down, under the command of the 
 Earl of Effingham. Our army consisted of the thirty- 
 fourth Kegiment of foot and six Militia corps, [the Wilt- 
 shire, Dorsetshire, Berkshire, North and South Gloster- 
 shire, and South Hampshire, amounting to five thousand 
 men ; and the discipline of the Wiltshire claimed a pre- 
 eminence which was not disputed by the regulars them- 
 selves.] The consciousness of our defects was stimulated 
 by friendly emulation : we improved our time and oppor- 
 tunities in morning and evening 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 studies; the ballot of the ensuing 
 summer renewed our vigour and youth ; and had the 
 Militia subsisted another year, we might have contested 
 the prize with the most perfect of our brethren. 
 
 [My first work, the Essai sur Vetude de la Litteraturey. 
 was published in the year 1761, during the service of the 
 Militia. If I had yielded to the impulse of youthful 
 vanity, if I had given my IManuscript to the World,, 
 because I was tired of keeping it in my closet, the venial 
 sin might be honestly confessed, and would be easily 
 pardoned. But I can affirm, in truth and conscience, that 
 it was forced from my reluctant liands by the advice and
 
 PUBLICATION OF HIS FIRST ESSAY. 255 
 
 authority of my father. He was himself impatient to 
 enjoy the glory of his son ; and he fondly conceived that 
 the success of a Classical performance in the French 
 lanernaire might recommend the author to some honourable 
 employment in the approaching congress of Augsburgh, 
 which indeed was refused to the pacific wishes of Europe. 
 After a last revisal I anxiously consulted my two Judges, 
 Mr. Mallet and Dr. IMaty : they approved the design and 
 promoted the execution. The praBposterous mixture of 
 an English dedication was enjoyned by Mr. Mallet ; and 
 he delivered the Manuscript to Becket, a bookseller, who 
 undertook the impression in a small volume in duodecimo, 
 on the easy terms of supplying me with a certain number 
 of copies. Dr. Maty engaged, in my absence, to correct 
 the sheets ; and it was without my knoAvledge that he 
 inserted an elegant and flattering Epistle — so prudent, 
 however, that, in case of a defeat, he might excuse his 
 friendly indulgence to a young English Gentleman. I 
 received the first copy at Alresford (June 23, 1761) two 
 days before I marched into camp. Some weeks after- 
 wards, on the same ground, I presented my book to the 
 late Duke of York ; and as the Battalion was returning 
 from a field-day, the author, somewhat disfigured with 
 sweat and dust, appeared before his Eoyal Highness in 
 the cap, dress, and accoutrements of a grenadier. Ac- 
 cording to my father's and Mallet's directions, my 
 litterary gifts were distributed to several eminent cha- 
 racters in England and France. I had reserved for my 
 friends at Lausanne some tokens of my gratitude and 
 aftection ; and from these correspondents I reaped a sure 
 harvest of civility and praise. It is not surj)rizing that 
 a work, in language and manner so totally foreign, should
 
 256 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 have been more favourably entertained abroad than at 
 home : I was delighted with the co^hous extracts, warm 
 applause, and fair predictions of the Journals of Holland 
 and Paris ; and a new edition (I believe of Geneva) 
 diffused its fame, or at least its circulation, on the Con- 
 tinent. In Britain it was treated with cold indifference, 
 little read, and speedily forgotten ; the bookseller mur- 
 mured that a small impression was slowly dispersed, and 
 the author (had his feelings been more exquisite) might 
 have wept over the baldness and blunder of his English 
 translation. Fifteen years afterwards (such is the power 
 of a name), the first Volume of my history revived the 
 memory of my Essay on the study of literature : the 
 shops were eagerly searched ; and when the book occurs 
 in an auction, the fanciful price is raised from half a crown 
 to a Guinea or thirty shillings. The public curiosity was 
 gratified in some degree by a pyrated Edition at Dublin. 
 But, as I was proprietor of the copy, I denied Becket the 
 permission, which he solicited, of reprinting it ; and my 
 denial was the effect of pride rather than modesty. Yet, 
 in a cool, impartial perusal, near thirty years after the 
 first effusion, I am less ashamed than I might have ex- 
 pected of this juvenile treatise. The want of order and 
 perspicuity, the ardour of style and the affectation of wit 
 (CEuvres de Eousseau, tom. xxxiii. p. 88), are the errors 
 of an ambitious youth. But the substance is the fruit 
 of sound though superficial reading and thinking ; the 
 spirit is liberal ; and my Essay contains the seeds of some 
 ideas, especially on the Polytheism of the ancients, which 
 might deserve the illustrations of a riper judgement. 
 The merit of language still remains, and that merit is 
 .singular : the examples of Count Hamilton and the
 
 STUDIES OF A MILITIA OFFICEK. 257 
 
 Chevalier Eamsay are inadequate, and I may esteem 
 myself the first British writer who has aspired to the 
 purity and elegance of a French style.* 
 
 In the narrative of my litterary life, the first seven or 
 eight months of the Militia must be thrown aside as an 
 absolute blank. IMy hours were miserably wasted in the 
 exercises of the field or of the bottle, in the contemj)tible 
 details and disputes of the Battalion. In the tumultuous 
 hurry of an Inn, a barrack, or a guard-room, I was alike 
 destitute of leisure and of books ; but no sooner had we 
 reached the quiet solitude of Dover, than my mind 
 resumed its elasticity, and I can remember the pleasure 
 with which I opened a volume of Tully's philosophical 
 works, and afterwards followed my enquiries into the 
 Critical history of Manicheism, by the moderate and 
 sagacious Beausobre. After this recovery I never relapsed 
 into indolence, and my example might prove that, in the 
 life most adverse to study, some hours may be stolen, 
 some minutes may be snatched. Amidst the agitation of 
 a camp, I sometimes thought and read in my tent, and 
 in the more settled quarters of the Devizes, Blandford, 
 and Southampton, I always secured a separate lodging 
 and sufficient books. In the Militia I confirmed and 
 much improved my knowledge of the Greek language. 
 Reason and the practise of Scaliger directed me to 
 Homer, the father of poetry, the bible of the ancients. 
 He ran through the Iliad in twenty-one days ; but / was 
 
 * Two modern writers of imagi- in a foreign language by an Eng- 
 
 nation, Mr. Beckford and the late lishman is tlie translation of Hudi- 
 
 Mr. Hope, originally wrote, the bras by Mr. Townley. — Milman. 
 one Vatheli, the other Annstasius, To these may be added tlie late 
 
 in French; but perliaps the most Lord Stanhope's iafisfoiredesPrmces 
 
 extraordinary effort of composition de Condd'. 
 
 S
 
 258 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 not dissatisfied with my own diligence, whicli accomplished 
 the same task in as m^ny Aveeks. From the Iliad, I 
 proceeded with ease and delight to the Odyssey ; the 
 simple prose of Strabo and the sublime figm-es of Lon- 
 ginus enlarged my sphere of Geography and Criticism ; 
 and in a dissertation of thirty folio pages, I weighed in 
 my own scales the Epistles of Horace and the Com- 
 mentary of Hurd. The daily occupations of the Militia 
 introduced me to the science of Tactics, which opened a 
 new field of reading and remark. The narratives and 
 precepts of Polybius and Csesar, of Arrian and Onosander, 
 were consulted in the original text, and elucidated by 
 their best interpreter, Mr. Guichardt, who alone has 
 applied the learning of a Professor and the experience of 
 a Prussian veteran to the military system of the ancients. 
 A familiar view of 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 decline and fall of the Koman 
 Empire. After the publication of my Essay, I revolved the 
 plan of a second work ; and a secret Genius might whisper 
 in my ear that my talents were best qualified to excell in 
 the line of historical composition. The ages of the World 
 and the climates of the Globe were open to my choice, 
 and many names and subjects which had dazzled my eyes 
 were successively proscribed by my cooler meditation : 
 the Exj)edition of Charles VIII. into Italy ; the Crusade 
 of Eichard I. ; the Wars of the Barons till the establish- 
 ment of Magna Charta ; the exploits of the Black Prince ^ 
 the parallel characters of the Emperor Titus and Henry V. ; 
 and the lives of Sir Philip Sydney and Sir Walter
 
 MILITIA EXPERIENCES. 259 
 
 Ealeigh. The history of the origin and establishment of 
 the liberty of the Swiss, and the Kevolutions of the 
 Republic of Florence under the family of Medicis, sus- 
 tained the most rigorous scrutiny ; and I long hesitated 
 between these interesting themes. My short excursions 
 to Buriton were commonly employed in these preparatory 
 tryals, and the trains of reading, of thinking, and some- 
 times of writing into which I was led, left me no room to 
 repine at the loss of time or the failure of the experiment. 
 But I was soon called away from my library to the 
 battalion ; and these historical projects were finally sus- 
 pended by the long interruption of my travels. 
 
 That, in the Militia, a sedentary life was broken by 
 some salutary exercise of the mind and body, I shall not 
 deny. My active duties forced me from the closet into 
 the field: I hunted with a battalion instead of a pack ; 
 and at any hour of the day or night I was ready to fly 
 from quarters to London, from London to quarters, on the 
 slightest call of business or amusement. A quick and 
 various succession of new scenes and new faces emboldened 
 the reserve of a foreigner and a student ; and I became 
 familiar with the government and manners, the interests 
 and characters, of the English world. But these casual 
 benefits bore no proportion to the loss of time, of temper, 
 and of health. Our Colonel, Sir Thomas Worsley, was 
 an easy, good-humoured man, fond of my company, of his 
 bottle, and bed : our customary sittings were marked by 
 every stroke of the midnight and morning hours, and 
 the same drum which invited him to rest has often 
 summoned me to the parade. His example encouraged 
 in the Hampshire militia the vice of drinking ; and those 
 acts (let me confess), those habits of intemperance, have
 
 260 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 sown in my constitution the seeds of the gout. My 
 philosophy was sowred by the ignorance and vulgarity of 
 our rustic officers ; and my passions were heated by our 
 regimental disputes, in which my pen was too often 
 degraded to the ungrateful task of writing letters and 
 memorials against the claims and injuries of the Duke of 
 Bolton.] 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 feaver was cooled by the 
 enjoyment of our mimic Bellona, who soon unveiled to 
 my eyes her naked deformity. And often did I sigh for 
 my proper station in society and letters ! How often (a 
 proud comparison) did I repeat the complaint of Cicero 
 in the command of a provincial army — " Clitellae bovi 
 sunt impositae. Est incredibile quam me negotii tsedeat. 
 . . . Hie cursus animi et industriae mese praeclara opera 
 cessat. Lucem, libros, urbem domum, vos desidero. 
 Sed feram ut potero, sit modo annuum. Si prorogatum 
 actum est." From a service without danger I might, 
 indeed, have retired without disgrace : but as often as I 
 hinted a wish of resigning, my fetters were rivetted by 
 the friendly entreaties of the Colonel, the parental 
 authority of the Major, and my own regard for the honour 
 and wellfare of the Battalion. When I felt that my 
 personal escape was impracticable, I bowed my neck to 
 the yoke ; my servitude was protracted 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. 
 
 [|As soon as I was restored to the freedom of an 
 English Gentleman, I resolved, with my father's consent.
 
 SECOND JOURNEY ABROAD. 261 
 
 to execute the plan of foreign travel, which had been 
 suspended above four years by the general war, and 
 my particular engagements. Two or three years were 
 loosely defined for my tour of France and Italy : the 
 measure of my extraordinary expence had been already 
 fixed ; the choice of place and distribution of time were 
 left to my own judgement ; and such was my eagerness, 
 that in forty days I had shifted the scene from a guard- 
 room at Gosport to an Hotel in the Fauxbourg St. 
 Germain at Paris, where I resided (January 28 — May 9, 
 1763) between three and four months. 
 
 The moment was happily chosen. At the end of a 
 successful war the British name was respected on the 
 
 continent — 
 
 " Clarum et venerabile noraen 
 Gentibus." 
 
 Our opinions, our fashions, and even our games, were 
 adopted in France ; and every Englishman was supposed 
 to be born a patriot and a philosopher. I had provided 
 myself, before my departure, with honourable and 
 effective recommendations. My Essay entitled me to 
 a favourable reception ; and the style of my appearance 
 and equipage distinguished me from the hungry authors 
 who, even at Paris, are secretly envied and despised. In 
 the worlds of fashion and of science the national urbanity 
 surpassed my sanguine expectation. I listened to the 
 oracles of d'Alembert and Diderot, who reigned at the 
 head of the Encycloi^edie and the philosophic sect. I 
 shall be content to enumerate the well-known names of 
 the Count de Caylus, of the Abbes de la Bleterie, 
 Barthelemy, Raynal, Arnaud, of Messieurs de la Conda- 
 mine, Duclos, de Bougainville, de 8te. Palaye, de Guignes,
 
 262 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 Caperonuier, Suard, etc., without attempting to discri- 
 minate the shades of their characters or the degrees 
 of our acquaintance. Four times a week I might seat 
 myself, without invitation, at the hospitable and elegant 
 tables of Mesdames Geoffrin and du Bocage, of the 
 celebrated Helvetius, and of Baron d'Holbach. These 
 Symposia were enlivened by the free conflict of wit and 
 knowledge : the company was select, though various 
 and voluntary, and each unbidden guest might mutter 
 to himself — 
 
 AuTo^ixToi 5' dyaBoi 5€i\c2v inl 5a7ras Idcrii/.* 
 
 But I was often disgusted by the capricious tyranny 
 of Madame Geoffrin ; nor could I approve the intolerant 
 zeal of the friends of d'Holbach and Helvetius, who 
 preached the tenets of scepticism with the bigotry 
 of dogmatists, and rashly pronounced that every man 
 must be either an Atheist or a fool. The society of 
 Madame du Bocage was more soft and moderate, and 
 the evening conversations of Mr. de Foncemagne were 
 supported by the erudition and good sense 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 amusement. Two rival Actresses 
 divided the public applause ; but I will confess that 
 the consummate art of the Clairon was more agreable 
 to my taste then the intemperate though powerful 
 sallies of the Dumesnil. In the course of my morning- 
 excursions I explored every object of curiosity in the 
 City and Country ; the palaces, churches, and convents, 
 
 * Written without accent or breathing.
 
 PARIS — LAUSANNE. 263 
 
 the libraries, manufactures, and galleries of pictures. 
 The treasures of the Eoyal library I would have gladly 
 transported to London ; but, as an Englishman, I beheld 
 without envy the rich ornaments of Paris, which has 
 devoured a kingdom ; I darted a contemptuous look on 
 the stately monuments of superstition, and I viewed with 
 horror the prodigies of Versailles and Marly, which have 
 been cemented with the blood of the people. I have 
 reserved for the last the most exquisite blessing of life 
 — a female friend who received me every evening with 
 the smile of confidence and joy. Madame B[ontemps] 
 was an author without vanity, a devotee without gall : she 
 managed a small income with ceconomy and taste; in 
 the middle season of life, her beauty was an object of 
 desire, and if her heart was tender, if her passions were 
 warm, decency and gratitude should cast a veil over 
 her frailties. Fourteen weeks stole away in the 
 enchantment of Paris ; and had I been independent and 
 rich, I should have prolonged, and perhaps perpetuated, 
 my stay. 
 
 It had been my first design to advance from the 
 metropolis into the southern provinces of France; but 
 I was diverted from this long and costly circuit by the 
 recent expences of Paris, and the ancient love of Lau- 
 sanne. Shaping my course through Dijon and Besangon, 
 I arrived, in the month of May, 1763, on the delightful 
 banks of the Leman Lake; and such were the simple 
 attractions of the spot, that the summer was lost in the 
 autumn and succeeding winter, before I could resolve 
 to pass the Alps. An absence of five years had not 
 produced much alteration in manners or even in persons. 
 J\[y old friends of both sexes hailed my return — the most
 
 264 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 ijenuine proof of my attachment : they had been flattered 
 by the gift of my book, the growth of their soil; and 
 Pavillard shed tears of joy in embracing a pupil whose 
 litterary merit he might fairly impute to his own labours. 
 After a taste of English and Parisian luxury, it was 
 impossible that I could reconcile myself to his wife's 
 a3conomy ; nor were they offended at my entering myself 
 as a Pensionaire, or boarder, in the family of Monsieur and 
 Madame de Mesery. A style of elegant hospitality and 
 polite freedom was maintained by the various talents 
 of the Gentleman and Lady : their apartments in town 
 and country were spacious and elegant, and their whole 
 establishment stood for many years unparaleled in 
 Europe. The most numerous of then* guests were the 
 English : and I will not deny that the contagion of 
 my countrymen and the habits of the militia seduced 
 me into some intemperance and riot, which might have 
 been more excusable in my first residence at Lausanne, 
 As a youth I had courted the grave and instructive 
 conversation of my elders ; as a man I was most amused 
 in a young society, which had assumed the proud 
 though fading denomination of the Spring {la societe 
 clu prinfems). It consisted of fifteen or twenty unmarried 
 women, all agreeable, some handsome, and two sisters of 
 exquisite beauty. Under the guard of their own pru- 
 dence, they assembled almost every day at each other's 
 houses, which, in the absence of their mothers, were openi 
 to the young men of every nation. They laughed, they 
 sung, they danced, they played at cards, they acted 
 dramatic pieces ; but in the midst of this careless gayety 
 they respected themselves and were respected by the 
 men : the invisible line between liberty and licentious-
 
 ITALIAN TOUK, 1764-5. 265 
 
 ness was never transgressed by a gesture, a word, or a 
 look, and their virgin chastity was never sullied by the 
 breath of scandal — a singular institution, expressive of 
 the innocent simplicity of Swiss manners ! Some Eccle- 
 siastical quarrel had provoked Voltaire to retire to his 
 castle of Ferney, where I again visited the poet and the 
 actor without seeking his more intimate acquaintance, 
 to which I now might have pleaded a better title. But 
 the Theatre which he had founded, the disciples whom 
 he had formed at Lausanne, survived the loss of their 
 master ; and recent from Paris, I assisted with pleasure 
 at the representation of several tragedies and comedies 
 on their humble stage. In my ancient school I still found 
 motives and moments of application. My studies were 
 chiefly preparations for my Classic tour — the Latin poets 
 and historians, the science of Manuscripts, medals, and 
 inscriptions, the rules of Architecture, the Topography 
 and antiquities of Rome, the Geography of Italy, and 
 the military roads which pervaded the Empire of the 
 Csesars. Perhaps I might boast that few travellers more 
 compleatly armed and instructed have ever followed the 
 footsteps of Hannibal. As soon as the return of spring 
 had unlocked the mountains, I departed from Lausanne 
 (April 18, 1764) with an English companion (Mr., after- 
 wards Sir William Guise), whose partnership divided and 
 alleviated the expences of the Journey.] 
 
 I shall advance with rapid brevity in the narrative of 
 my Italian tour, in which somewhat more than a year (April, 
 1764 — May, 1765) was agreeably employed. Content 
 with tracing my line of march, and slightly touching on 
 my personal feelings, I shall wave the minute investiga- 
 tion of the scenes which have been viewed by thousands.
 
 26 G GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 and described by hundreds of our modern travellers. 
 EoME is the great object of our pilgrimage, and i. The 
 Journey, ii. The residence, and iii. The return will form 
 the most proper and perspicuous division, i. I climbed 
 Mount Cenis, and descended into the plain of Piedmont, 
 not on the back of an Elephant, but on a light osier seat, 
 in the hands of the dextrous and intrepid chairmen of 
 the xilps. The architecture and government of Turin 
 presented the same aspect of tame and tiresome uni- 
 formity, but the Court was regulated with decent and 
 splendid ceconomy ; and I was introduced to his Sardinian 
 IMajesty, Charles Emanuel,* who, after the incomparable 
 Frederic, held the second rank (proximus longo tamen 
 intervallo) among the Kings of Europe. The size and 
 populousness of Milan could not surprize an inhabitant 
 of London ; j^the Dome or Cathedral is an unfinished 
 monument of Gothic superstition and wealth :] but the 
 fancy is amused by a visit to the Boromean islands, 
 an enchanted palace, a work of the fairies in the 
 midst of a lake encompassed with mountains, and far 
 removed from the haunts of men. I was less amused 
 by the marble palaces of Genoa, than by the recent 
 memorials of her deliverance (in December, 174G) from 
 the Austrian tyranny : and I took a military survey 
 of every scene of action within the inclosure of her 
 double walls. My steps were detained at Parma and 
 Modena by the precious relics of the Farnese and Este 
 collections ; but, alas ! the far greater part had been 
 already transported, by inheritance or purchase, to Naples 
 
 * Charles Emanuel III., Klnp; trians at Guastalla, 1734 ; was de- 
 of Sardinia, born 1701; succeeded featcdby the Frencli and Spaniards 
 his father, 1730; defeated the Aus- at Coni, 1744; died 1773.
 
 FIRST SIGHT OF ROME. 267 
 
 and Dresden. By the road of Bologna and the Apenine 
 I at last reached Florence, where I reposed from June 
 to September, during the heat of the summer months. 
 In the gallery, and especially in the Tribune, I first 
 acknowledged, at the feet of the Venus of Medicis, that 
 the chissel may dispute the pre-eminence with the pencil — 
 a truth in the fine arts which cannot, on this side of the 
 Alps, be felt or understood. At home I had taken some 
 lessons of Italian ; on the spot I read with a learned 
 native the Classics of the Tuscan idiom ; but the short- 
 ness of my time, and the use of the French language, 
 prevented my acquiring any facility of speaking ; and I 
 was a silent spectator in the conversations of our envoy, 
 Sir Horace Mann, whose most serious business was that 
 of entertaining the English at his hospitable table. 
 After leaving Florence I compared the solitude of Pisa 
 with the industry of Lucca and Leghorn, and continued 
 my journey through Sienna to Eome, where I arrived 
 in the beginning of October, ii. My temper is not very 
 susceptible of enthusiasm, and the enthusiasm which I 
 do not feel I have ever scorned to affect. But at the 
 distance of twenty-five years I can neither forget nor 
 express the strong emotions which agitated my mind 
 as I first approached and entered the eternal City. After 
 a sleepless night, I trod with a lofty step the ruins of the 
 Forum; each memorable spot where Eomulus stood, or 
 Tully spoke, or Caesar fell, was at once present to my eye ; 
 and several days of intoxication were lost or enjoyed before 
 I could descend to a cool and minute investigation. My 
 guide was Mr. Byers,* a Scotch antiquary of experience 
 
 * James Byres, of Ton ley, in forty years in Rome in the stutly 
 Aberileenshiie (1733-1S17), spent of urchteology and in collecting
 
 268 GIBBOX'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik C. 
 
 and taste ; but in the daily labour of eighteen weeks 
 the powers of attention were sometimes fatigued, till I 
 was myself qualified, in a last review, to select and study 
 the capital works of ancient and modern art. Six weeks 
 were borrowed for my tour of Naples, the most populous 
 of cities relative to its size, whose luxurious inhabitants 
 seem to dwell on the confines of paradise and hell-fire. 
 I was presented to the boy-King * by our new Envoy, Sir 
 William Hamilton, who, wisely diverting his correspond- 
 ence from the Secretary of State to the Royal society 
 and British Musaeum, has elucidated a country of such 
 inestimable value to the Naturalist and Antiquarian. On 
 my return I fondly embraced, for the last time, the 
 miracles of Eome ; but I departed without kissing the 
 feet of Eezzonico (Clement XIII.), who neither pos- 
 sessed the wit of his predecessor Lambertini, nor the 
 virtues of his successor Ganganelli. iii. In my pilgrimage 
 from Eome to Loretto I again crossed the Apennine : 
 from the coast of the Adriatic I traversed a fruitful and 
 populous country, which would alone disprove the paradox 
 of Montesquieu that modern Italy is a desert. Without 
 adopting the exclusive prejudice of the natives, I sin- 
 cerely admired the paintings of the Bologna school. 
 I hastened to escape from the sad solitude of Ferrara, 
 which in the age of Caesar was still more desolate. The 
 spectacle of Venice afforded some hours of astonishment 
 [and some days of disgust] ; the university of Padua is 
 
 anti(iuities. At one time he pos- countrymen. 
 
 sessed the Portland Vase, which * Ferdinand IV., born 1751 ; suc- 
 
 lie sold to 8ir William Hamilton. ceeded to the kingdom of the Two 
 
 Sir James Hall alludes to the great Sicilies on the accession of his 
 
 influence exercised by him in cdu- father, Carlos III., to the throne 
 
 eating the classical taste of his of Spain, 1759 ; died 1825.
 
 USES OF FOREIGN TRAVEL. 269 
 
 a dying taper ; but Verona still boasts her amphitheatre, 
 and his native Vicenza is adorned by the classic archi- 
 tecture of Palladio. The road of Lombardy and Piedmont 
 (did IMontesquieu find them without inhabitants ?) led 
 me back to Lilian, Turin, and the passage of Mount 
 Cenis, where I again crossed the Alps in my way to 
 Lyons. 
 
 The use of foreign travel has been often debated as 
 a general question, but the conclusion must be finally 
 applied to the character and circumstances of each in- 
 dividual. With the education of boys, where or how 
 they may pass over some juvenile years with the least 
 mischief to themselves or others, I have no concern. But 
 after supposing the praevious and indispensable requisites 
 of age, judgement, a competent knowledge of men and 
 books, and a freedom from domestic prejudices, I will 
 briefly describe the qualifications which I deem most 
 essential to a traveller. He should be endowed with an 
 active, indefatigable vigour of mind and body, which can 
 seize every mode of conveyance, and support with a 
 careless smile every hardship of the road, the weather, 
 or the Inn. [It must stimulate him with a restless 
 curiosity, impatient of ease, covetous of time, and fear- 
 less of danger ; which drives him forth, at any hour of the 
 day or night, to brave the flood, to climb the mountain, 
 or to fathom the mine on the most doubtful promise of 
 entertainment or instruction. The arts of common life 
 are not studied in the closet; with a copious stock of 
 classical and historical learning, my traveller must blend 
 the practical knowledge of husbandry and manufactures ; 
 he should be a Chymist, a botanist, and a master of 
 mechanics. A musical ear M'ill multiply the pleasures
 
 270 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 of his Italian tour ; but a correct and exquisite eye, 
 which commands the landskip of a country, discerns 
 the merit of a picture, and measures the proportions of 
 a buihling, is more closely connected with the finer 
 feelings of the mind, and the fleeting image shall be 
 fixed and realized by the dexterity of the pencil. I 
 have reserved for the last a virtue which borders on a 
 vice ; the flexible temper which can assimilate itself to 
 every tone of society from the court to the cottage ; the 
 happy flow of spirits which can amuse and be amused in 
 every company and situation. With the advantage of 
 an independent fortune and the ready use of national and 
 provincial idioms, the traveller should unite the pleasing 
 aspect and decent familiarity which makes every stranger 
 an acquaintance, and the art of conversing with ignorance 
 and dulness on some topic of local or professional infor- 
 mation.] The benefits of foreign travel will correspond 
 with the degrees of these j^ various] qualifications, but in 
 this sketch ^of ideal perfection] those to whom I am 
 known will not accuse me of framing my own panygeric. 
 Q Yet the historian of the decline and fall must not regret 
 his time or expence, since it was the view of Italy and 
 Eome which determined the choice of the subject. In 
 my Journal the place and moment of conception are 
 recorded ; the fifteenth of October, 1764, in the close of 
 evening, as I sat musing in the Church of the Zoccolanti 
 or Franciscan fryars, while they were singing Vespers 
 in the Temple of Jupiter on the ruins of the Capitol.] 
 But my original plan was circumscribed to the decay of 
 the City rather than of the Empire ; and though my 
 reading and reflections began to point towards that object, 
 some years elapsed, and several avocations intervened.
 
 KETUEN TO ENGLAND. 271 
 
 before I was seriously engaged in tlie execution of that 
 laborious work. 
 
 I had not totally renounced the southern provinces, 
 of France, but the letters which I found at Lyons were 
 expressive of some impatience, [|the measure of absence 
 and expence was filled ;] Eome and Italy had satiated my 
 curious appetite, and [|the excessive heat of the weather 
 decided the sage resolution of turning my face to the 
 north, and seeking] the peaceful retreat of my family and 
 books. After an happy fortnight, £1 tore myself from the 
 embraces of*] Paris, embarked at Calais, again landed at 
 Dover, after an interval of two years and five months, 
 and hastily drove through the summer dust and solitude 
 of London. [On the 25th of June, 1765, I reached the 
 rural mansion of my parents, to whom I was endeared by 
 my long absence and chearful submission. 
 
 After my first (1758) and my second return to 
 England (1765), the forms of the pictures were nearly 
 the same : but the colours had been darkened by time ;] 
 and the five years and a half between my travels and my 
 father's death (1770) are the portion of my life which I 
 passed with the least enjoyment, and which I remember 
 with the least satisfaction. ^I ^^^'® nothing to change 
 (for there was not any change) in the annual distribution 
 of my summers and winters, between my domestic resi- 
 dence in Hampshire and a casual lodging at the west 
 end of the town; though once, from the tryal of some 
 months, I was tempted to substitute the tranquil dissipa- 
 tion of Bath instead of the smoke, the expence, and the 
 tumult of the Metropolis, fumum, et opes, strepitumque 
 
 * "Reluctantly left" iu Lord Sheffield's editioa
 
 272 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 Roraae.] Every spring I attended the montlily meeting 
 and exercise of the militia at Southampton ; and, by the 
 resignation of my father and the death of Sir Thomas 
 Worsley, I was successively promoted to the rank of 
 Major and Lieutenant-Colonel-Commandant. QUnder the 
 care (may I presume to say?) of a veteran officer, the 
 south Battalion of the Hampshire militia acquired the 
 degree of skill and discipline which was compatible 
 with the brevity of time and the looseness of peaceful 
 subordination ;] but I was each year more disgusted with 
 the Inn, the wine, the company, and the tiresome 
 repetition of annual attendance and daily exercise. At 
 home, the oeconomy of the family and farm still main- 
 tained the same creditable appearance. [[I was received, 
 entertained, and dismissed with similar kindness and 
 indulgence :] my connection with Mrs. Gibbon was 
 mellowed into a warm and solid attachment ; my 
 growing years abolished the distance that might yet 
 remain between a parent and a son, and my behaviour 
 satisfied my father, who was proud of the success, 
 however imperfect in his own lifetime, of my litterary 
 talents. Our solitude was soon and often enlivened 
 by the visit of the friend of my youth, of Mr. Deyver- 
 dun, whose absence from Lausanne I had sincerely 
 lamented. About three years after my first departure 
 he had migrated from his native lake to the banks of the 
 Oder in Germany. The res angusta domi, the waste of 
 a decent patrimony by an improvident father, obliged 
 him, like many of his countrymen, to confide in his own 
 industry ; and he was entrusted with the education of a 
 young prince, the grandson of the Margrave of Schwedt, 
 of the Koyal family of Prussia. Our friendship was never
 
 THE ROMAN CLUB. 273 
 
 cooled, our correspondence was sometimes interrupted : 
 but I rather wished than hoped to obtain Mv. Deyverdun 
 for the companion of my Italian tour. An unhappy 
 though honourable passion drove him from his German 
 court, and the attractions of hope and curiosity were 
 fortified by the expectation of my speedy return to 
 England, f I was allowed to offer him the hospitality of 
 the house :] during four successive summers he passed 
 several weeks or months at Buriton, and our free con- 
 versations on every topic that could interest the heart or 
 imderstanding would have reconciled me to a desert or a 
 prison. In the winter months of London my sphere of 
 knowledge and action was somewhat enlarged by the 
 many new acquaintance which I had contracted in the 
 Militia and abroad ; and I must regret, as more than an 
 acquaintance, Mr. Godfrey Clarke of Derbyshire, an 
 amiable and worthy young man, who was snatched away 
 by an untimely death. A weekly convivial meeting was 
 instituted by myself and my fellow-travellers under the 
 name of the Roman Club ; * [and I was soon ballotted into 
 Boodle's (the school of virtue, as the Earl of Shelburne 
 had first named it), where I found the daily ressource of 
 excellent dinners, mixed company, and moderate play. 
 I must own, however, with a blush, that my virtues of 
 temperance and sobriety had not compleately recovered 
 themselves from the wounds of the militia, that my 
 
 * The members were Lord liam Guise, Sir John Aubrey, the 
 
 Mountstuart (now Marquis of late Earl of Abingdon, Hon. Pere- 
 
 Bute), Colonel Edmonstone, Wil- grine Bertie, Rev. Mr. Cleaver, 
 
 liam Weddal, Rev. Mr. Palgrave, Hon. John Damer, Hon. George 
 
 Earl of Berkley, Godfrey Clarke Damer (late Earl of Dorchester), 
 
 (Member for Derbyshire), Holroyd Sir Thomas Gascoygne, Sir John 
 
 (Lord Sheffield), Major Ridley, Hort, E. Gibbon. — Lord Shef- 
 
 Thomas Charles Bigge, Sir Wil- field. 
 
 T
 
 274 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 connections were much less among women than men, 
 and that these men, though far from contemptible in 
 rank and fortune, were not of the first eminence in the 
 litterary or political World.] 
 
 The renewal, or perhaps the improvement, of my 
 English life was embittered by the alteration of my own 
 feelings. At the age of twenty-one I was, in my proper 
 station of a youth, delivered from the yoke of education, 
 and delighted with the comparative state of liberty and 
 affluence. My filial obedience was natural and easy ; and 
 in the gay prospect of futurity, my ambition did not 
 extend beyond the enjoyment of my books, my leisure, 
 and my patrimonial estate, undisturbed by the cares of a 
 family and the duties of a profession. But in the militia 
 I was armed with power, in my travels I was exempt 
 from controul ; and as I approached, as I gradually tran- 
 scended my thirtieth year, I began to feel the desire of 
 being master in my own house. The most gentle authority 
 will sometimes frown without reason, the most chearful 
 submission will sometimes murmur without cause; and 
 such is the law of our imperfect nature, that we must 
 either command or obey ; that our personal liberty is 
 supported by the obsequiousness of our own dej)endents. 
 While so many of my acquaintance were married, or in 
 parliament, or advancing with a rapid step in the various 
 roads of honours and fortune, I stood alone, immoveable 
 and insignificant ; for after the monthly meeting of 1770 
 I had even withdrawn myself from the militia, by the 
 resignation of an empty and barren commission. My 
 temper is not susceptible of envy, and the view of suc- 
 cessful merit has always excited my warmest applause. 
 £A matrimonial alliance has ever been the object of my
 
 PROSPECTS OF SETTLING DOWN. 275 
 
 terror rather than of my wishes. I was not very strongly 
 pressed by my family or my passions to propagate the 
 name and race of the Gibbons, and if some reasonable 
 temptations occurred in the neighbourhood, the vague 
 idea never proceeded to the length of a serious negocia- 
 tion.] The miseries of a vacant life were never known to 
 a man whose hours were insufficient for the inexhaustible 
 pleasures of study. But I lamented that at the proper 
 age I had not embraced the lucrative pursuits of the law 
 or of trade, the chances of civil office or India adventure, 
 or even the fat slumbers of the Church ; and my repent- 
 ance became more lively as the loss of time was more 
 irretrievable. Experience shewed me the use of grafting 
 my private consequence on the importance of a great 
 professional body — the benefits of those firm connections 
 which are cemented by hope and interest, by gratitude 
 and emulation, by the mutual exchange of services and 
 favours. From the emoluments of a profession I might 
 have derived an ample fortune or a competent income, 
 instead of being stinted to the same narrow allowance, 
 to be encreased only by an event which I sincerely 
 deprecated. The progress and the knowledge of our 
 domestic disorders aggravated my anxiety, and I began 
 to apprehend that I might be left in my old age without 
 the fruits either of industry or inheritance. 
 
 In the first summer after my return, whilst I enjoyed 
 at Buriton the society of my friend Deyverdun, our daily 
 conversations exspatiated over the field of ancient and 
 modern litterature, and we freely discussed my studies, 
 my first Essay and my future prosj)ects. The decline 
 and fall of Kome I still contemplated at an awful 
 ■distance : but the two historical desij^ns which had
 
 276 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik C. 
 
 balanced my choice were submitted to bis taste, and in 
 the paralel between the revolutions of Florence and 
 Switzerland, our common partiality for a country which 
 was his by birth and mine by adoption inclined the scale 
 in favour of the latter. According to the plan, which 
 was soon conceived and digested, I embraced a period of 
 two hundred years from the association of the three 
 peasants of the Alps to the plenitude and prosperity of 
 the Helvetic body in the sixteenth century. I should 
 have described the deliverance and victory of the Swiss,- 
 who have never shed the blood of their tyrants but in a 
 field of battle ; the laws and manners of the confederate 
 states ; the splendid trophies of the Austrian, Burgundian, 
 and Italian wars ; and the wisdom of a nation who, after 
 some sallies of martial adventure, has been content to. 
 guard the blessings of peace with the sword of freedom. 
 
 " Manns hsec inimica T\'rannis 
 Ense petit placiclam sub Hbertate qiiietem." 
 
 My judgement, as well as my enthusiasm, was satisfied 
 with the glorious theme ; and the assistance of Deyverdun 
 seemed to remove an insuperable obstacle. The French 
 or Latin memorials, of Avhich I was not ignorant, are 
 inconsiderable in number and weight ; but in the perfect 
 acquaintance of my friend with the German language I 
 found the key of a more valuable collection. The most 
 necessary books were procured ; he translated for my 
 use the folio volume of Schilling, a copious and con- 
 temporary relation of the war of Burgundy ; we read and 
 marked the most interesting parts of the great chronicle 
 of Tschudi ; and by his labour, or that of an inferior 
 assistant, large extracts were made from the History of 
 Lauffer and the Dictionary of Leu. Yet such was the
 
 SWISS HISTORY ABANDONED. 
 
 277 
 
 distance and delay, that two years elapsed in these 
 preparatory steps ; and it was late in the third summer 
 (1767) before I entered, with these slender materials, on 
 the more agreable task of composition. A specimen of 
 my history, the first book, was read the following winter 
 in a litterary society of foreigners in London ; and as the 
 author was unknown, I listened, without observation, to 
 the free strictures and unfavourable sentence of my 
 judges.* The momentary sensation was painful, but their 
 condemnation was ratisfied (sic) by my cooler thoughts ; I 
 delivered my imperfect sheets to the flames,! and for ever 
 renounced a design in w'hich some expeuce, much labour, 
 
 * Mr. Hume seems to have had 
 a different opinion of this work. 
 
 From Mr. Hume to Mr, Gibbon. 
 
 Sir, — It is but a few days ago 
 since M. Deyverdun put your 
 manuscript into my Lands, and I 
 liave perused it with great plea- 
 sure and satisfaction. I have only 
 one objection, derived from the 
 language in which it is written. 
 Why do you compose in French, 
 and carry faggots into the wood, 
 as Horace says with regard to 
 Eomans who wrote in Greek ? I 
 grant tliat you have a like motive 
 to those Romans, and adopt a lan- 
 guage much more generally dif- 
 fused than your native tongue : 
 but have you not remarked the 
 fate of those two ancient languages 
 in following ages? The Latin, 
 though then less celebrated, and 
 coniined to more narrow limits, has 
 in some measure outlived the Greek, 
 and is now more generally under- 
 stood by men of letters. Let the 
 French, therefore, triumph in the 
 present diffusion of their tongue. 
 Our solid and increasing estab- 
 lishments in America, where we 
 need less dread the inundation of 
 JJarbarians, promise a superior sta- 
 tiility and duration to the English 
 
 language. 
 
 Your use of the French tongue 
 has also led you into a style more 
 poetical and figurative, and more 
 highly coloured, than our languuge 
 seems to admit of in historical pro- 
 ductions: tor such is the practice 
 of French writers, particularly the 
 more recent ones, who illuminate 
 their pictures more than cu.stora 
 will permit us. On the whole, 
 your History, in my opinion, is 
 written with spirit and judgment ; 
 and I exhort you very earnestly to 
 continue it. The objections that 
 occurred to me on reading it were 
 so frivolous that I shall not trouble 
 you with them, and should, I be- 
 lieve, have a difficulty to recollect 
 them. I am, with great esteem, 
 
 Sir, your most obedient 
 and most humble servant, 
 (Signed) David Hume. 
 London, 
 
 24th of Oct. 1707. 
 
 t He neglected to burn them. 
 He left at Sheffield Place the 
 introduction, or first book, in forty- 
 three pages folio, written in a very 
 small hand, besides a considerable 
 number of notes. Mr. Hume's 
 opinion, expressed in the letter in 
 the last note, perhaps may justify 
 the publication of it. — Sheffield.
 
 278 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 and more time had been so vainly consumed. I cannot 
 regret the loss of a slight and superficial Essay ; for such 
 the work must have been in the hands of a stranger, 
 uninformed by the scholars and statesmen, remote from 
 the libraries and archives of the Swiss Eepublics. My 
 ancient habits, and the presence of Deyverdun, encouraged 
 me to write in French for the Continent of Europe ; but 
 I was conscious myself that my style, above prose and 
 lielow poetry, degenerated into a verbose and turgid 
 declamation. Perhaps I may impute the failure to the 
 injudicious choice of a foreign language. Perhaps I may 
 suspect that the language itself is ill adapted to sustain 
 the vigour and dignity of an important narrative. But 
 if France, so rich in litterary merit, had produced a great 
 original historian, his Genius would have formed and 
 fixed the idiom to the proper tone, the peculiar mode of 
 historical eloquence. 
 
 It was in search of some liberal and lucrative employ- 
 ment that my friend Deyverdun had visited England : 
 his remittances from home were scanty and precarious. 
 My purse was always open, but it was often empty; and 
 I bitterly felt the want of riches and power, which might 
 have enabled me to correct the errors of his fortune. 
 His wishes and qualifications solicited the station of the 
 travelling governor of some wealthy pupill ; but every 
 vacancy provoked so many eager candidates, that for a 
 long time I struggled without success; nor was it till 
 after much application that I could even place him as a 
 clerk in the office of the Secretary of state. In a resi- 
 dence of several years he never acquired the just pro- 
 nunciation and familiar use of the English tongue, but 
 ho read our most difficult authors witli ease and taste ;
 
 M. DEY VERDUN. 279 
 
 his critical knowledge of our language and poetry was 
 
 such as few foreigners have possessed, and few of our 
 
 countrymen could enjoy the Theatre of Shakespeare and 
 
 Garrick with more exquisite feeling and discernment. 
 
 The consciousness of his own strength and the assurance 
 
 of my aid emboldened him to imitate the example of 
 
 Dr. Maty, whose Journal Britannique was esteemed and 
 
 regretted ; and to improve his model, by uniting with 
 
 the transactions of litterature a philosophic view of the 
 
 arts and manners of the British nation. Our Journal for 
 
 the year 1767, under the title of Memoires Litteraires de 
 
 la Grande Bretagne, was soon finished and sent to the 
 
 press. For the first article, Lord Lyttleton's history of 
 
 Henry II., I must o\^'n myself responsible ; but the public 
 
 has ratified my judgement of that voluminous work, in 
 
 which sense and learning are not illuminated by a ray of 
 
 Genius. The next specimen was the choice of my friend, 
 
 the Bath Guide, a light and whimsical performance, of 
 
 local and even verbal pleasantry. I started a*t the 
 
 attempt ; he smiled at my fears : his courage was justified 
 
 by success, and a master of both languages will applaud 
 
 the curious felicity with which he has transfused into 
 
 French prose the spirit, and even humour, of the English 
 
 verse. It is not my wish to deny how deeply I was 
 
 interested in these Memoirs, of which I need not surely 
 
 be ashamed ; but, at the distance of more than twenty 
 
 years, it would be impossible for me to ascertain the 
 
 respective shares of the two associates. A long and 
 
 intimate communication of ideas had cast our sentiments 
 
 and style in the same mould : in our social labours we 
 
 composed and corrected by turns, and the praise which 
 
 I might lionestly bestow would fall perhaps on some
 
 280 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu C. 
 
 article or passage most properly my own. A second 
 volume (for the year 1768) was published of these 
 Memoirs : I will presume to say that their merit was 
 superior to their reputation, but it is not less true that 
 they were productive of more reputation than emolument. 
 They introduced my friend to the protection, and myself 
 to the acquaintance, of the Earl of Chesterfield, whose 
 age and infirmities secluded him from the World ; and of 
 Mr. David Hume, who was under-Secretary to the ofiice 
 in which Deyverdun was more humbly employed. The 
 former accepted a dedication (April 12, 1769), and reserved 
 the author for the future education of his successor ; the 
 latter enriched the Journal with a reply to Mr. Walpole's 
 historical doubts, which he afterwards shaped into the 
 form of a note. The materials of the third volume were 
 almost compleated, when I recommended Deyverdun as 
 Governor to Sir Eichard Worsley, a youth, the son of my 
 old Lieutenant-Colonel, who was lately deceased. They 
 set forwards on their travels, nor did they return to 
 England till some time after my father's death. 
 
 My next publication was an accidental sally of love 
 and resentment ; of my reverence for modest Genius, and 
 my aversion to insolent pedantry. The sixth book of 
 the -3^neid is the most pleasing and perfect composition 
 of Latin poetry. The descent of ^neas and the Sybill 
 to the infernal regions, to the world of spirits, expands an 
 awful and boundless prospect, from the nocturnal gloom 
 of the Cumaean grot — 
 
 " Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram "— 
 to the meridian brightness of the Elysian fields — 
 
 " Largior hie carapos ajther et himine vestit 
 Purpureo "
 
 CONTKOVERSY WITH WARBURTON. 281 
 
 from the dreams of simple nature to the dreams, alas ! of 
 ^Egyptian Theology and the Philosophy of the Greeks. 
 But the final dismission of the Hero through the Ivory 
 gate, from whence 
 
 " Falsa ad ccclum mittunt insomnia manes," 
 
 seems to dissolve the whole enchantment, and leaves the 
 reader in a state of cold and anxious scepticism. This 
 most lame and impotent conclusion has been variously 
 imputed to the haste or irreligion of Virgil ; but, accord- 
 ing to the more elaborate interpretation of Bishop 
 Warburton, the descent to hell is not a false, but a 
 mimic scene, which represents the initiation of vEneas, 
 in the character of a Law-giver, to the Eleusinian 
 mysteries. This hypothesis, a singular chapter in the 
 Divine legation of Moses, had been admitted by many 
 as true, it was praised by all as ingenious ; nor had it 
 been exposed, in a space of thirty years, to a fair and 
 critical discussion. The learning and abilities of the 
 author had raised him to a just eminence; but he reigned 
 the Dictator and tyrant of the World of Litterature. The 
 real merit of Warburton was degraded by the pride and 
 presumption with which he pronounced his infallible 
 decrees; in his polemic writings he lashed his an- 
 tagonists without mercy or moderation, and his servile 
 flatterers (see the base and malignant delicacy of friend- 
 ship),* exalting the master critic far above Aristotle 
 and Longinus, assaulted every modest dissenter who 
 refused to consult the oracle and to adore the Idol. In 
 a land of liberty such despotism must provoke a general 
 
 * By Htird, afterwards Bishop Tracts by Warburton, and a War- 
 of Worcester. See Dr. Parr's burtonian. — Lord Shekpield.
 
 282 GIBBON^S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 opposition, and the zeal of opposition is^seldom candid or 
 impartial. A late Professor of Oxford (Dr. Lowth), in a 
 pointed and polished Epistle * (August 31, 1765), defended 
 himself and attacked the bishop ; and, whatsoever might 
 be the merits of an insignificant controversy, his victory 
 was clearly established by the silent confusion of War- 
 burton and his slaves. I too, without any private offence, 
 was ambitious of breaking a lance against the Giant's 
 shield; and in the beginning of the year 1770, my 
 Critical observations on the sixth book of the -iS^neid 
 were sent, without my name, to the press. In this short 
 Essay, my first English publication, I aimed my strokes 
 against the person and the Hypothesis of Bishop War- 
 burton. I proved, at least to my own satisfaction, that 
 the ancient Lawgivers did not invent the mysteries, and 
 that ^neas was never invested with the office of law- 
 giver. That there is not any argument, any circum- 
 stance, which can melt a fable into allegory, or remove 
 the scene from the lake Avernus to the temple of Ceres. 
 That such a wild supposition is equally injurious to the 
 poet and the man. That if Yirgil was not initiated he 
 could not, if he were he would not, reveal the secrets of 
 the initiation. That the anathema of Horace (Yetabo qui 
 Cereris sacrum, vulgarit, etc.) at once attests his own 
 ignorance and the innocence of his friend. As the 
 Bishop of Gloucester and his party maintained a discreet 
 silence, my critical disquisition was soon lost among the 
 pamphlets of the day ; but the public coldness was over- 
 balanced to my feelings by the weighty approbation of 
 
 * This letter of Lowth's is a Ciiristian prelates engaged in this 
 
 masterpiece of its kind, and, it" our tierce intellectual gladiatorism, 
 
 calmer judgment is offended by tlie chief blame must fall on tho 
 
 the unseemly spectacle of two aggressor, Warburtou. — Milman
 
 CONTROVERSY WITH WARBURTON. 
 
 283 
 
 the last and best Editor of Virgil, Professor Heyne of 
 Gottingen, who acquiesces in my confutation, and styles 
 the unknown author doctus . . . et elegantissimus 
 Britannus. But I cannot resist the temptation of tran- 
 scribing the favourable judgement of Mr. Hay ley, himself 
 a poet and scholar : " x\.n intricate hypothesis, twisted 
 into a long and laboured chain of quotation and argu- 
 ment, the Dissertation on the sixth book of Virgil, 
 remained some time unrefuted. ... At length, a superior 
 but anonymous critic arose, who, in one of the most 
 judicious and spirited Essays that our nation has produced 
 on a point of Classical literature, completely overturned 
 this ill-founded edifice, and exposed the arrogance and 
 futility of its assuming architect." He even condescends 
 to justify an acrimony of style, which had been gently 
 blamed by the more unbyassed German, " Paullo acrius 
 quam velis . . . perstrinxit." * But I cannot forgive 
 myself the contemptuous treatment of a man who, with 
 all his faults, was entitled to my esteem ; f and I can 
 less forgive, in a personal attack, the cowardly conceal- 
 ment of my name and character. 
 
 In the fifteen years between my Essay on the study 
 of literature and the first Volume of the decline and 
 fall (1761-1776), this criticism on Warburton, and some 
 
 * The editor of the Warbur- 
 tonian tracts, Dr. Parr (p. 192;, 
 considers the allegorical interpre- 
 tation " as completely refuted in a 
 most clear, elegant, and decisive 
 work of criticism ; which could 
 not, indeed, derive authority from 
 the greatest name, but to which 
 tiie greatest name might with pro- 
 priety have been affixed." — Lord 
 Sheffield. 
 
 t The Divine Lerjation of Moses 
 is a monument, already crumbling 
 
 in the dust, of the vigour and 
 weakness of the human mind. If 
 Warburton 's new argument proved 
 anything, it would be a demonstra- 
 tion against tlie legislator who left 
 his people without tiie knowledge 
 of a future state. But some epi- 
 sodes of the work, on the Greek 
 philosophy, the hieroglyphics of 
 Egypt, etc., are entitled to the 
 praise of learning, imagination, and 
 discernment. — Loud Sheffield.
 
 284 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik C. 
 
 articles in the Journal, were my sole publications. It is 
 2nore specially incumbent on me to mark the employ- 
 ment, or to confess the waste of time, from my travels 
 to my father's death, an interval in which I was not 
 diverted by any professional duties from the labours and 
 pleasures of a studious life. i. As soon as I was released 
 from the fruitless task of the Swiss revolutions, I more 
 seriously undertook (1768) to methodize the form, and 
 to collect the substance of my Roman decay, of whose 
 limits and extent I had yet a very inadequate notion. 
 The Classics, as low as Tacitus, the younger Pliny, and 
 Juvenal were my old and familiar companions : I 
 insensibly plunged into the Ocean of the Augustan 
 history ; and in the descending series I investigated, 
 with my pen almost always in my hand, the original 
 records, both Greek and Latin, from Dion Cassius to 
 Ammianus Marcellinus, from the reign of Trajan to 
 the last age of the western Caesars. The subsidiary rays 
 of Medals and inscriptions of Geography and Chronology 
 were thrown on their proper objects ; and I applied the 
 collections of Tillemont, whose inimitable accuracy almost 
 assumes the character of Genius, to fix and arrange within 
 luy reach the loose and scattered atoms of historical 
 information. Through the darkness of the middle ages 
 I explored my way in the Annals and Antiquities of 
 Italy of the learned Muratori ; and diligently compared 
 them with the parallel or transverse lines of Sigonius 
 and Mafifei, Baronius and Pagi, till I almost grasped the 
 ruins of Rome in the fourteenth Century, without sus- 
 pecting that this final chapter must be attained by 
 the labour of six quartos and twenty years. Among the 
 books which I purchased, the Theodosian Code, with the
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR ROMAN HISTORY. 285 
 
 commentary of James Godefroy, must be gratefully re- 
 membered. I used it (and much I used it) as a work of 
 history rather than of Jurisprudence ; but in every light 
 it may be considered as a full and capacious repository 
 of the political state of the Empire in the fourth and 
 fifth Centuries. As I believed, and as I still believe, 
 that the propagation of the gospel and triumph of the 
 Church are inseperably connected with the decline of 
 the Eoman Monarchy, I weighed the causes and effects 
 of the Eevolution, and contrasted the narratives and 
 apologies of the Christians themselves, with the glances 
 of candour or enmity which the Pagans have cast on the 
 rising sect. The Jewish and Heathen testimonies, as they 
 are collected and illustrated by Dr. Lardner, directed, 
 without superseding my search of the originals ; and in 
 an ample dissertation on the miraculous darkness of the 
 passion, I privately drew my conclusions from the silence 
 of an unbelieving age. I have assembled the prepa- 
 ratory studies directly or indirectly relative to my 
 history ; but, in strict equity, they must be spread beyond 
 this period of my life, over the two summers (1771 and 
 1772) that elapsed between my father's death and my 
 settlement in London, ii. In a free conversation with 
 books and men, it would be endless to enumerate the 
 names and characters of all who are introduced to our 
 acquaintance, but in this general acquaintance we may 
 select the degrees of friendship and esteem. According 
 to the wise maxim, " Multum legere potius quam multa,"^ 
 I reviewed again and again the immortal works of the 
 French and English, the Latin and Italian Classics, 
 My Greek studies (though less assiduous than I de- 
 signed) maintained and extended my knowledge of that
 
 286 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 incomparable idiom. Homer and Xenophon were still 
 my favourite authors ; and I had almost prepared for the 
 press an Essay on the Cyropaedia, which in my own 
 judgement is not unhappily laboured. After a certain 
 age the new publications of merit are the sole food 
 of the many ; and the most austere student will be 
 often tempted to break the line, for the sake of indulging 
 his own curiosity and of providing the topics of fashion- 
 able currency. A more respectable motive may be 
 assigned for the triple perusal of Blackstone's commen- 
 taries, and a copious and critical abstract of that English 
 work was my first serious production in my native 
 language, iii. My litterary leisure was much less com- 
 pleat and independent than it might appear to the eye 
 of a stranger : in the hurry of London I was destitute of 
 books ; in the solitude of Hampshire I was not master 
 of my time. QBy the habit of early rising I always 
 secured a sacred portion of the day ; and many precious 
 moments were stolen and saved by my rational avarice. 
 But the family hours of breakfast and dinner, of tea and 
 supper, were regular and tedious : after breakfast Mrs. 
 Gibbon expected my company in her dressing-room ; 
 after tea my father claimed my conversation and the 
 perusal of the Newspapers. In the heat of some interest- 
 ing pursuit, I was called down to receive the visits of 
 our idle neighbours ; their civilities required a suitable 
 return ; and I dreaded the period of the full moon, which 
 was usually reserved for our more distant excursions.] My 
 quiet was gradually disturbed by our domestic anxiety ; 
 and I should be ashamed of my unfeeling philosophy, 
 had I found much time or taste for study in the last fatal 
 summer (1770) of my father's decay and dissolution.
 
 DEATH OF GIBBON'S FATHER. 287 
 
 The disembodying of the llilitia at the close of the 
 War (1762) had restored the Major — a new Cincinnatus 
 — to a life of Agricnltnre. His labours were useful, his 
 pleasures innocent, his wishes moderate ; and my father 
 seemed to enjoy the state of happiness which is celebrated 
 by poets and philosophers as the most agreeable to 
 Nature, and the least accessible to Fortune — 
 
 " Beatus ille, qui procul uegotiis 
 (Ut prisca gens mortalinra) 
 Paterna nira bubns exercet suis, 
 Sohxtus ornni foenore." * 
 
 But the last indispensable condition, the freedom from 
 debt, was wanting to my father's felicity ; and the vanities 
 of his youth were severely punished by the solicitude 
 and sorrow of his declining age. The first mortgage, on 
 my return from Lausanne (1758), had afforded him a 
 partial and transient relief: the annual demand of 
 interest and allowance was an heavy deduction from 
 his income : the militia was a source of expence : the 
 farm in his hands was not a profitable adventure ; he 
 was loaded with the costs and damages of an obsolete 
 lawsuit ; and each year multiplied the number and 
 •exhausted the patience of his creditors. Under these 
 painful circumstances, |[my own behaviour was not only 
 guiltless but meritorious. Without stipulating any 
 personal advantages,^ I consented, [at a mature and 
 well-informed age,] to an additional mortgage, to the 
 sale of Putney, and to every sacrifice that could 
 alleviate his distress ; but he was no longer capable 
 of a rational effort, and his reluctant delays postponed, 
 not the evils themselves, but the remedies of those evils, 
 
 * Hor. Epod. ii. 1.
 
 288 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 (remedia malorum i^otlus quam mala differebat). The 
 pangs of shame, tenderness, and self-reproach incessantly 
 preyed on his vitals ; his constitution was broken ; he 
 lost his strength and his sight; the rapid progress of 
 a dropsy admonished him of his end, and he sunk into 
 the grave on the tenth of November, 1770, in the sixty- 
 fourth year of his age. A family tradition insinuates 
 that Mr. William Law has drawn his pupil in the light 
 and inconstant character of Flatus, who is ever confident 
 and ever disappointed in the chace of happiness. But 
 these constitutional failings were amply compensated 
 by the virtues of the head and heart, by the warmest 
 sentiments of honour and humanity. His graceful person, 
 polite address, gentle manners, and unaffected chearful- 
 ness, recommended him to the favour of every company ; 
 and in the change of times and opinions, his liberal spirit 
 had long since delivered him from the zeal and prejudice 
 of a Tory education. [|The tears of a son are seldom 
 lasting.] I submitted to the order of Nature, and my 
 grief was soothed by the conscious satisfaction that I 
 had discharged all the duties of filial piety. [Few, 
 perhaps, are the children who, after the expiration of 
 some months or years, would sincerely rejoyce in the 
 resurrection of their parents ; and it is a melancholy 
 truth, that my father's death, not unhappy for himself , 
 was the only event that could save me from an hopeless 
 life of obscurity and indigence.] 
 
 Section III. 
 
 As soon as I had paid the last solemn duties to my 
 father, and obtained from time and reason a tolerable 
 composure of mind, I began to form the plan of an
 
 LIFE AT BUEITON. 289 
 
 independent life most adapted to my circumstances and 
 inclination. Yet so intricate was the net, my efforts 
 were so awkward and feeble, that near two years (November, 
 1770 — October, 1772) were suffered to elapse before I 
 could disentangle myself from the management of the 
 farm, and transfer my residence from Buriton to an house 
 in London. During this interval I continued to divide 
 my year between town and the country ; but my new 
 freedom was brightened by hope : [nor could I refuse 
 the advantages of a change, which had never (I have 
 scrutinized my conscience) — which had never been the 
 object of my secret wishes. Without indulging the 
 vanity and extravagance of a thoughtless heir, I assumed 
 some additional latitude of lodging, attendance, and 
 equipage ; I no longer numbered with the same anxious 
 parsimony my dinners at the club or tavern :] my stay 
 in London was prolonged into the summer, and the uni- 
 formity of the summer was occasionally broken by visits 
 and excursions at a distance from home. QThat home, the 
 house and estate at Buriton, were now my own ; I could 
 invite without controul the persons most agreable to my 
 taste ; the horses and servants were at my disposal ; and 
 in all their operations my rustic ministers solicited the 
 commands and smiled at the ignorance of their master. 
 I will not deny that my pride was flattered by the local 
 importance of a country gentleman : the busy scene of 
 the farm, productive of seeming plenty, was embellished 
 in my eyes by the partial sentiment of property ; and, 
 still adhering to my original plan, I expected the adequate 
 offers of a tenant, and postponed without much impatience 
 the moment of my departure. My friendship for Mrs. 
 Gibbon long resisted the idea of our final separation. 
 
 u
 
 290 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 After my father's decease, she preserved the tenderness, 
 without the authority, of a parent : the family, and even 
 the farm, were entrusted to her care ; and as the habits of 
 fifteen years had attached her to the spot, she was herself 
 persuaded, and she tryed to persuade me, of the pleasures 
 and benefits of a country life. But, as I could not afford 
 to maintain a double establishment, my favourite project 
 of an house in London was incompatible with the farm at 
 Buriton, and it was soon apparent that a woman and a 
 philosopher could not direct with any prospect of advan- 
 tage such a complex and costly machine. In the second 
 summer my resolution was declared and effected; the 
 advertisement of the farm attracted many competitors ; 
 the fairest terms were preferred : the proper leases were 
 executed ; I abandoned the mansion to the principal 
 tenant, and Mrs. G., with some reluctance, departed for 
 Bath, the most fashionable azylum for the sober singleness 
 of widowhood. But the produce of the effects and stock 
 was barely sufficient to clear my accounts in the country, 
 and my first settlement in town : from the mischievous 
 extravagance of the tenant I sustained many subsequent 
 injuries ; and a change of ministry could not be accom- 
 plished without much trouble and expense. 
 
 Besides the debts for which my honour and piety were 
 engaged, my father had left a weighty mortgage of seven- 
 teen thousand pounds : it could only be discharged by a 
 landed sacrifice, and my estate at Lenborough, near Buck- 
 ingham, was the devoted victim. At first the appearances 
 were favourable; but my hopes were too sanguine, my 
 demands were too high. After slighting some offers by no 
 means contemptible, I rashly signed an agreement with a 
 worthless fellow (half knave and half madman), who, in
 
 SALE OF LENBOROUGH. 291 
 
 three years of vexatious chicanery, refused either to con- 
 summate or to relinquish his bargain. After I had 
 broken my fetters, the opportunity was lost ; the public 
 distress had reduced the value of land : I waited the 
 return of peace and prosperity ; and my last secession 
 to Lausanne preceded the sale of my Buckinghamshire 
 estate. The delay of fifteen years, which I may impute 
 to myself, my friends, and the times, was accompanied 
 with the loss of many thousand pounds. A delicious 
 morsel, a share in the Nevv river company, was cast, 
 with many a sigh, into the gulph of principal, interest, 
 and annual expence ; and the far greater part of the in- 
 adequate price of poor Lenborough was finally devoured 
 by the insatiate monster. Such remembrance is bitter ; 
 but the temper of a mind exempt from avarice suggests 
 some reasonable topics of consolation. My patrimony has 
 been diminished in the enjoyment of life.] The grati- 
 fication of my desires (they were not immoderate) has 
 teen seldom disappointed by the want of money or 
 credit ; my pride was never insulted by the visit of an 
 importunate tradesman; and any transient anxiety for 
 the past or future was soon dispelled by the studious or 
 social occupation of the present hour. My conscience 
 does not accuse me of any act of extravagance or in- 
 justice : the remnant of my estate affords an ample 
 and honourable provision for my declining age, |[and 
 my spontaneous bounty must be received with implicit 
 gratitude by the heirs of my choice.] I shall not ex- 
 patiate f more minutely] on my oeconomical affairs, which 
 cannot be instructive or amusing to the reader. It is 
 a rule of prudence, as well as of politeness, to reserve 
 such confidence for the ear of a private friend, without
 
 292 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir C. 
 
 exposing our situation to the envy or pity of strangers ; for 
 envy is productive of hatred, and pity borders too nearly 
 on contempt. Yet I may believe, and even assert, that 
 in circumstances more indigent or more wealthy, I should 
 never have accomplished the task, or acquired the fame, 
 of an historian ; that my spirit would have been broken 
 by poverty and contempt ; and that my industry might 
 have been relaxed in the labour and luxury of a super- 
 fluous fortune. [Few works of merit and importance 
 have been executed either in a garret or a palace. A 
 gentleman, possessed of leisure and independence, of 
 books and talents, may be encouraged to write by the 
 distant prospect of honour and reward ; but wretched is 
 the author, and wretched will be the work, where daily 
 diligence is stimulated by daily hunger.]
 
 MY OAVN LIFE.* 
 
 [My family is ancient and honourable in the county of 
 Kent.^ As early as the year 1326 the Gibbons, who still 
 bear the same arms as myself,^ were possessed of lands in 
 the parish of Rolvenden,^ and their successive alliances 
 connect them with many worthy names of the English 
 
 1 I have obtained much domestic information from an English 
 treatise of Heraldry (with a Latin title), composed by John Gibbon, 
 Blue-mantle Poursiiivant, and the brother, as I believe, of my great- 
 grandfather Matthew — Introdudio ad Latinam Blazoniam, London, 
 1682, in 12mo. The author of this odd and even original work is 
 deeply tinctured with the prejudices of his age and his art. After 
 observing the colours and symbols on the painted bodies of the 
 Indians of Virginia, he logically concludes that " Heraldry is mgrafted 
 naturally into the sense of human race " (p. 156). I wish to insert his 
 diahoUcal scutcheon for the Whigs (p. 165). The Gibbons were 
 high Tories. 
 
 ^ A Lyon, rampant, gardant, between three Schallops. Blue-mantle 
 tells a whimsical story of Edmond Gibbon, who changed the three 
 schallops of his arms into three ogresses, or female monsters, the 
 emblems of three cousins with whom he had a law-suit (p. 161). 
 
 3 " Nedum mentionem sum facturus " (he modestly talks Latin) 
 "Gibbonos terras tenuisse et possedisse in Rolvenden, anno 1326." 
 Fourteen years afterwards, King Edward IH, granted to his 3I(jr- 
 morarius, John Gibbon, the profits of the passage between Sandwich 
 and the isle of Thanet, the reward of no vulgar architect. He is 
 supposed to have built Queensborough Castle (p. 160). 
 
 * Memoir E ; from the early The numbered notes to this Memoir 
 Iiistory of the family to July, 1789. are Gibbon's own.
 
 294 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 gentry.^ About the beginning of the last century, a 
 younger branch ajjpears to have migrated from the 
 country to the city. My grandfather, Edward Gibbon, 
 was Commissioner of the Customs (1710-1714), and a 
 Director of the South Sea Company. In the calamitous 
 year twenty, he was stripped of his apparent fortime 
 (£106,543 5s. Gd.) by an arbitrary vote of the house of 
 commons, which reduced him to an allowance of ten 
 thousand pounds ; ^ yet such were his dexterity and 
 diligence, that he died, sixteen years afterwards, in very 
 affluent circumstances. My father, Edward Gibbon (born 
 in 1707), enjoyed the advantages of education and travel, 
 and successively represented in Parliament the borough 
 of Petersfield (1734) and the town of Southampton 
 (1740). In the opposition to Sir Kobert Walpole and the 
 Pelhams he was connected with the Tories — shall I say 
 the Jacobites ? With them he gave many a vote, with 
 them he drank many a bottle. But the prejudices of youth 
 were gradually corrected by time, temper, and good sense. 
 
 ^ See the Introductio ad Blazoniam, pp, 157-160. Our most 
 respectable ancestor in the female line is Lord Say and Seale, Lord 
 High Treasm-er of England in the reign of Henry VI. According to 
 Shakespeare, he may be considered as a martyr of Litteratm-e. My 
 grandfather was allied by his wife and sister to the Actons of Shrop- 
 shire, who now claim the Minister of the Sicilian Monarchy. 
 
 5 See the whole course of these iniquitous proceedings in Rapin 
 and Tindal's History of England (vol. iv. pt. ii. pp. 629-644, folio 
 Edition). The offence of the South Sea Directors was not defined in 
 law ; their guilt was not proved, in fact : they were refused the common 
 right of being heard by their council against a bill of pains and penal- 
 ties, and their fate was decided by hasty and passionate votes on the 
 character and fortune of each individual. It may be added, as a last 
 aggravation, that the legal existence of the I'arliament which con- 
 demned them is extremely questionable.
 
 EAKLY ILLNESSES. 295 
 
 I was born at his house at Putney, in Surry, the a.d. 
 
 . . 1737. 
 
 eldest child of his marriage, a marriage of inclination, April 27, 
 
 with Judith Porten. My five brothers and my sister all ^^y 'g^ 
 died in their infancy, and the premature decease of my ^•^• 
 mother (1746) left her fond husband a disconsolate 
 widower.^ Some years afterwards (1755) he was married 
 to his second wife, Mrs. Dorothea Patten, whose tender 
 friendship has often made me forget that I had scarcely 
 known the blessing of a mother. 
 
 From my birth to the age of fifteen, my puny con- a.d. 
 stitution was afflicted with almost every species of disease 1752. 
 and weakness ; and I owe my life to the maternal tender- 
 ness of my aunt, Mrs. Catherine Porten, at whose name 
 I feel a tear of gratitude trickling down my cheek. My 
 first domestic tutor was Mr, John Kirkby, the author of 
 an English Grammar and the Philosophical Komance of 
 Automathes.' But my progress at Kingston and West- 
 
 6 In an agi-eable little poem, in which Mr. Mallet invites some 
 friends to the anniversary of his wedding-day, my father is thus 
 introduced — 
 
 " But first a pensive love forlorn, 
 Who three long weeping years has borne 
 His torch revers'd, and all around, 
 Where once it flam'd with Cypress bound, 
 Sent off to call a neighbouring friend, 
 On whom the mournful train attend ; 
 And bid him, tj^iis one day at least. 
 For such a pair, at such a feast, 
 Strip off the sable vest, and wear 
 His once gay look and happier air." 
 "^ A self-taught Youth who discovers Religion and Science in a 
 desert island, is indeed a Romance. The characters of a Philosopher 
 and a Bigot are blended in my old tutor ; but the story of Automathes 
 (London, 1745, in 12mo) is agreably told. The original idea is 
 borrowed, however, from the life of Hai Ebn Yokdhan, composed in
 
 296 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoik E. 
 
 minster Schools was too often interrupted by my returns 
 of illness ; and the want of public discipline was imper- 
 fectly supplied by private instruction. It is fashionable 
 for the man to envy and regret the happiness of the hot/, 
 but I never could understand the happiness of servitude ; ^ 
 and my want of agility and strength disqualified me for 
 the joyous play of my equals. The long hours of con- 
 finement to my chamber or my couch were soothed, 
 however, by an early and eager love of reading. Some 
 books of fiction. Pope's Homer and the Arabian Nights, 
 were the first food of my mind ; but I soon began to 
 devour, with indiscriminate appetite, the history, chrono- 
 logy, and geography of the ancient and modern world. 
 x.D. At an unripe age I was matriculated as a Grentleman- 
 
 1752 
 
 Aprils, commoner at ]\Iagdalen College, in the University of 
 
 Oxford, where I lost fourteen valuable months of my 
 
 youth. The reader will ascribe this loss to my own 
 
 incapacity, or to the vices of that ancient institution.^ 
 
 A.D. Without a master or a guide, I unfortunately stumbled 
 
 March ^^ some books of Popish controversy ; nor is it a matter 
 of reproach that a boy should have believed that he 
 
 the twelfth century by Abu Jaafar Ebn Tophail, and translated from 
 Arabic into Latin by Dr. Pocock (Oxon, 1700, in 4to, secunda edit.). 
 There is a very good abstract in the Bibliotheque Universelle (torn. iii. 
 pp. 76-98) of Le Clerc. 
 
 ^ A similar opinion is ascribed by d'AIembert (Eloges des Acade- 
 micians, torn, iii. p. 24) to Boileau, who had suffered, indeed, many 
 hardships in his childhood and youth. The life of a schoolboy is by 
 no means exempt from care or passion, and he is yet unripe for the 
 highest enjoyments of the mind and body. 
 
 ^ The revenues, monopoly, and idleness of these Ecclesiastical 
 corporations are justly censured by Dr. Adam Smith (Riches of 
 Nations, vol. ii. pp. 340-374), who affirms that most of the professors 
 of Oxford have given up even the pretence of pubhc teaching.
 
 FIRST VISIT TO LAUSANNE. 297 
 
 believed, etc. I was seduced like Chillingworth and 
 
 Bayle,^'' and, like tliem, my growing reason soon broke 
 
 through the toils of sophistry and superstition. 
 
 Most fortunately my father was persuaded to fix my 1753. 
 
 -r . o . 1 1 1 June 19- 
 
 exile and education at Lausanne, m Switzerland, under 30. 
 
 the care of Mr. Pavillard, a Calvinist Minister. I would 
 praise his virtue above his learning, his learning above 
 his genius : yet a pupil might imbibe from his lessons 
 the love, the method, and the rudiments of science, and 
 I shall always esteem that worthy man as the first father 
 of my mind. 
 
 At the end of five years I was recalled home — of five 1758. 
 years which my voluntary and rational diligence had jyi^y 4. 
 profitably employed. It was at Lausanne that I acquired 
 the perfect knowledge and use of the French language ; 
 that I read almost all the Latin Classics in prose and 
 verse ; that I made some progress in Greek litterature ; 
 and that I finished a regular course of Philosophy and 
 Mathematics. It was there that my taste and reason 
 were expanded ; that I formed the habits of being pleased 
 (I will not say of pleasing) in good company ; and that 
 I eradicated the prejudices which would have ripened in 
 the Atmosphere of an English Cloyster. A tour of Swit- 
 zerland enlarged my views of Nature and man : I en- 
 joyed the singular amusement of seeing Voltaire an actor 
 
 '0 When these masters of argument were seduced by Popery, the 
 Frenchman was near twenty- two, the J-Cnglishman above twenty-eight 
 years of age. In their retrograde motion, the logic of Chillingworth 
 jiansed on the last verge of Christianity ; the genius of Bayle pervaded 
 the boundless regions of Scepticism. See the article Chillingworth 
 in the third Volume of the new P^dition of the Biographia Britannica; 
 and Vic de Pierre Bayle, by Mr. dcs Maizeaux, in the first volume 
 of the Dictionary.
 
 298 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 in his own tragedies ; ^^ and, before the age of twenty, I 
 solicited and sustained a learned correspondence with 
 several professors in foreign universities.^" I should 
 blush if the season of youth had passed away without 
 love or friendship. My connection with Mr. George 
 Dey verdun, a young gentleman of Lausanne, has been ter- 
 minated only by the death of my friend. A lover's wishes 
 reluctantly yielded to filial duty;^^ time and absence 
 produced their effect ; but my choice has been justified by 
 
 the virtues of Mademoiselle C (now Madame N ) 
 
 in the most humble and the most splendid fortune. 
 
 " Voltaire had lately escaped from the dangers of Eoyal friend- 
 ship, and noAV began, at the age of threescore, to enjoy his freedom 
 and fortune. His letters, dated from Lausanne, repeatedly praise, in 
 1757 and 1758, the country, the people, his audience, his actors, etc. 
 (Correspondance generale, torn. iv. pp. 396, 408, 410, 414, 419, 
 421-424, 429, 430, 431, 439 ; torn. v. pp. 6, 9, 15, 16, 19, 21-23, 26, 
 34; Edition de Beaumarchais). 
 
 ^2 Crevier of Paris, Gesner of Gottiugen, and Breitinger of Zurich 
 are known as Authors or Editors. But the most valuable of my corre- 
 spondents was Mr. Allamand of Bex, whose learning and philosophy 
 were buried in a Swiss village. 
 
 '^ See ffiuvi'es de Rousseau, tom. xxxiii. pp. 88, 89, octavo 
 Edition. As an author, I shall not appeal from the judgement, or taste, 
 or caprice of Jean Jacques ; but that extraordinaiy man, whom I 
 admire and pity, should have been less precipitate in condemnmg the 
 moral character and conduct of a stranger.* 
 
 * « Lettre a Mr. M[oumu. °'e«* P^« digne d'elle ; mais qui I'a 
 
 pu sentir, & a en detacne, est un 
 
 " A Metiers, le 4 Juiii 17G3. homme a me'priser. Elle ne salt 
 
 " Vous me donnez pour Mile. ce qu'elle veut, cat homme la sert 
 
 C une commission dont je mieux que son propre coour. J'aime 
 
 m'acquitterai mal, pre'cise'ment k cent fois mieux qu'il la laisse 
 
 cause de mon estime pour elle. pauvre & libre au milieu du vous, 
 
 Le refroidissement de M. G que de I'emmeneretre malheureuse 
 
 me fait mal penser de lui ; j'ai & riche en Augkterre. En ve'rite 
 
 revu son livre; il y court apres je souhaite que M. G ne 
 
 I'esprit, il s'y guinde: ^1. G vienne pas. Je voudrois me de- 
 
 n'est point mon homme ; je ne puis guiser, mais je ne saurois, je 
 
 croire qu'il soit celui do Mile. vouiirois bien f'aire, & je sens que 
 
 C qui ne sent pas son prix, je gatfrai tout."
 
 THE MILITIA. 299 
 
 On my return home I was indiilo;ed with a decent 1758. 
 
 •' " May 4 
 
 allowance of money and liberty ; and the two following i760. 
 years were unequally divided between a short visit to 
 London, and a long calm residence in my father's house 
 at Buriton, near Peterslield, in Hampshire. For rural 
 sports and agriculture I had no taste ; and all the hours 
 that I could steal from family duties were deliciously 
 passed in a library, which soon became my own. By prac- 
 tise and study I recovered the purity of my native tongue ; 
 and the English, Greek, and Latin Classics were the best 
 companions of my solitude. My pen was seldom idle, and 
 I began to write for the public eye as well as for my own. 
 
 From these studies I was called away by the sound i760. 
 of the militia drum, by the embodying of the South 1752, 
 Battalion of the Hampshire, in which I had rashly ^^^- ^^' 
 accepted a Captain's commission, and in which I was 
 afterwards promoted to the rank of Major and Lieutenant 
 Colonel-Commandant. At the first outset I was dazzled 
 and fired by the play of arms, the exercise, the march, 
 and the camp, and my present acquaintance will smile 
 when I assure them that I was once a very tolerable 
 officer. I read Homer in my tent, I compared the theory 
 of ancient svith the practise of modern tactics ; and the 
 Captain of Grenadiers (they may again smile) has not 
 been useless to the historian of the Eoman Empire. By 
 degrees our mimic Bellona unveiled her naked deformity, 
 and before our final dissolution I had long sighed for 
 my release.^* 
 
 " In an old pocket-book of the time I find the satirical lines of 
 Dryden, which thus conclude — 
 
 " Of seeming arms they make a short essay ; 
 Then hasten to be drunk — the business of the day."
 
 300 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik E. 
 
 1761. In the midst of this military life, I published my 
 
 June. . ^ . * . 
 
 Essai sur Vetude de la Litterature, which was extorted 
 
 from me by my father's authority, and the advice of Dr. 
 
 Maty 1^ and Mr. Mallet,^^ ^fter it had slept two or three 
 
 years in my desk. The vanity of being the first English 
 
 author in the French language ^'^ might perhaps be 
 
 excused ; but, in sober truth, I wrote, as I thought, in 
 
 the most familiar idiom. The journals of Paris ^^ and 
 
 Holland have praised the style and spirit, the learning 
 
 and judgement, of this juvenile performance, with which, 
 
 at the distance of thirty years, I am not absolutely 
 
 displeased. But in England my Essay was slowly 
 
 In the qualifications of dexterity and discipline our embodied regiments 
 were far superior to the old militia. But the exercise of the field 
 was still succeeded by that of the bottle, and the habit of intemperance 
 too long survived my discharge from the service. 
 
 ^^ The eighteen volumes of tlie Journal Britannique, which he 
 sustained six years (1750-1755), almost alone had displayed the 
 moderation and taste of Dr. Maty. A flattering epistle which he 
 prefixed to my Essay is so cautiously worded, that, in case of a defeat, 
 he might have excused his indulgence to a young English gentleman. 
 
 i" The author of a Life of Bacon (which has been rated above 
 its value), of some forgotten poems and plays, and of the pathetic 
 ballad of William and Margaret. An enemy, and a stern enemy (John- 
 son's Lives of the Poets), acknowledges that Mallet's conversation 
 was elegant and easy. 
 
 1^ The French letters of Sir William Temple, Lord Bolingbroke, 
 Lord Chesterfield, etc., were not composed for the public. The 
 writings of the Chevalier Ramsay and Count Hamilton may form 
 an exception ; but the latter, who is indeed a model of original style, 
 had been educated from his infancy in France. 
 
 ^* The copious extracts which were given in the Journal 
 Etrancjer by Mr. Suard, a judicious critic, must satisfy both tlie 
 author and the public. I may here observe that I have never seen, 
 in any literary review, a tolerable account of my History. The 
 manufacture of Journals, at least on the Continent, is miserably 
 debased.
 
 PARIS. 301 
 
 circulated, little read, and soon forgotten ; till the fame of 
 the historian enhanced the price of the remaining copies, 
 which I refused to multiply by a new edition. After this 
 first experiment, I meditated some historical composition. 
 Many subjects were examined and rejected : an history of 
 the freedom and victories of the Swiss was the theme on 
 which I dwelt with the longest pleasure, and which I 
 abandoned with the most reluctance.-^^ 
 
 The hour of peace and national triumph was pro- 1763. 
 pitious to my design of visiting the continent. The arts May. 
 and public buildings, the libraries and theatres of Paris, 
 might have occupied more than four months the curiosity 
 of a stranger. But the favourable reception of my Essay, 
 and some weighty recommendations, introduced me into 
 the societies of Helvetius, of the Baron d'Holbach, of 
 Mr. de Foncemagne, of Madame Geoffrin, and of Madame 
 du Bocage. At these elegant Symposia, to which I was 
 wellcome, without invitation, almost every day of the week, 
 I saw and heard the most eminent of the wits, scholars, 
 and philosophers of France ; and it was amusing, as well 
 as instructive, to compare the writings with the characters 
 of the men. 
 
 In my second voluntary visit I was received at ives. 
 Lausanne as a native, who, after a long absence, returns i^q^ 
 to his friends, his family, and his country. The simple ^P"^- 
 charms of Nature and society detained me at the foot 
 of the Alps till the ensuing spring ; and I justified my 
 
 ^^ By the assistance of Mr. Deyverdun I obtained many extracts 
 and translations from the German originals of Tscliudi, Stetler, Schilling, 
 Lauffer, Leu, etc. ; but I soon found, on a tryal, that these materials were 
 insufficient. An historian should command the language, the libraries, 
 and the archives of the country of which ho presumes to write.
 
 302 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 delay by the useful study of the Italian and Koman 
 antiquities. 
 
 1764. The pilgrimage of Italy, which I now accomplished, 
 
 1765. had long been the object of my curious devotion. The 
 passage of Mount Cenis, the regular streets of Turin, the 
 Gothic cathedral of Milan, the scenery of the Boromean 
 Islands, the marble palaces of Genoa, the beauties of 
 Florence, the wonders of Kome, the curiosities of Naples, 
 the galleries of Bologna, the singular aspect of Venice, 
 the amphitheatre of Verona, and the Palladian archi- 
 tecture of Vicenza, are still present to my imagination. 
 I read the Tuscan writers on the banks of the Arno ; but 
 my conversation was with the dead rather than the 
 living, and the whole college of Cardinals was of less 
 value in my eyes than the transfiguration of Raphael, 
 the Apollo of the Vatican, or the massy greatness of the 
 Coliseum. It was at Rome, on the fifteenth of October, 
 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, 
 while the barefooted fryars were singing Vespers in the 
 temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline 
 and fall of the City first started to my mind. After 
 Rome has kindled and satisfied the enthusiasm of the 
 Classic pilgrim, his curiosity for all meaner objects 
 insensibly subsides. My father was impatient, and I 
 returned home by the way of Lyons and Paris, enriched 
 with a new stock of images and ideas, which I could 
 never have acquired in the solitude of the Closet. 
 
 1765. xifter this various and delightfull excm-sion, I again 
 
 1770. settled, in the dull division of my English year, between 
 
 November, j^qj^^i^qj^ ^j^j Buriton. But in the militia I had been used 
 
 to command, in my travels I was free from controul. The 
 most gentle authority will sometimes frown without
 
 STUDY OF ROMAN HISTORY. 303 
 
 reason, the most chearfiil obedience will sometimes 
 murmur without cause ; and, at the age of thirty, I felt 
 the natural wish of being master in my own house. The 
 love of study secured me against the tediousness of an 
 idle life, but I sometimes regretted that I had not con- 
 sulted my interest and independence by the timely choice 
 of a lucrative profession. 
 
 The greatest part of the seven years which elapsed 1765- 
 after my return home was seriously employed in pre- 
 paring the materials of my Eoman history, of whose 
 nature and extent at first I had a very inadequate idea. 
 i. From the Augustan age to the fall of the western 
 Empire, I studied, almost always with my pen in my 
 hand, the original records, both Greek and Latin, both 
 Ecclesiastical and profane. I have never denied or dis- 
 sembled my obligations to modern glasses, more especially 
 to the incomparable microscope of Tillemont ; but as it 
 was my privilege to think with my own reason, so it was 
 my duty to see with my own eyes. ii. In the Italian 
 history of the middle ages, Muratori and Pagi, Sigonius 
 and Maffei, were my faithful and assiduous guides ; and 
 I grasped the ruins of Rome in the fourteenth century, 
 without suspecting that the distant object would fly 
 before me to the end of a sixth quarto. 
 
 Yet in the progress of my work I was often diverted 
 by the amusements of the World, and the avocations of 
 old and new books ; of the ancient Classics of Greece 
 and Rome, of the annual publications of France and 
 England. During this period I twice gave my thoughts, 
 without giving my name, to the public. I joyned with 
 my friend Mr. Deyverdun, who resided several years 
 in England : we published two volumes of a litterary
 
 304 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoir E. 
 
 Journal or review, Memoires Litter aires de la Grande 
 Bretagne, for the years 1767 and 1768 ; but in this social 
 work I am not ambitious of ascertaining my peculiar 
 property. In the year 1770 I sent to the press some 
 Critical Observations on the Sixth Booh of the Mneid. This 
 anonymous pamphlet was pointed against Bishop War- 
 burton, who demonstrates that the descent of ^neas 
 to the shades is an Allegory of his initiation to the 
 Eleusinian mysteries. The love of Virgil, the hatred 
 of a Dictator,-'^ and the example of Lowth,^^ awakened 
 
 20 Our litterary Sj'lla was encompassed with a guard of flatterers 
 and slaves ready to execute every sentence of proscription which 
 his arrogance had pronounced. The assassination of Jortin by Dr. 
 Hurd, now Bishop of Worcester (see the Delicacy of Friendship), is 
 a base and malignant act, which cannot be crazed by time or expiated 
 by secret pennance.* 
 
 2* See a letter from a late Professor in the University of Oxford 
 (1766, foui-th Edition). The public adjudged the prize to the chaste 
 and temperate spirit of Dr. Lowth (since Bishop of London), who had 
 been furiously attacked by Warburton and his bloodhounds. As long 
 as the dispute is connected with the taste and knowledge of Hebrew 
 poetry, the Oxford professor fights on his own gi-ound. But his 
 argument is often weak ; and how can it be strong, when he pleads 
 the cause of bigotry and persecution ?t 
 
 * Dr. John Jortin, in 1755, in a and Dr. Warburton on the use 
 
 (Wisexi&iion Ontlte State of the Dead made of the Book of Job iu aup- 
 
 as described by Homer and Virgil, port of a chronological argument 
 
 had strongly opposed the theory of in the lectures. The dispute was 
 
 Warburton mentioned in the text, apparently at an end, till War- 
 
 and was thereupon attacked with burton, in 17G5, renewed the 
 
 considerable severity by Hurd in attack in the sixth book of his 
 
 liis treatise (Jn the Delicacy of Divine Legation, and. v/as ans^eTed 
 
 Friendship, a Seventh Dissertation, by Lowth in his Letter to the Author 
 
 addressed to the Author of the Sixth. of the Divine Legation, which is 
 
 Hurd again took up the cudgels on described by Gibbon as "a pointed 
 
 l.ehalf of his patron, Warburton, in and polished epistle." 
 
 17G4, when his Doctrine of Grace "This letter of Lowth's is a 
 
 was controverted by Dr. Thomas masterpiece of its kind, and if our 
 
 Leland. calmer judgment is oflended by the 
 
 t In 1741 Eobert Lowth, when unseemly spectacle of two Christian 
 
 Professor of Poetry at Oxford, de- prelates engaged in this tierce 
 
 livered a series of Lectures on gladiatorism, the chief blame muat 
 
 Hebrew Poetry. In 175G some con- fall on the aggressor, Warburton." 
 
 troversy took place between him — Milman.
 
 CONTROVERSY WITH WARBURTON. 
 
 305 
 
 me to arms. The coldness of the public has been am ply- 
 compensated by the esteem of Heyne,^^ of Hayley,^ and 
 of Parr ; ^* but the acrimony of my style has been justly 
 blamed by the Professor of Gottingen. Warburton ^^ was 
 not an object of contempt. 
 
 22 That incomparable scholar, who, after so many hundred editions 
 has enriched the world with the first edition of Virgil, declines the 
 examination of Warburton's hypothesis, " Otium fecit vir doctus, qui 
 earn in singular! libello paullo acrius quam velis perstrinxit " (Virgilii 
 Opera, torn. ii. p. 804, Lipsise, 1787). He afterwards (p. 821) approves 
 a conjecture, " elegantissimi Britanni," etc. 
 
 -2 " At length a superior but anonymous critic arose, who, in one 
 of the most judicious and spirited essay's which our nation has 
 produced on a point of classical literature, compleatly overturned this 
 ill-founded edifice, etc." (Hayley's Works, vol. iii. p. 152, etc.). He 
 then transcribes several passages, from an idea that the circulation of 
 the pamphlet had not been equal to its merit. 
 
 2* The editor of the Warburtonian Tracts (p. 192) considers the 
 Allegorical interpretation " as completely refuted in a most clear, 
 elegant, and decisive work of criticism, which could not indeed derive 
 authority from the gi'eatest name, but to which the greatest name 
 might with propriety have been affixed." 
 
 25 The Divine Legation of Moses * is a monument, already 
 crumbling into dust, of the vigour and weakness of the human mind. 
 If Warburton's new argument proved any thing, it would be a demon- 
 stration against the Legislator, who left his people without the knowledge 
 of a future state. But some episodes of the work on the Greek 
 philosophy, the Hieroglyphics of Egypt, etc., are entitled to the praise 
 of learning, imagination, and discernment. 
 
 * The Divine Legation of Moses 
 Demonstrated, on the Principles of 
 a Religious Deist, from the Omission 
 of the Doctrine of a Future State of 
 Rewards and Punishments in the 
 Jewish Dispensation, bks. 1-3, 1738 ; 
 bks. 4-0, 1741 ; bk. 9, 1788. 
 
 " That the doctrine of a future 
 state of reward and punishment 
 was omitted in the Book of Moses 
 had been insolently urged by infi- 
 dels against the truth of liis mission, 
 while divines were feebly occupied 
 
 in seeking what was certainly not 
 to be found there, otherwise than 
 by inference or implication. But 
 Warburton, with an intrepidity un- 
 heard of before, threw open the 
 gates of his camp, admitted the 
 host of his enemy within his works, 
 and beat them on a ground which 
 was now become both his and 
 theirs. In short, he admitted the 
 proposition in its fullest extent, and 
 proceeded to demonstrate from tliat 
 very omission, which in all instances
 
 306 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 1770. At the time of my father's decease I was upwards 
 
 ^^" • of thirty-three years of age, the ordinary term of an 
 human generation. My grief was sincere for the loss 
 of an affectionate parent, an agreeable companion, and a 
 worthy man. But the ample fortune which my grand- 
 father had left was deeply impaired, and would have 
 been gradually consumed by the easy and generous 
 nature of his son.^^ I revere the memory of my father, 
 his errors I forgive, nor can I repent of the important 
 sacrifices which were chearfully offered by filial piety. 
 Domestic command, the free distribution of time and 
 place, and a more liberal measure of expence, were the 
 
 1772. immediate consequences of my new situation; but two 
 Octo er. jQQj.^ rolled away before I could disentangle myself from 
 
 the web of rural oeconomy, and adopt a mode of life 
 agreeable to my wishes. From Buriton Mrs. Gibbon 
 withdrew to Bath ; while I removed myself and my books 
 into my new house in Bentinck Street, Cavendish Square, 
 in which I continued to reside near eleven years. The 
 clear untainted remains of my patrimony have been 
 always sufficient to support the rank of a Gentleman, and 
 to satisfy the desires of a philosopher.] 
 
 1773. I had now attained []the solid comforts of life — a 
 
 *n83^~ convenient well-furnished house, a domestic table, half 
 September. . 
 
 26 In his Hampshire retirement, my father might seem to enjoy 
 the state of primitive happiness — " Beatus ille qui procul negotiis, etc." 
 But, alas ! he was not " solutus onini foenore," and Avithout such 
 freedom there can he no content. 
 
 of legislation, merely human, had people to whom it was given must 
 
 been industriously avoided, that a have been placed under His imme- 
 
 system wliich coidd dispense witli mediate superintendence." — Dr. 
 
 such a doctrine, tlie very bond and Whittaker, in Quarterly Review, vii. 
 
 cement of human society, must 398. 
 have come from God, and that the
 
 LIFE IN LONDON. 307 
 
 a dozen chosen servants, my own carriage, and all those 
 decent luxuries whose value is the more sensibly felt 
 the longer they are enjoyed. These advantages were 
 crowned by] the first of earthly blessings, independence. 
 I was the absolute master of my hours and actions ; nor 
 was I deceived in the hope that the establishment of 
 my library in town would allow me to divide the day 
 between study and society. Each year the circle of my 
 acquaintance, the number of my dead and living com- 
 panions, was enlarged. To a lover of books the shops 
 and sales in London present irresistible temptations, and 
 the manufacture of my history required a various and 
 growing stock of materials. The Militia, my travels, the 
 House of Commons, the fame of an author, contributed 
 to multiply my connections. I was chosen a member 
 of the fashionable clubs ; ^'^ and before I left England 
 there were few persons of any eminence in the litterary 
 or political World to whom I was a stranger.^^ By my 
 own choice I passed in town the greatest part of the 
 
 ^ From the mixed, though polite, company of Boodle's, White's 
 and Brooks's, I must honourably distinguish a weekly society which 
 was instituted in the year 1764, and which still continues to flourish 
 under the title of the Literary Club (Hawkins's life of Johnson, 
 p. 415 ; Boswell's Tour to the Hebrides, p. 97). The names of 
 Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Goldsmith, Sir Joshua 
 Eeynolds, Mr. Colman, Sir William Jones, Dr. Percy, Mr. Fox, 
 Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Adam Smith. Mr. Steevens, Mr. Dunning, Sir 
 Joseph Banks, Dr. Warton, and his brother, Mr. Thomas Warton, 
 Dr. Burney, etc., form a large and luminous constellation of British 
 stars. 
 
 ^ It would most assuredly be in my power to amuse the reader 
 with a gallerjf of portraits and a collection of anecdotes ; but I liave 
 always condemned the practise of transforming a private memorial 
 into a vehicle of satire and praise.
 
 308 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik E. 
 
 year ; but whenever I was desirous of breathing the air 
 of the Country, I possessed an hospitable retreat at 
 Sheffield Place, in Sussex, in the family of Mr. Holroyd, 
 a valuable friend, whose character, under the name of 
 Lord Sheffield, has since been more conspicuous to the 
 public. 
 1773. No sooner was I settled in my house and library than 
 
 etc. * ' I undertook the composition of the first Volume of my 
 history. At the outset all was dark and doubtful — even 
 the title of the work, the true sera of the decline and 
 fall of the Empire, the limits of the Introduction, the 
 division of the chapters, and the order of the narrative ; 
 and I was often tempted to cast away the labour of seven 
 years. The style of an author should be the image 
 of his mind, but the choice and command of language 
 is the fruit of exercise ; many experiments were made 
 before I could hit the middle tone between a dull 
 Chronicle and a Ehetorical declamation ; three times did 
 I compose the first chapter, and twice the second and 
 third, before I was tolerably satisfied with their effect. 
 In the remainder of the way I advanced with a more 
 equal and easy pace ; but the fifteenth and sixteenth 
 Chapters have been reduced, by three successive revisals, 
 from a large Volume to their present size, and they 
 might still be compressed without any loss of facts or 
 sentiments. An opposite fault may be imputed to the 
 concise and superficial narrative of the first reigns from 
 Commodus to Alexander, a fault of which I have never 
 heard except from Mr. Hume in his last journey to 
 London. Such an oracle mirrht have been consulted and 
 obeyed with rational devotion ; but I was soon disgusted 
 with the modest practise of reading the manuscript to my
 
 MEMBER OF PARLIAMENT. 309 
 
 friends. Of such friends some will praise from politeness, 
 and some will criticise from vanity. The author himself 
 is the best Judge of his own performances ; none has 
 so deeply meditated on the subject, none is so sincerely 
 interested in the event. 
 
 By the friendship of Mr. (now Lord) Eliot, who had 1774. 
 married my first cousin,^ I was returned at the general ber. 
 election for the borough of Leskeard. I took my seat 
 at the beginning of the memorable contest between 
 
 ^ Catherine Ellistou, whose mother, Catherine Gibbon, was mj' 
 grandfather's second daughter. The education of Lady Eliot, a rich 
 heiress, had been entrusted to the Mallets ; and she is thus invited 
 to their IlymentEal feast. 
 
 " Last comes a virgin — Pray admire her ! 
 Cupid himself attends to squire her : 
 A welcome guest ! we much had mist her ; 
 For 'tis our Kitty, or his sister. 
 But, Cupid, let no knave or fool 
 Snap up this lamb to shear her wool ; 
 No Teague of that unblushing band, 
 Just landed, or about to land ; 
 Thieves from the womb, and train'd at nurse 
 To steal an heiress, or a purse. 
 No scraping, saving, saucy cit, 
 Sworn foe of breeding, worth, and wit ; 
 No half-form'd insect of a peer, 
 With neither land nor conscience clear, 
 Who, if he can, 'tis all he can do, 
 Just spell the motto on his Landau. 
 From all, from each of these defend her, 
 But thou and Hymen both befriend her, 
 With truth, taste, honour in a mate. 
 And much good sense, and some estate." 
 
 Tlie poet's wishes were soon accomplished, by her marriage with 
 Mr. Eliot, of Port Eliot, in Cornwall. In the year 1784 he was raised 
 to the honour of an Knglish peerage, and their three sons are all 
 Members of the house of Commons.
 
 310 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 Great Britain and America ; and supported, with many 
 a sincere and silent vote, the rights, though not perhaps 
 the interests, of the mother-country. After a fleeting 
 illusive hope, prudence condemned me to acquiesce in 
 the humble station of a mute. I was not armed by 
 Nature or education with the intrepid energy of mind and 
 
 voice — 
 
 " Vincentem strepitus, et natum rebus agendis." 
 
 timidity was fortified by pride, and even the success 
 of my pen discouraged the tryal of my voice. But I 
 assisted at the debates of a free assembly, [which agitated 
 the most important questions, of peace and war, of Justice 
 and Policy :] I listened to the attack and defence of 
 eloquence and reason ; I had a near prospect of the 
 characters, views, and passions of the first men of the 
 age. The eight sessions that I sat in Parliament were 
 a school of civil j^rudence, the first and most essential 
 virtue of an historian. 
 1775. The volume of my history, which had been somewhat 
 
 delayed by the novelty and tumult of a first session, was 
 now ready for the press. After the perilous adventure 
 had been declined by my timid friend Mr. Elmsley, I 
 agreed, on very easy terms, with Mr. Thomas Cadell, a 
 respectable bookseller, aud Mr. William Strahan, an 
 eminent printer; and they undertook the care and risk 
 of the publication, which derived more credit from the 
 name of the shop than from that of the author. The 
 last revisal of the proofs was submitted to my vigilance ; 
 and many blemishes of style, which had been invisible 
 in the manuscript, were discovered and corrected in the 
 printed sheet. So moderate were our hopes, that the 
 original impression had been stinted to five hundred, till
 
 PUBLICATION OF VOL. I. 311 
 
 the number was doubled by the prophetic taste of Mr. 
 Strahan. During this awful interval I was neither elated 
 by the ambition of fame, nor depressed by the appre- 
 hension of contempt. My diligence and accuracy were 
 attested by my own conscience. History is the most 
 popular species of writing, since it can adapt itself to 
 the highest or the lowest capacity. I had chosen an 
 illustrious subject ; Eome is familiar to the schoolboy 
 and the statesman, and my narrative was deduced from 
 the last period of Classical reading. I had likewise 
 flattered myself that an age of light and liberty would 
 receive, without scandal, an enquiry into the human causes 
 of the progress and establishment of Christianity. 
 
 I am at a loss how to describe the success of the work 1776. 
 without betraying the vanity of the writer. The first ^ ^^^ 
 impression was exhausted in a few days ; a second and 
 third edition were scarcely adequate to the demand, and 
 the bookseller's property was twice invaded by the 
 pyrates of Dublin. My book was on every table, and 
 almost on every toilette; the historian was crowned by 
 the taste or fashion of the day ; nor was the general voice 
 disturbed by the barking of any profane critic. The 
 favour of mankind is most freely bestowed on a new 
 acquaintance of any original merit, and the mutual sur- 
 prize of the public and their favourite is productive of 
 those warm sensibilities which, at a second meeting, can 
 no longer be rekindled. If I listened to the music of 
 praise, I was more seriously satisfied with the approbation 
 of my Judges. The candour of Dr. Kobertson embraced 
 his disciple; a letter from Mr. Hume^" overpaid the 
 
 '•^^ That curious and original letter will amuse the reader; and his
 
 312 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRABHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 labour of ten years ; but I bave never presumed to accept 
 a place in tbe triumvirate of Britisb bistorians. 
 1777. My second excursion to Paris was determined by tbe 
 
 May— ^ •' 
 
 November. 
 
 gratitude should shield my free communication from the reproach of 
 vanity. 
 
 « Edinburgh, 18th of March, 1776. 
 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 " As I ran through your Volume of History with great 
 avidity and impatience, I cannot forbear discovering somewhat of the 
 same impatience in returning you thanks for your agi-eeable present, 
 and expressing the satisfaction which the performance has given me. 
 Whether I consider the dignity of your style, the depth of your matter, 
 or the extensiveness of your learning, I must regard the work as 
 equally the object of esteem, and I own that, if I had not prseviously 
 had the happiness of your personal acquaintance, such a performance 
 from an Englishman in our age would have given me some surprize. 
 You may smile at this sentiment ; but as it seems to me that your 
 countrymen, for almost a whole generation, have given themselves up 
 to barbarous and absurd faction, and have totally neglected all polite 
 letters, I no longer expected any valuable production ever to come 
 from them. I know it will give you pleasure (as it did me) to find 
 that all the men of letters in this place concur in their admiration of 
 your work, and in their anxious desire of your continuing it. 
 
 " When I heard of your undertaking (which was some time ago) I 
 own that I was a little curious to see how you would extricate your- 
 self from the subject of your two last chapters. I think you have 
 observed a very prudent temperament ; but it was impossible to treat 
 the subject so as not to give groimds of suspicion against you, and you 
 may expect that a clamour will arise. This, if anything, will retard 
 your success with the public ; for in every other respect your work is 
 calculated to be popular. But, among many other marks of decline,, 
 the prevalence of superstition in England prognosticates the fall of 
 Philosophy, and decay of taste ; and though nobody be more capable 
 than you to revive them, you Avill probably find a struggle in your 
 first advances. 
 
 " I see you entertain a great doubt with regard to the authenticity 
 of the poems of Ossian. You are certainly right in so doing. It is 
 indeed strange that any men of sense could have imagined it possible 
 that above twenty thousand verses, along with numberless liistorical
 
 PAEIS. 31& 
 
 pressing invitation of Mr. and Madame Necker, who had 
 visited England in the preceding summer. On my 
 arrival I found Mr. Necker, Director-general of the 
 finances, in the first bloom of power and popularity ; his 
 private fortune enabled him to support a liberal estab- 
 lishment ; and his wife, whose talents and virtues I had 
 long admired, was admirably qualified to preside in the 
 conversation of her table and drawing-room. As their 
 friend, I was introduced to the best company of both 
 sexes ; to the foreign ministers of all nations, and to the 
 first names and characters of France, who distinguished 
 me by such marks of civility and kindness as gratitude 
 will not suffer me to forget, and modesty will not allow 
 
 facts, could have been preserved by oral tradition, during fifty genera- 
 tions, by the rudest perhaps of all the European nations, the most 
 necessitous, the most turbulent, and the most unsettled. Where a 
 supposition is so contrary to common sense, any positive evidence for 
 it ought never to be regarded ; men run with great avidity to give 
 their evidence in favour of what flatters their passions and their 
 national prejudices. You are, therefore, over and above indulgent to 
 us in speaking of the matter with hesitation. 
 
 " I must inform you that we are all very anxious to hear that you 
 have fully collected the materials for your second volume, and that 
 you are even considerably advanced in the composition of it. I speak 
 this more in the name of my friends than in my own, as I cannot 
 expect to live so long as to see the publication of it. Your ensuing 
 Volume will be still more delicate than the preceding, but I trust hi 
 your prudence for extricating you from the difficulties ; and in all 
 events you have courage to despise the clamour of Bigots. 
 
 " I am, with gi-eat regard, 
 " Dear Sir, 
 " Yom- most obedient and most humble servant, 
 
 " David Hume." 
 
 Some weeks afterwards I had the melancholy pleasure of seeing 
 Mr. Hume in his passage through London ; his body feeble, his mind 
 firm. On the 25th of August of the same year (1770) he died at 
 Edinburgh, the death of a Philosopher.
 
 314 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 me to enumerate. The fashionable suppers often broke 
 into the morning hours ; yet I occasionally consulted the 
 Koyal Library, and that of the Abbey of St. Germain ; 
 and in the free use of their books at home I had always 
 reason to praise the liberality of those institutions. The 
 society of men of letters I neither courted nor declined ; 
 but I was happy in the acquaintance of Mr. de Buffon, 
 who united with a sublime Genius the most amiable 
 simplicity of mind and manners. At the table of my 
 old friend, ]Mr. de Foncemagne, I was involved in a 
 dispute ^^ with the Abbe de Mably,^^ and his jealous 
 
 21 As I might be partial in my own cause, I shall transcribe the 
 words of an miknown critic (Supplement a la maniere d'ecrire I'histoire, 
 p. 125, etc.), observing only that this dispute had been preceded by 
 another on the English constitution at the house of the Countess de 
 Froulay, an old Jansenist Lady. " Vous etiez chez M. de Foncemagne, 
 mon cher Theodon, le jour que M. I'Abbe de Mably et M. Gibbon y 
 dinerent en grande compagnie. La conversation roula presque entiere- 
 ment sur I'histoire. L'Abbe etant un profond politique, la tourna sur 
 Tadministration, quand on fut au dessert ; et com me par caractere, par 
 humeur, par I'habitude d'admirer Tite-Live, il ne prise que le systeme 
 Eepublicain, il se mit a vanter I'excellence des Republiques ; bien per- 
 suade que le savant Anglois I'approuveroit en tout, et admireroit la 
 profondeur de genie, qui avoit fait deviner tous ces avantages a un 
 Fran9ois. Mais M. Gibbon, instruit par experience des inconveniens 
 d'un gouvernement populaire, ne fut point du tout de son avis, et il 
 prit genereusement la defense du gouvernement monarchique. L'Abbe 
 voulut le convaincre par Tite-Live, et par quelques argumens tires de 
 Plutarque en favour des Spartiates. M. Gibbon, done de la memoire 
 la plus heureuse, et ayant tous les faits presens a la pensee, domina 
 bien-tot la conversation ; I'Abbe se facha, il s'emporta, il dit des choses 
 dures. L' Anglois, conservant le flegme de son pays, prenoit ses avantages, 
 et pressoit I'Abbe avec d'autaut plus de succes que la colere le troubloit 
 de plus en plus. La conversation s'echautfoit, et M. de Foncemagne 
 la rompit en se levant de table, et en passant dans le sallon, oil per- 
 sonne ne fut tent6 de la renouer." 
 
 2 Of the voluminous writings of the Abbd de Mably (see his Hoge
 
 VARIOUS STUDIES. 315 
 
 irascible spirit revenged itself on a work which he was 
 incapable of reading in the original.^^ 
 
 Near two years had elapsed between the publication 1777. 
 of my first and the commencement of my second Volume ; ^^^^^ ^'^' 
 and the causes must be assigned of this long delay. 
 1. After a short holy day I indulged my curiosity in some 
 studies of a very different nature ; a course of Anatomy 
 which was demonstrated by Dr. Hunter, and some lessons 
 of Chemistry which were delivered by Mr. Higgins : the 
 principles of these sciences, and a taste for books of 
 Natural history, contributed to multiply my ideas and 
 images, and the Anatomist or Chemist may sometimes 
 track me in their own snow. 2. I dived perhaps too 
 deeply into the mud of the Arian controversy ; and many 
 days of reading, thinking, and writing were consumed 
 in the jiursuit of a phantom. 3. It is difficult to arrange 
 with order and perspicuity the various transactions of 
 the age of Constantino ; and so much was I displeased 
 
 by the Abbe Brizard), the Prlncipes du Droit public de TU'Europe, 
 and the first part of the Ohsei'vationa sur Vkistoire de France, may be 
 deservedly praised ; and even the Maniere d''ecrire Vkistoire contains 
 several useful precepts and judicious remarks. IMably was a lover of 
 virtue and freedom ; but his virtue was austere, and his freedom was 
 impatient of an equal. Kings, Magistrates, Nobles, and successful 
 writers were the objects of his contempt, or hatred, or envy ; but his 
 illiberal abuse of Voltaire, Hume, Biiffon, the Abbe Raynal, Dr. 
 Robertson, and tutti quanti, can be injurious only to himself. 
 
 33 "Est-il rien de plus fastidieux" (says the polite Censor), "qu'uu 
 ]M. Guibhon, qui, dans son etenielle histoire des Empereurs Romains, sus- 
 pend a chaque instant son insipide et lente narration, pour vous expliquer 
 la cause des faits que vous allez lire ? " (Maniere d'ecrire I'histoire, p. 
 184; see another passage, p. 280). Yet I am indebted to the Abbe 
 de Mably for two such advocates as the Anonymous French Critic 
 (Supplement, pp. 125-134), and my friend Mr. Hayley (vol. ii. pp. 
 261-2G3).
 
 316 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu E. 
 
 with the first Essay, that I committed to the flames above 
 fifty sheets. 4. The six months of Paris and pleasure 
 must be deducted from the account. But when I re- 
 sumed my task I felt my improvement. I was now 
 master of my style and subject ; and while the measure 
 of my daily performance was enlarged, I discovered less 
 reason to cancel or correct. It has always been my 
 practise to cast a long paragraph in a single mould, to 
 try it by my ear, to deposit it in my memory, but to 
 suspend the action of the pen till I had given the last 
 polish to my work. Shall I add that I never found my 
 mind more vigorous or my composition more happy 
 than in the winter hurry of society and Parliament ? 
 1779. Had I believed that the majority of English readers 
 
 were so fondly attached even to the name and shadow 
 of Christianity, had I foreseen that the pious, the timid, 
 and the prudent would feel, or affect to feel, with such 
 exquisite sensibility, I might perhaps have softened the 
 two invidious Chapters, which would create many enemies 
 and conciliate few friends. But the shaft was shot, the 
 alarm was sounded, and I could only rejoyce that if 
 the voice of our priests was clamorous and bitter, their 
 hands were disarmed of the powers of persecution. I 
 adhered to the wise resolution of trusting myself and 
 my writings to the candour of the Public, till Mr. Davies 
 of Oxford presumed to attack, not the faith, but the good 
 faith, of the historian. My Vindication,^^ expressive of 
 
 ^■* A Viiwlication of some 2>('ssagcs in the fifleenth and sixteenth 
 chapters of the Ilistonj of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, 
 h)j the Author : London, 1779, in octavo — for I would not print it ir» 
 (juarto, lest it should be bound and preserv'ed with the History itself. 
 At the distance of twelve years, I calmly affirm my judgement of
 
 GIBBON'S "VINDICATION." 317 
 
 less anger than contempt, amused for a moment the busy 
 and idle metropolis ; and the most rational part of the 
 Laity, and even of the Clergy, appears to have been satisfied 
 of my innocence and accuracy. My antagonists, however, 
 were rewarded in this World : poor Chelsum * was indeed 
 neglected, and I dare not boast the making Dr. Watson f 
 a Bishop ; ^ but I enjoyed the pleasure of giving a Eoyal 
 pension to Mr. Davies,f and of collating Dr. Apthorpe § 
 to an Archiepiscopal living. Their success encouraged 
 the zeal of Taylor || the Arian ^'^ and Milner the Me- 
 
 Davics, Chelsum, etc. A victory over such antagonists was a sufficient 
 humiliation. 
 
 ^■' Dr. Watson, now Bishop of Llandaif, is a prelate of a large 
 mind and liberal spirit. I should be happy to think that his apology 
 lor Christianity had contributed, though at my expence, to clear his 
 Theological character. He has amply repaid the obligation by the 
 amusement and instruction whicli I have received from the five Volumes 
 of his Chemical Essays. It is a great pity that an agreable and useful 
 science should not yet be reduced to a state of fixity. 
 
 ^ The stupendous title, Thoughts on the Caioses of the Grand 
 Ajwstacy, at first agitated my nerves, till I discovered that it was the 
 apostacy of the whole Church since the Council of Nice, from Mr. 
 Taylor's private Keligion. His book is a strange mixture of high 
 enthusiasm, and low buffoonery, and the Millennium is a fundamental 
 article of his creed. 
 
 * James Chelsum, D.D. (1740- Giblwn's History, within a few 
 
 1801), Fellow of Christ's College, months of taking his B.A. degree 
 
 Cambridge, author of Remarks on at Bailiol in 1778. His work "dis- 
 
 Mr. G ibbon's Hidory, 1772 and 1778; played ability, but he was no match 
 
 Beply to Gibbon's Vindication,nS5. for the historian as a coutro- 
 
 He also wrote a History of the Art versialist. 
 
 of Engraving. § East Apthorp (1732-1816), a 
 
 t Richard Watson (1737-181G), native of Boston, XJ.S.A, came to 
 
 Fellow of Trinity College, Cam- Jesus College, Cambridge, and was 
 
 bridge. Professor of Chemistry, appointed Prebend of Finsbury, 
 
 Regius Professor of Divinity; Arch- 1790. 
 
 deacon of Ely, 1780; Bishop of || Henry Taylor (died 1785), 
 
 Llandaft', 1782. An Apology for Rector of Crawley and Vicar of 
 
 Christianity, in a Series of Letters Portsmouth. His Tlwughts on the 
 
 to Edward Gibbon,appenved in 177G. Nature of the Grand Apostacy, with 
 
 X Henry Edwards Davis (1756- Eeflections on tlie Fifteenth Chapter 
 
 1784) published an attack on the of Mr. Gibbon's History, was pub- 
 
 lifteenth and sixteinth chapters of li thcd in 1781-2.
 
 318 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik E. 
 
 thodist,^' with many others whom it would be difficult to 
 remember and tedious to rehearse : the list of my adver- 
 saries was graced with the more respectable names of Dr. 
 Priestley,^^ Sir David Dalrymple,^^ and Dr. White/° and 
 
 ^'^ From his Grammar school at Kingston-npon-Hull, Mr. Joseph 
 Milner * pronounces an anathema against all rational Eeligion. His faith 
 is a divine taste, a spiritual inspiration ; his Church is a mystic and 
 invisible body : the natural Christians, such as Mr. Locke, who believe 
 and interpret the Scriptures, are in his judgement no better than profane 
 infidels. 
 
 38 la his History of the Corruptions of Christianity (vol. ii.). Dr. 
 Priestly throws down his two gauntlets to Bishop Hurd and Mr. 
 Gibbon. I declined the challenge in a polite letter, exhorting my 
 opponent to enlighten the World by his philosophical discoveries, and 
 to remember that the merit of his predecessor Servetus is now 
 reduced to a single passage, which indicates the smaller circulation 
 of the blood through the lungs, from and to the heart (Astruc de la 
 structure du Coeur, tom. i. pp. 77-79). Instead of listening to this 
 friendly advice, the dauntless philosopher of Birmingham continues to 
 fire away his double battery against those who believe too little and 
 those who believe too much. From my replies he has nothing to hope 
 or fear ; but his Socinian shield has repeatedly been pierced by the 
 spear of the mighty Horsley, and his trumpet of sedition may at length 
 awaken the magistrates of a free country. 
 
 •''' The profession and rank of Sir David Dalrymple (now a Lord 
 of Session) f have given a more decent colour to his style. But he 
 scrutinizes each separate passage of the two chapters with the dry 
 minuteness of a special pleader ; and as he is always solicitous to make, 
 he may sometimes succeed in finding, a flaw. In his Annals of 
 Scotland he has shewn himself a diligent Collector and an accurate 
 Critic. 
 
 "■" I have praised, and I still praise the eloquent sermons which 
 were preached in St. Mary's pulpit at Oxford by Dr. White.:!: If he 
 
 * Joseph Milner (1744-1797), 
 Head-master of Hull Grammar 
 Scliool, and subsequently Vicar of 
 Holy Trinity, Hull, was a volumi- 
 nous writer ; his best-known work 
 is his History of the Church of 
 Christ, which ho did not live to 
 complete. His Gibbon's Account of 
 Christianity Considered appeared in 
 
 1781. 
 
 t Afterwards Lord Hailes 
 (1726-1792). 
 
 X Joseph Whito, D.D. (174G- 
 1814), son of a weaver at Glou- 
 cester, became Fellow of Wadham 
 College, Ijaudian Professor of Ara- 
 bic, and Begins Professor of Hebrew 
 in Oxford. The allusion to Gibbon
 
 ATTACKS ON THE HISTORY. 319 
 
 every polemic of either University discliarged his sermon 
 or pamphlet against the impenetrable silence of the 
 Roman historian.^^ Let me frankly own that I was 
 startled at the first vollies of this Ecclesiastical ordnance; 
 but as soon as I found that this empty noise was mis- 
 chievous only in the intention, my fear was converted to 
 indignation, and every feeling of indignation or curiosity 
 has long since subsided in pure and placid indiiference. 
 
 The prosecution of my history was soon afterwards i779. 
 checked by another controversy of a very different kind. ^^' 
 At the request of the Chancellor and of Lord Weymouth, 
 then Secretary of State, I vindicated against the French 
 
 assaults me with some degree of illiberal acrimony, in snch a place 
 and before such an audience, he was obliged to speak the language of 
 the country. I smiled at a passage in one of his private letters to Mr. 
 Badcock : " The part where we encounter Gibbon must be bril][i]ant 
 and striking." 
 
 ■•i In a sermon lately preached before the University of Cam- 
 bridge, Dr. Edwards compliments a work " which can only perish with 
 the language itself," and esteems the author as a formidable enemy. 
 He is indeed astonished that more learning and ingenuity has not been 
 sheAvn in the defence of Israel ; that the prelates and dignitaries of the 
 Church (alas ! good man) did not vie with each other whose stone 
 should sink the deepest in the forehead of this Goliah. '' But the force 
 of truth will oblige us to confess that in the attacks which have been 
 levelled against our Sceptical historian, we can discover but slender 
 traces of profound and exquisite erudition, of solid criticism and 
 accurate investigation ; but are too frequently disgusted by vague 
 and inconclusive reasoning, by unseasonable banter and senseless 
 witticisms, by imlettered bigotry and enthusiastic jargon, by futile 
 cavils and illiberal invectives. Proud and elated by the weakness of 
 his antagonists, he condescends not to handle the sword of controversy, 
 etc." {Monthhj Review for October, 1790, vol. iii. p. 237). 
 
 was made in his Bampton Lectures Samuel Badcock, who is mentioned 
 
 on Mahometanism and Christianity. in Gibbon's note ; the question is 
 
 We need not here dwell on the use dealt with in the life of Dr. Samuel 
 
 lie made of the works of the Rev. Parr.
 
 July 3 
 
 320 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 manifesto the justice of the British arms. The whole 
 correspondence of Lord Stormont, our late Ambassador 
 at Paris, was submitted to my inspection, and the Memoire 
 Justijicatif, which I composed in French, was first ap- 
 proved by the Cabinet Ministers, and then delivered as 
 a state paper to the Courts of Europe. The style and 
 manner are praised by Beaumarchais himself, who, in his 
 private quarrel, attempted a reply ; but he flatters me by 
 ascribing the Memoire to Lord Stormont, and the grossness 
 of his invective betrays the loss of temper and of wit.^ 
 1779. Among the honourable connections which I had 
 
 formed, I may justly be proud of the friendship of 
 Mr. Wedderburne, at that time Attorney-General, who 
 now illustrates the title of Lord Loughborough, and the 
 office of Chief Justice of the Common pleas. By his 
 strong recommendation, and the favourable disposition 
 of Lord Xorth, I was appointed one of the Lords Com- 
 missioners of trade and plantations, and my private 
 income was enlarged by a clear addition of between seven 
 and eight hundred pounds a year. The fancy of an 
 hostile Orator may paint in the strong colours of ridicule 
 "the perpetual virtual adjournment and the unbroken 
 sitting vacation of the board of trade ; " *^ but it must 
 
 *2 See ffiuvres de Beaumarchais, torn. iii. pp. 299-355 : " Le 
 style ne seroit pas sans gi'aces ni la logique sans justesse," etc., if the 
 facts were true, which he undertakes to disprove. For these facts my 
 credit is not pledged — I spoke as a lawyer from my brief; but the 
 veracity of Beaumarchais may be estimated from the assertion that 
 France, by the treaty of Paris (1763), was limited to a certain number 
 of ships of war. On the application of the Duke of Choiseul lie was 
 obliged to retract this daring falsehood. 
 
 ••3 See Mr. Burke's Speech on the bill of reform, pp. 72-80. I 
 can never forget the delight with which that diffusive and ingenious 
 Orator was heard by all sides of the House, and even by those whoso
 
 LORD COMMISSIONER OF TRADE, ETC. 321 
 
 be allowed tliat our duty was not intolerably severe, and 
 that I enjoyed many days and weeks of repose without 
 being called away from my library to the office. My 
 acceptance of a place provoked some of the Leaders of 
 opposition, with whom I lived in habits of intimacy, and 
 I was most unjustly accused of deserting a party in which 
 I had never been enlisted. 
 
 The aspect of the next Session of parliament was 
 stormy and perilous : County meetings, petitions, and 
 committees of correspondence announced the public dis- 
 content ; and instead of voting with a triumphant majority, 
 the friends of government were often exposed to a struggle 
 and sometimes to a defeat. The house of Commons 
 adopted Mr. Dunning's motion, "that the influence of 
 the Crown had encreased, was encreasing, and ought to 
 be diminished ; " and Mr. Burke's bill of reform was 
 framed with skill, introduced with eloquence, and sup- 
 ported by numbers. Our late president, the American a.d. 
 
 1780 
 
 Secretary of State, very narrowly escaped the sentence March 13. 
 
 of proscription, but the unfortunate board of trade was 
 
 abolished in the committee by a small majority (207 to 
 
 199) of eight votes. The storm, however, blew over for 
 
 a time. A large defection of Country Gentlemen eluded 
 
 the sanguine hopes of the patriots; the Lords of trade 
 
 were revived ; administration recovered their strength 
 
 and spirit ; and the flames of London, which were kindled June 2, 
 
 by a mischievous madman, admonished all thinking men 
 
 of the danger of an appeal to the people. In the prae- 
 
 existence he proscribed. The Lords of Trade blushed at then- own 
 insignificancy, and Mr. Eden's appeal to the two thousand five hundred 
 volumes of our reports served only to excite a general laugh. I take 
 this opportunity of certifying the correctness of Mr. Burke's printed 
 speeches, which I have heard and read. 
 
 Y 
 
 etc.
 
 322 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 Sept. 1. mature dissolution whicli followed this Session of parlia- 
 ment I lost my seat. Mr. Eliot was now deeply engaged 
 in the measures of opposition, and the Electors of Leskeard 
 are commonly of the same opinion as Mr. Eliot. 
 
 1781. In this interval of my Senatorial life, I published the 
 
 March 1. . ^ ^_ "^ ^ . ^ 
 
 second and third Volumes of the decline and fall. My 
 Ecclesiastical history still breathed the same spirit of 
 freedom ; but Protestant zeal is more indifferent to the 
 characters and controversies of the fourth and fifth 
 Centuries ; my obstinate silence had damped the ardour 
 of the polemics ; Dr. Watson, the most candid of my 
 adversaries, assured me that he had no thoughts of re- 
 newing the attack, and my impartial balance of the 
 virtues and vices of Julian was generally praised. This 
 truce was interrupted only by some animadversions of 
 the Catholics of Italy,^^ and by some angry letters from 
 Mr. Travis,^^ who made me personally resjDonsible for 
 
 *■* The piety or prudence of my Italian translator * has provided an 
 antidote against the poison of his original. The v"" and vii"" Volumes 
 are armed with five letters from an anonymous Divine to his friends, 
 Foothead and Kirk, two English students at Rome, and tliis meritorious 
 service is commended by Monsignore Stonor, a prelate of the same 
 nation, who discovers much venom in the fluid and nervous style of 
 Gibbon. The critical Essay at the end of the iii" Volume was 
 furnished by the Abbate Nicola Spedalieri, whose zeal has gradually 
 swelled to a more solid confutation in two quarto Volumes. Shall 
 I be excused for not having read them ? 
 
 *^ The brutal insolence of his challenge can only be excused by 
 the absence of learning, judgement, and humanity ; and to that excuse 
 he has the faii-est or foulest title. Compared with Archdeacon Travis,t 
 Chelsum and Davis assume the character of respectable enemies. 
 
 * Dean Milmau states iu his and — Poggi). 
 
 notes that hi; was never able to f George Travis (1740-1797), of 
 
 liud the Italian translation. It was St. John's College, Oxford, wrote 
 
 ))ubli8lied in Pisa, 1779-8G, under Letters to Edward Gibbon . . . in 
 
 lhe title Idoria della decadenza e Defenceof the Authenticity of IJohn 
 
 rovina ddV Imperio Itomano tra- v.l in 1784. 
 
 dotta dalV Inglese ri>y A. Fabbrou
 
 SECOND AND THIRD VOLUMES OF THE HISTORY. 323 
 
 condemning with the best Critics the spurious text of the 
 three heavenly Witnesses. The bigotted advocate of Popes 
 and monks may be turned over even to the bigots of 
 Oxford, and the wretched Travis still howls under the 
 lash of the mercyless Porson.^*^ But I perceived, and 
 without surprize, the coldness and even prejudice of the 
 town ; nor could a whisper escape my ear that, in the 
 judgement of many readers, my continuation was much 
 inferior to the original attempt. An author who cannot 
 ascend will always appear to sink : envy was now pre- 
 pared for my reception, and the zeal of my religious *'^ was 
 fortified by the malice of my political enemies. I 
 was, however, encouraged by some domestic and foreign 
 
 ■*'' I consider Mr. Porsou's answer to Archdeacon Travis as the 
 most acute and accurate piece of criticism which has appeared since 
 the days of Bentley. His strictures are founded in argument, enriched 
 with learning, and enhvened with wit, and his adversary neither deserves 
 nor finds any quarter at his hands. The evidence of the three heavenly 
 witnesses would now be rejected in any court of Justice ; but prejudice 
 is blind, autliority is deaf, and our vulgar Bibles will ever be polluted 
 l)y this spurious text, " Sedet seternumque sedebit." The more 
 learned Ecclesiastics will, indeed, have the secret satisfaction of repro- 
 batuig in the Closet what they read in the Church. 
 
 " Bishop Newton (see his Life in Posthumous works, vol. i. pp. 
 173, 174, octavo edition) was at full liberty to declare how much he 
 himself and two eminent brethren were disgusted by Mr. G.'s 
 prolixity, tediousness, and aifectation. But the old man should not 
 have indulged his zeal in a false and feeble charge against the 
 historian, who had faithfully and even cautiously rendered Dr. Burnet's 
 meaning by the alternative " of sleep or repose.'" That philosophic 
 Divine supposes that in the period between death and the resurrection 
 human souls exist without a body, endowed with internal conscious- 
 ness, but destitute of all active or passive connection with the external 
 World. " Secundum communem dictionem Sacrse Scripturse, Mors 
 dicitur somnus, Qi morientes dicuntur ohdormire: quod innuere mihi 
 videtur statum mortis esse statum quietis, silentii, et aepyao-tas" (De 
 statu Mortuorum, C. v. p. 98).
 
 324 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 testimonies of applause, and the second and third volumes 
 insensibly rose in sale and reputation to a level with the 
 first. But the public is seldom wrong ; and I am inclined 
 to believe that, especially in the beginning, they are more 
 prolix and less entertaining than ;the first : my efforts 
 had not been relaxed by success, and I had rather deviated 
 into the opposite fault of minute and superfluous dili- 
 gence. On the continent my name and writings were 
 slowly diffused : a French translation of the first volume 
 had disappointed the booksellers of Paris, and a passage 
 in the third was construed as a personal reflection on the 
 reigning Monarch.^^ 
 A.D. Before I could apply for a seat at the general Election, 
 
 June, the list was already full ; but Lord North's promise was 
 sincere, his recommendation was effectual, and I was soon 
 chosen on a vacancy for the borough of Lymington, in 
 Hampshire. In the first Session of the new parliament, 
 administration stood their ground ; their final overthrow 
 was reserved for the second. The American War had 
 once been the favourite of the Country ; the pride of 
 England was irritated by the resistance of her Colonies; 
 and the executive power was driven by national clamour 
 into the most vigorous and coercive measures. But the 
 length of a fruitless contest, the loss of armies, the 
 
 *^ It may not be generally known that Louis XVI. is a 
 great reader, and a reader of English books. On the perusal of a 
 passage of my History (vol. iii. p. 63G), which seems to compare him 
 with Arcadius or Honorius, he expressed his resentment to the Prince 
 
 of B , from whom the intelligence was conveyed to me. I shall 
 
 neither disclaim the allusion nor examine the likeness ; but the situa- 
 tion of the late King of France excludes all suspicioti of flattery, and 
 I am ready to declare that the concluding observations of my third 
 Volume were written before his accession to the throne.
 
 ABOLITION OF THE LORDS OF TRADE. 325 
 
 accumulation of debt and taxes, and the hostile con- 
 federacy of France, Spain, and Holland, indisposed the 
 public to the American War and the persons by whom it 
 was conducted. The representatives of the people followed 
 at a slow distance the changes of their opinion, and the 
 ministers who refused to bend were broken by the tempest. 
 As soon as Lord North had lost, or was about to lose, a 
 majority in the house of Commons, he surrendered his 
 office, and retired to a private station, with the tranquil 
 assurance of a clear conscience and a chearful temper ; 
 the old fabric was dissolved, and the posts of Government 
 were occupied by the victorious and veteran troops of 
 opposition. The Lords of Trade were not immediately 
 dismissed ; but the board itself was abolished by Mr. 
 Burke's bill, which decency compelled the patriots to 1782. 
 revive, and I was stripped of a convenient salary after I 
 had enjoyed it about three years. 
 
 So flexible is the title of my history, that the final aera 
 might be fixed at my own choice, and I long hesitated 
 whether I should be content with the three Volumes, the 
 fall of the Western Empire, which fullfiUed my first 
 engagement with the public. In this interval of sus- 
 pense, near a twelvemonth, I returned by a natural im- 
 pulse to the Greek authors of antiquity. In my library 
 in Bentinck street, at my summer lodgings at Bright- 
 lielmstone, at a country house which I hired at Hampton 
 Court, I read with new pleasure the Iliad and Odyssey, 
 the histories of Herodotus, Thucydides, and Xenophon, 
 a large portion of the tragic and comic theatre of Athens, 
 and many interesting dialogues of the Socratic school. 
 Yet in the luxury of freedom I began to wish for the 
 daily task, the active pursuit which gave a value to every
 
 326 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoik E. 
 
 1782. book, and an object to every enquiry : the preface of a 
 new edition announced my design, and I dropt without 
 reluctance from the age of Plato to that of Justinian. 
 The original texts of Procopius and Agathias supplied 
 the events, and even the characters, of his reign ; but a 
 laborious winter was devoted to the Codes, the Pandects, 
 and the modern interpreters before I presumed to form 
 an abstract of the Civil law. My skill was improved by 
 practise, my diligence perhaps was quickened by the loss 
 of office, and, except the last chapter, I had finished my 
 fourth Volume before I sought a retreat on the banks of 
 the Leman lake. 
 
 1783. It is not the purpose of this narrative to expatiate on 
 the public or secret history of the times — the schism which 
 followed the death of the Marquis of Eockingham, the 
 appointment of the Earl of Shelburne, the resignation of 
 Mr. Fox, and his famous coalition with Lord North. But 
 I may affirm with some degree of assurance that in their 
 political conflict those great antagonists had never felt 
 any personal animosity to each other ; that their recon- 
 ciliation was easy and sincere ; and that their friendship 
 has never been clouded by the shadow of suspicion or 
 jealousy. The most violent or venal of their respective 
 followers embraced this fair occasion of revolt ; but their 
 alliance still commanded a majority in the House of 
 Commons : the peace was censured ; Lord Shelburne 
 resigned, and the two friends knelt on the same cushion 
 to take the oath of Secretary of State, From a 
 principle of gratitude I adhered to the coalition ; my 
 vote was counted in the day of battle, but I was over- 
 looked in the division of the spoil. There were many 
 claimants more deserving and importunate than myself:
 
 MEDITATES LEAVING ENGLAND. 327 
 
 the board of trade could not be restored ; aud while 
 the list of places was curtailed, the number of candidates 
 was doubled. An easy dismission to a secure seat at 
 the board of customs or excise was promised on the first 
 vacancy ; but the chance was distant and doubtful, nor 
 could I solicit with much ardour an ignoble servitude 
 which would have robbed me of the most valuable of my 
 studious hours.* At the same time, the tumult of London 
 and the attendance on Parlia[ment] were grown more 
 irksome, and without some additional income I could not 
 long or prudently maintain the style of expence to which 
 I was accustomed. 
 
 From mv early acquaintance with Lausanne I had 1783. 
 
 , -11 -11 1 Tin May 20. 
 
 always cherished a secret wish that the school oi my 
 
 youth might become the retreat of my declining age. 
 
 A moderate fortune would secure the blessings of ease, 
 
 leisure, and independence : the country, the people, the 
 
 manners, the language, were congenial to my taste ; and 
 
 I might indulge the hope of passing some years in the 
 
 domestic society of a friend. After travelling with several 
 
 English,! Mr. Deyverdun was now settled at home in a 
 
 pleasant habitation, the gift of his deceased aunt : we had 
 
 * About the same time, it being principal, of an unknown, perhaps 
 
 in contemplation to send a secre- an unamiable character : to whicb 
 
 tary of embassy to Paris, Mr. might be added the danger of the 
 
 Gibbon was a competitor lor that recall of the ambassador, or the 
 
 office. The credit of being dis- change of ministry. Mr. Anthony 
 
 tinguished and stopped by govern- Storer was preferred. Mr. Gibbon 
 
 ment when he was leaving England, was somewhat indignant at the 
 
 the salary of 1200/. a year, the preference ; but he never knew 
 
 society of Paris, and the hope of a that it was the act of his friend 
 
 future provision for life, disposed Mr. Fox, contrary to the solicita- 
 
 him to renounce, though with muci I tions of Mr. Craufurd, and other 
 
 reluctance, an agreeable scheme on of his friends. — Sheffield. 
 the point of execution ; to engage, t Sir Eichard Worsley, Lord 
 
 without experience, in a scene of Chesterfield, Broderick Lord Midlc- 
 
 business which he never liked ; to ton, aud Mr. Hume, brother to Sir 
 
 give himself a master, or at least a Abraham.
 
 328 GIBBON^S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 long been separated, we had long been silent ; yet in my 
 first letter I exposed with the most perfect confidence my 
 situation, my sentiments and my designs. His immediate 
 answer was a warm and joyful acceptance : the picture of 
 our future life provoked my impatience ; and the terms of 
 arrangement were short and simple, as he possessed the 
 property and I undertook the expence of our common house. 
 Before I could break my English chain, it was incumbent 
 on me to struggle with the feelings of my heart, the indo- 
 lence of my temper, and the opinion of the World, which 
 unanimously condemned this voluntary banishment. In 
 the disposal of my effects, the library, a sacred deposit, 
 was alone excepted : as my post-chaise moved over 
 Westminster bridge, I bid a long farewell to the " fumum, 
 et opes, strepitumque Eomse." My journey by the direct 
 road through France was not attended with any accident, 
 and I arrived at Lausanne near twenty years after my 
 second departure. AVithin less than three months the 
 Coalition struck on some hidden rocks ; had I remained 
 aboard I should have perished in the general shipwreck. 
 A.D. Since mv establishment at Lausanne more than seven 
 
 178S " 
 
 September years have elapsed, and if every day has not been equally 
 1787 ^^^^ ^^^ serene, not a day, not a moment has occurred in 
 
 July 29. ■^hich I have repented of my choice. During my absence, 
 a long portion of human life, many changes had happened : 
 my elder acquaintance had left the stage ; virgins were 
 ripened into matrons, and children were grown to the 
 age of manhood. But the same manners were trans- 
 mitted from one generation to another : my friend alone 
 was an inestimable treasure; my name was not totally 
 forirotten, and all were ambitious to welcome the arrival 
 of a stranger, and the return of a fellow-citizen. The
 
 EETURN TO LAUSANNE. 329 
 
 first winter was given to a general embrace, without any 
 nice discrimination of persons and characters : after a 
 more regular settlement, a more accurate survey, I dis- 
 covered three solid and permanent benefits of my new 
 situation. 1. My personal freedom had been somewhat 
 impaired by the house of commons and the board of 
 trade ; but I was now delivered from the chain of duty 
 and dependence, from the hopes and fears of political 
 •adventure : my sober mind was no longer intoxicated by 
 the fumes of party, and I rejoyced in my escape as often 
 as I read of the midnight debates which preceded the 
 dissolution of Parliament. 2. My English oeconomy had 
 been that of a solitary batchelor who might afford some 
 occasional dinners. In Switzerland I enjoyed at every 
 meal, at every hour, the free and pleasant conversation 
 of the friend of my youth ; and my daily table was 
 always provided for the reception of one or two extra- 
 ordinary guests. Our importance in society is less a 
 positive than a relative weight : in London I was lost 
 in the crowd ; I ranked with the first families of 
 Lausanne, and my style of prudent expence enabled 
 me to maintain a fair balance of reciprocal civilities. 
 3. Instead of a small house between a street and a stable- 
 yard, I began to occupy a spacious and convenient 
 mansion, connected on the north side with the City, 
 and open on the south to a beautiful and boundless 
 horizon. A garden of four acres had been laid out by 
 the taste of Mr. Deyverdun ; from the garden a rich 
 scenery of meadows and vineyards descends to the Leman 
 lake, and the prospect far beyond the lake is crowned by 
 the stupendous mountains of Savoy. My books and my 
 acquaintance had been first united in London; but this
 
 330 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 happy position of my library in towD and country was 
 finally reserved for Lausanne. Possessed of every comfort 
 in this triple alliance, I could not be tempted to change 
 my habitation with the changes of the seasons. 
 
 My friends had been kindly apprehensive that I 
 should not be able to exist in a Swiss town at the foot 
 of the Alps, after so long conversing with the first men 
 of the first cities of the World. Such lofty connections 
 may attract the curious and gratify the vain, but I am 
 too modest or too proud to rate my own value by that 
 of my associates ; and whatsoever may be the fame of 
 learning or genius, experience has shewn me that the 
 cheaper qualifications of politeness and good sense are 
 of more useful currency in the commerce of life. By 
 many conversation is esteemed as a theatre or a school ; 
 but after the morning has been occupied by the labours 
 of the library, I wish to unbend rather than to exercise 
 mv mind, and in the interval between tea and supper 
 I am far from disdaining the innocent amusement of a 
 game at cards. Lausanne is peopled by a numerous 
 gentry, whose companionable idleness is seldom disturbed 
 by the pursuits of avarice or ambition ; the women, though 
 confined to a domestic education, are endowed for the 
 most part with more taste and knowledge than their 
 husbands or brothers; but the decent freedom of both 
 sexes is equally remote from the extremes of simplicity 
 and refinement. I shall add, as a misfortune rather than 
 a merit, that the situation and beauty of the Pays de 
 Vaud, the long habits of the English, the medical repu- 
 tation of Dr. Tissot, and the fashion of viewing the 
 mountains and glaciers, have opened us on all sides to 
 the incursions of foreigners. The visits of Mr. and
 
 LIFE AT LAUSANNE. 331 
 
 Madame Necker/^ of Prince Henry of Priissia,^'^ and of 
 Mr. Fox ^^ may form some pleasing exceptions ; bnt, in 
 general, Lausanne has appeared most agreable in my 
 eyes when we have been abandoned to our own society. 
 
 My transmigration from London to Lausanne could a.t) 
 not be effected without interrupting the course of my July, etc. 
 historical labours. The hurry of my departure, the joy 
 of my arrival, the delay of my tools, suspended their 
 progress, and a full twelvemonth was lost before I could 
 resume the thread of regular and daily industry. A 
 number of books, most requisite and least common, had 
 been pmeviously selected ; the Academical library of 
 Lausanne, which I could use as my own, contains at 
 least the fathers and councils, and I have derived some 
 occasional succour from the public collections of Bern 
 and Geneva. The fourth volume was soon terminated 
 
 *^ I saw them frequently in the summer of 1784, at a country 
 house near Lausanne, where Mr. Necker composed his treatise of the 
 administration of the Finances. I liave since (in October, 1790) 
 visited them in their present residence, the castle and barony of Copet, 
 near Geneva. Of the merits and measures of that Statesman various 
 opinions may be entertained, but all impartial men must agree in their 
 esteem of his integrity and patriotism. 
 
 ^'^ In the month of August, 1784, Prince Henry of Prussia, in his 
 way to Paris, passed three days at Lausanne. His military conduct 
 is praised by professional men; his character has been vilified by 
 the wit and malice of a Daemon (Memoires secrets de la cour de 
 Berlin) ; but I was flattered by his aiTabUity, and entertained by 
 his conversation. 
 
 51 In his tour of Switzerland (September, 1788), Mr. Fox gave 
 me two days of free and private society. He seemed to feel and even 
 to envy the happiness of my situation ; while I admired the powers of 
 a superior man, as they are blended in his attractive character, with 
 the softness and simplicity of a child. Perhaps no human being was 
 ever more perfectly exempt from the taint of malevolence, vanity, or 
 falsehood.
 
 332 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 by an abstract of the controversies of the Incarnation,^^ 
 which the learned Dr. Prideaux* was apprehensive of 
 exposing to profane eyes.^^ In the fifth and sixth 
 Volumes the revolutions of the Empire and the World 
 are most rapid, various, and instructive ; and the Greek 
 or Koman historians are checked by the hostile narratives 
 of the Barbarians of the East and West. It was not till 
 after many designs and many tryals that I preferred, as 
 I still prefer, the method of groupping my picture by 
 nations,^* and the seeming neglect of Chronological order 
 is surely compensated by the superior merits of interest 
 and persj)icuity. The style of the first Volume is, in my 
 o]3inion, somewhat crude and elaborate ; in the second 
 
 ^^ In one of the Dialogues of the dead (xvi.) Lucian turns into 
 ridicule the Pagan theology concerning the double Nature of Hercules, 
 God and Man (0pp., torn. i. pp. 402-405, edit Reitz). As truth and 
 falsehood have sometimes an apparent similitude, I am afraid that 
 even the Synods of Ephesus and Chalcedon would not have been safe 
 from the arrows of his profane wit. 
 
 ^^ It had been the original design of the learned Dean Prideaux 
 to write the history of the ruin of the Eastern Church. In this work 
 it would have been necessary not only to unravel all those controversies 
 which the Christians made about the Hypostatical Union, but also to 
 unfold all the niceties and subtile notions which each sect did hold 
 concerning it. The pious historian was apprehensive of exposing that 
 incomprehensible Mystery to the cavils and objections of unbelievers, 
 and he durst not, considering the nature of this book, venture it abroad 
 in so wanton and lewd an age (see Preface to the Life of Mahomet, 
 p. xxi.). 
 
 ^'* I have followed the judicious precept of the Abbe de Mably 
 (Maniere d'ecrire I'histoire, p. 110), who advises the historian not to 
 dwell too minutely on the decay of the Eastern I*]mpire, but to con- 
 sider the Barbarian conquerors as a more worthy subject of his 
 narrative. "Fas est et ab hoste doceri." 
 
 * Humphrey Prideaux (1048- Dean of Norwich, 1702. His Life 
 1724), Christ Church, Oxford; o/"iHa/iome( was published in I G97.
 
 COMPLETION OF THE HISTOEY. 333 
 
 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 ; 1787. 
 I shall now commemorate the hour of my final deliverance. 
 It was on the day, or rather the 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 herceau, 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 himibled, and a sober melancholy was spread 
 over my mind by the idea that I had taken my ever- 
 lasting leave of an old and agreable companion, and
 
 334 gibbon's autobiography. [Memoir E. 
 
 that, whatsoever might be the future date 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 except those of the Author and 
 the printer ; the faults and the merits are exclusively 
 my own. 
 A.D. After a quiet residence of four years, during which I 
 
 1787 
 
 July 29. 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 atchieved 
 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. Hol- 
 royd) had recommended him to a seat in Parliament for 
 Coventry, the command of a regiment of light Dragoons, 
 and an Lish peerage. The sense and spirit of his political 
 writings have decided the public opinion on the great 
 questions of our commercial intercourse with America ^^^ 
 
 •>■' I cannot help recollecting a much more extraordinary fact, 
 which is affirmed of himself by Retif de la Bretonne, 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. 
 
 s** Observations on the commerce of the American states, hy John 
 Lord Sheffield: the sixth edition, London, 1784, in octavo. Their 
 sale 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-
 
 RETURN TO ENGLAND. 335 
 
 and Ireland.^'' He fell * (in 1784) with the unpopular 
 coalition, but his merit has been acknowledged at 
 the last general election (1790) by the honourable in- 
 vitation 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 rejoyced 
 in the apparent encrease of wealth and prosperity which 
 might be fairly divided between the spirit of the nation 
 and the wisdom of the minister. xVll 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 the most pleasure and assiduity was that 
 
 country may survive and Hourish 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. 
 
 ■^"^ Observations on the trade, inanufactures, and present state of 
 Ireland, hy John Lord Sheffield: the third edition, London, 1784, irt 
 octavo. Their useful aim was to guide the industry, to correct the 
 prejudices, and to asswage the passions of a country which seemed to 
 forget that she could only be free and prosperous by a friendly con- 
 nection with Great Britain. The conchiding observations are expressed 
 with so much ease and spirit, that they may be read by those who are 
 the least interested in the subject. 
 
 * It is not obvious from whence light dragoons, which he raised 
 
 he fell : he never held nor desired himself, and which was disbanded 
 
 any office of emolument whatever, on the peace, 1783, should be 
 
 unless his military commissions, deemed such. — Sate in Lord Shef- 
 
 and the command of a regiment of field's edition.
 
 336 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 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 
 1788. from England I assisted at the august spectacle of 
 Mr. Hastings's tryal in Westminster hall : I shall not 
 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.^^ 
 
 1787. As the publication of my three last volumes was the 
 
 1788. principal object, so it was the first care of my English 
 P^' ■ journey. The prsevious arrangements with the bookseller 
 
 and the printer were settled in my passage through 
 London, and the j)i'oofs 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, 
 Kamusius de bello C. P"'', the Greek Acts of the Synod 
 of Florence, the Statuta Urbis Romae, etc., were procured, 
 and I introduced in their proper places the supplements 
 
 ^* From this display of Genius, which blazed four successive daj's, 
 I shall stoop to a very mechanical circumstance. As I was waiting 
 in the Manager's bos, I had the curiosity to enquire 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 atford one hundred and twenty words in a minute, and two words 
 in each second. But this computation will only apply to the English 
 language. 
 
 * Sheridan alluded to certain Tacitus or the luminous page of 
 
 facts as being unparalleled in Gibbon." He is credited with 
 
 atrociousnet-s and criminality liaving explained in private that 
 
 " either in ancient or modern his- ho meant vo-luminous. 
 tory, in the correct periods of
 
 PUBLICATION OF VOL. IV. 337 
 
 which they afforded. The impression of the fourth 
 Yolume had consumed three months ; our common in- 
 terest required that we should move with a quicker pace, 
 and Mr. Strahan fullfilled his engagement, which few 
 printers could sustain, of delivering every week three 
 thousand copies of nine sheets. The day of publication 1788. 
 was, however, delayed, that it might coincide with the 
 fifty-first anniversary of my own birthday : the double 
 festival was celebrated by a chearful litterary dinner at 
 Cadell's house, and I seemed to blush while they read 
 an elegant compliment from Mr. Hayley,^^ whose poetical 
 talent had more than once been employed in the praise 
 of his friend. As most of the former purchasers were 
 naturally desirous of compleating 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 appears to have 
 diffused a strong sensation; it 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.*^" Yet, upon the whole. 
 
 °^ Before Mr. Hayley inscribed with my name his Epistles on 
 History, I was not personally 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. 
 
 fi" I never could understand the clamour which has been raised 
 against the indecency of my three last Vohmies. (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, and the most naked tale in my history 
 
 z
 
 338 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir E/ 
 
 the history of the decline and fall seems to have 
 struck a root both at home'^i and abroad,''^ and may, 
 perhaps, an hundred years hence, still continue to be 
 abused. The French,* Italian, and German transla- 
 
 is told by the Eeverend Mr. Joseph Warton, an instructor of Youth 
 (Essay on the Genius and Writings of Pope, pp. 322-324). (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 Thonnetete," 
 says the correct Boileau in a country and idiom more scrupulous than 
 our own. 
 
 "^ I am less flattered by Mr. Person's high encomium on the style 
 and spirit of my History than I am satisfied with his honourable testi- 
 mony to my attention, diligence, and accuracy — those humble virtues 
 which Religious zeal has most audaciously denied. The sweetness of 
 his praise is tempered by a reasonable mixture of acid (see his preface, 
 pp. xxviii.-xxxii.). 
 
 ^2 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 (Vol. iv. P. i. pp. 342-344) : " Summis 
 sevi nostri historicis Gibbonus sine dubio adnumerandus est. Inter 
 Capitolii ruinas stans primiim hujus operis scribendi consilium cepit. 
 Florentissimos vitse annos coUigendo et laborando eidem impendit. 
 Enatum inde monimentum sere perennius, licet passim appareant 
 sinistre dicta, minus perfecta, veritati non satis consentanea. Videmus 
 quidem ubique fere studium scrutandi veritatemque scribendi maxi- 
 mum : tamen sine Tillemontio duce, ubi scilicet hujus historia finitur, 
 scepius noster titubat atque hallucinatur. Quod vel maxime fit, ubi de 
 rebus Ecclesiasticis vel de Jm-is prudentia, Romana. (torn, iv.) tradit, et 
 in aliis locis. Attamen nsevi hujus generis baud impediunt quo minus 
 operis summam et oIkovoh'mv prseclare dispositam, delectum rerum 
 sapientissimum, argutum quoque interdum, dictionemque seu stilum 
 historico seque ac philosopho dignissimum, et vix a quoque alio Anglo, 
 Hnmio ac Robertsono baud exceptis, prserepto (prcerejitum f) , vehe- 
 menter laudemus, atque sseculo nostro de hujusmodi historiii gratu- 
 lemur . . . Gibbonus adversaries cum in turn extra patinam nactus est, 
 quia propagationem Religionis Christiana;, non, ut vulgo fieri solet, aut 
 more Theologorum, sed ut historicum et philosophum decet exposuerat." 
 
 * The French edition was subsequently revised by M. Guizot.
 
 LONDON COMPAEED WITH LAUSANNE. 339 
 
 tions ^^ 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 Irish pyrates are 
 at once my iriends and my enemies, but I cannot be 
 displeased with the two numerous and correct impres- 
 sions of the English original, which have been published 
 for the use of the Continent at Basil in Switzerland.^* 
 The conquests of our language and litterature are not 
 confined to Europe alone ; and the writer who succeeds 
 in London is speedily read on the banks of the Dela- 
 ware and the Ganges. 
 
 In the preface of the fourth Volume, while I gloried 
 in the name of an Englishman, I announced my ap- 
 proaching return to the neighbourhood of the lake of 
 Lausanne. This last tryal 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 
 
 ^ The first Volume had been feeblj' though faitlifull}' 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, MM. Desmeuniers 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 it were in my power to read the 
 German, which is praised by the best Judges. 
 
 •"^ Of their fourteen octavo Volumes, 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 complyance.
 
 340 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 amusements of public places were no longer adequate to 
 the trouble; the clubs and assemblies were filled witli 
 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 tempta- 
 tions would not have enlisted me a second time in the 
 A.D. servitude of parliament or office. At Tunbridge, some 
 
 1788 
 
 July 21- weeks after the publication of my history, I tore myself 
 from the embraces of Lord and Lady Sheffield, and, with 
 a young Swiss friend * 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 encreased 
 my chosen library to the number of six or 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 stept aside into every path of enquiry which 
 reading or reflection accidentally opened. 
 X789. Alas ! the joy of my return and my studious ardour 
 
 July o. yfQYQ goon damped by the melancholy state of my friend, 
 Mr. Dey verdun. 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 
 
 * M. Wilhelm de Severy.
 
 DEATH OF M. DEYVERDUN. 341 
 
 my remembrance ; each room, each walk, was imprinted 
 with our common footsteps, and I should blush at my 
 (jwn philosophy if a long interval of study had not 
 preceded and followed the death of my friend. By his 
 last will he left 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. The cer- 
 tainty of my tenure has allowed me to lay out a con- 
 siderable 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 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 
 
 "^ Yet I had often revolved the judicious lines in which Pope 
 answers the objection of his long-sighted 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 ? "
 
 342 GIBBONS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 and find the opportunities of meeting, yet even this valu- 
 able 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 of 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. 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 the present state of their 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 
 clamours of the triumphant Democrates. The fanatic 
 missionaries of sedition have scattered the seeds of dis- 
 content 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. 
 
 •^^ 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 acknow- 
 ledge the danger of exposing an old superstition to the contempt of the 
 blind and fanatic multitude.
 
 EE VOLUTIONS. 343 
 
 Many individuals, and some communities, appear to be 
 infected with the [[French disease ^"2, the wild theories of 
 equal and boundless freedom : but I trust that the body of 
 the people will be faithful to their sovereign and them- 
 selves ; 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 Bern protects the happiness, it 
 is superfluous to enquire whether it is founded in the 
 rights of man : the ceconomy 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. 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 over- 
 spread 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 compleat his fiftieth year.^^ I have 
 
 ^'' The revenue of Bern (I except some small duties) is derived 
 from Church lands, tythes, feudal rights, and interest of money. The 
 Eepubhc has near 500,000 pounds sterling in the English funds, and 
 the amount of their treasure is unknown to the Citizens themselves. 
 
 68 See Buffon, Supplement a I'histoire naturelle, tom. vii. pp. 
 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 ! 
 
 * " Gallic frenzy " in Lord Sheffield's edition.
 
 344 GIBEON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 now passed that age, and may fairly estimate the present 
 value of my existence in the threefold division of mind, 
 body, and estate. 
 
 i. The first indispensable requisite of happiness is 
 a clear conscience, unsullied by the reproach or remem- 
 brance of an unworthy action. 
 
 " Hie niurus alaeneus esto 
 Nil conscire sibi, nulla pallescere culpa." 
 
 I am endowed with a chearful temper, a moderate sensi- 
 bility, and a natural disposition to repose rather than to 
 action : some mischievous appetites and habits have 
 perhaps been corrected by philosophy or time. The love 
 of study, a passion which derives fresh vigour from enjoy- 
 ment, supplies each day, each hour, with a perpetual 
 source of independent and rational j)leasure, and I am 
 not sensible of any decay of the mental faculties. The 
 original soil has been highly improved by labour and 
 manure ; but it may be questioned whether some flowers 
 of fancy, some grateful errors, have not been eradicated 
 with the weeds of prejudice, ii. 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 ; ^the 
 play of the animal machine still continues to be easy 
 and regular,] and the inestimable gift of the sound and 
 peaceful slumbers of infancy may be imputed both to the 
 mind and body. [About the age of forty I was first 
 afflicted with the gout, which in the space of fourteen 
 years has made seven or eight different attacks ; their 
 duration, though not their intensity, appears to encrease, 
 and after each fit I rise and walk with less strength and
 
 CONTENTMENT OF MIND. 34 fr- 
 
 agility than before. But the gout has hitherto been 
 confined to my feet and knees ; the pain is never intoler- 
 able ; I am surrounded by all the comforts that art and 
 attendance can bestow ; my sedentary life is amused with 
 books and company, and in each step of my convalescence- 
 I pass through a progress of agreable sensations.] iii. I 
 have already described the merits of my society and 
 situation ; but these enjoyments would be tasteless and 
 bitter, if their possession were not assured by an annual 
 and adequate supply. ^By the painful method of ampu- 
 tation, my father's debts have been compleatly discharged ; 
 the labour of my pen, the sale of lands, the inheritance 
 of a maiden aunt (Mrs. Hester Gibbon ^^), have improved 
 my property, and it will be exonerated on some melan- 
 choly day from the payment of Mrs. Gibbon's jointure.] 
 According to the scale of Switzerland I am a ricli 
 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 : * Qthe ceconomy of my house is settled 
 without avarice or profusion ; at stated periods all my 
 bills are regularly paid, and in the course of my life I 
 have never been reduced to appear, either as plaintiff or 
 
 •'^ My pious aunt and her profane sister are described inider the 
 names of Miranda and Flavia in Law's Serious Call, a popular and 
 powerful book of Devotion. Mr. William Law, a Nonjuror, a Saint, 
 and a wit, had been my father's domestic Tutor. He afterwards retired, 
 with his spiritual daughter Miranda, to live and dye in a Hermitage at 
 Cliffe, in Northamptonshire. 
 
 * This read originally, "My been altered in ink, but not by 
 friends, more especially Lord Slief- Gibbon, to "My friend Lord Shet- 
 field, kindly relieve me." It Las field baa kindly relieved me."
 
 346 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir E. 
 
 defendant, in a court of Justice.] Shall I add that, since 
 the failure of my first wishes, I have never entertained 
 any serious thoughts of a matrimonial connection ? 
 
 I am disgusted with the affectation of men of letters, 
 who complain that they have renounced a substance for 
 a shadow, and that their fame (which sometimes is no 
 insupportable weight) affords a poor compensation for 
 envy, censure, and persecution.'^'^ My own experience, 
 at least, has taught me a very different lesson : twenty 
 happy years have been animated by the labour of my 
 history ; and its success has given me a name, a rank, 
 a character, in the World, to which I should not other- 
 wise have been entitled. The freedom of my writings 
 has, indeed, provoked an implacable tribe ; but as I was 
 safe from the stings, I was soon accustomed to the 
 buzzing of the hornets : my nerves are not tremblingly 
 alive : and my litterary temper is so happily framed, that 
 I am less sensible of pain than pleasure. The rational 
 pride of an author may be offended rather than flattered 
 by vague indiscriminate praise ; but he cannot, he should 
 not, be indifferent to the fair testimonies of private and 
 public esteem. Even his social sympathy may be grati- 
 fied by the idea that, now in the present hour, he is 
 imparting some degree of amusement or knowledge to 
 his friends in a distant land ; that one day his mind will 
 be familiar to the grandchildren of those who are yet 
 
 '<' Mr. d'Alembeii; relates tlmt, as he was walking in the gardens 
 of Sans-souci mth the King of Prussia, Frederic said to hira, " Do yon 
 see that old woman, a poor weeder, asleep on that Sunny bank ? She 
 is probably a more happy Being than either of us." The King and the 
 Philosopher may speak for themselves ; for my part, I do not envy the 
 old woman.
 
 MOEALIZINGS. 
 
 347 
 
 unborn.''^ I cannot boast of the friendship or favour 
 of princes ; the patronage of English litterature has long 
 since been devolved on our booksellers, and the measure 
 of their liberality is the least ambiguous test of our 
 common success. Perhaps the golden mediocrity of my 
 fortune has contributed to fortify my application : [^few 
 books of merit and importance have been composed either 
 in a garret or a palace. A Gentleman, possessed of leisure 
 and competency, may be encouraged by the assurance 
 of an honourable reward ; but wretched is the writer, and 
 Avretched will be the work, where daily diligence is 
 stimulated by daily hunger.] 
 
 The present is a fleeting moment : the past is no more ; 
 and our prospect of futurity is dark and doubtful. This 
 day may possibly be my last ; but the laws of probability, 
 so true in general, so fallacious in particular, still allow 
 me about fifteen years,'^^ and I shall soon enter into the 
 
 ■^1 In the first of ancient or modern Romances (Tom Jones, 1. xiii. 
 c. 1) this proud sentiment, this feast of fancy, is enjoyed by the Genius 
 of Fielding. " Foretell me that some future maid whose gi-andmother 
 is yet unborn, etc." But the whole of this beautiful passage deserves 
 to be read.* 
 
 ''- See Buftbn, p. 224. From our disregard of the possibility of 
 death within the four and twenty hours, he concludes (pp. 56-58) that 
 a chance which falls below or rises above ten thousand to one, will 
 never affect the hopes or fears of a reasonable man. The fact is true, 
 
 * " Come, bright love of fame, &c., 
 fill my ravished fancy with the 
 hopes of charming ages yet to 
 come. Foretel me that some tender 
 maid, whose grandmother is yet 
 unborn, hereafter, when, under the 
 fictitious name of Sophia, she reads 
 the real worth which once existed 
 in my Charlotte, shall from her 
 sympathetic breast send forth the 
 heaving sigh. Do thou teach me 
 
 not only to foresee but to enjoy, 
 nay even to feed on, future praise. 
 Comfort me by the solemn assur- 
 ance that, when the little parlour 
 in which I sit at this moment shall 
 be reduced to a worse furnished 
 box, I shall be read with honour 
 by those who never knew nor saw 
 me, and whom I shall neither know 
 nor see." — Book xiii. chap. 1.
 
 348 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu E. 
 
 period which, as the most agreable of his long life, was 
 selected by the judgement and experience of the sage 
 Fontenelle. His choice is approved by the eloquent 
 historian of Nature, who fixes our moral happiness to the 
 mature season, in which our passions are supposed to 
 be calmed, our duties fullfilled, our ambition satisfied, 
 our fame and fortune established on a solid basis.''^ I 
 am far more inclined to embrace than to dispute this 
 comfortable doctrine : I will not suppose any praemature 
 decay of the mind or body ; but I must reluctantly 
 observe that two causes, the abbreviation of time and 
 the failure of hope, will always tinge with a browner 
 shade the evening of life. 1. The proportion of a part 
 to the Avhole is the only standard by which we can 
 measure the length of our existence. At the age of 
 twenty, one year is a tenth, perhaps, of the time which 
 has elapsed within our consciousness and memory ; at 
 the age of fifty it is no more than a fortieth, and this 
 relative value continues to decrease till the last sands 
 are shaken by the hand of death. This reasoning may 
 seem metaphysical, but on a tryal it will be found 
 satisfactory and just. 2. The warm desires, the long 
 expectations of youth, are founded on the ignorance of 
 themselves and of the World : they are gradually damped 
 by time and experience, by disappointment or possession ; 
 
 but our courage is the effect of thoughtlessness rather than of reflec- 
 tion. If a public letter}' was drawn for the choice of an immediate 
 victim, and if our name were inscribed on one of the ten thousand 
 tickets, should we be perfectly easy ? 
 
 "^ See Buffon, p. 413. In private conversation, that gi'eat and 
 amiable man added the weight of his own experience ; and this 
 autumnal felicity might be exemplified in the lives of Voltaire, Hume, 
 and many other men of letters.
 
 MORALIZINGS. 349 
 
 and after the middle season the crowd must be content 
 to remain at the foot of the mountain, while the few 
 who have climbed the summit aspire to descend or expect 
 to fall. In old age, the consolation of hope is reserved 
 for the tenderness of parents, who commence a new life 
 in their children ; the faith of enthusiasts Avho sing 
 Hallelujahs above the clouds,''* and the vanity of authors 
 who presume the immortality of their name and 
 writings. 
 
 LAUSA>rN-E, March 2, 1791. 
 
 ^■^ This coelestial hope is confined to a small number of the Elect, 
 and we must deduct: (1) All the mere philosophers, who can only 
 speculate about the immortality of the soul. (2) All the earthly 
 Christians, who repeat without thought or feeling the words of their 
 Catechism. (3) All the gloomy fanatics, who are more strongly affected 
 by the fear of Hell, than by the hopes of Heaven. " Strait is the way 
 and narrow is the gate, and few there be who find it."
 
 THE MEMOIKS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 EDWARD GIBBON 
 
 WITH 
 
 VAEIOUS OBSERVATIONS AND EXCUESIONS 
 
 BY HIMSELF.
 
 [MEMOIRS OF MY OWN LIFE.* 
 
 -«<$4- 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction — Account of my family — My grandfather— My father — 
 My birth in the year 1737 — My infancy — My first education 
 and studies.] 
 
 In the fifty -second year of my age, after the completion 
 of a l^toilsome] and successful work, I now propose to 
 employ some moments of my leisure in reviewing the 
 simple transactions of a private and litterary 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 labour or design, the 
 appearances 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 i3ublic eye till the author 
 shall be removed from the reach of criticism or ridicule.f 
 
 * Memoir A. The earliest, bon, in bis communications with 
 
 1788-9. Lord Sheffield printed me on the subject of his Me- 
 
 from this only pars. 1, 2, and 3, moirs, a subject which he bad not 
 
 partiaUy. mentioned to any other person, ex- 
 
 t This passage is found in this pressed a determination of publish- 
 alone of the sketches. " Mr. Gib- iug them in his lifetime; and never 
 
 •^ 2 A
 
 354 
 
 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 [The reasons and examples which may furnish some 
 Apology will be reserved for the last chapter of these 
 Memoirs, when the order of time will lead me to account 
 for this vain undertaking. 
 
 A Philosopher may reasonably despise the pride of 
 ancestry ; and, if the philosopher himself be a plebeian, 
 his own pride will be gratified by the indulgence of such 
 contempt. It is an obvious truth that parts and virtue 
 cannot be transmitted with the inheritance of estates 
 and titles ; and that even the claim of our legal descent 
 must rest on a basis not perhaps sufficiently firm, the 
 unspotted chastity of all our female progenitors. Yet 
 in every age and country the common sense or common 
 prejudice of mankind has agreed to respect the son of 
 a respectable father, and each successive generation is 
 supposed to add a new link to the chain of hereditary 
 splendour.] 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 sentiment and propriety of conduct 
 which is guarded from dishonour by their own and the 
 public esteem. If we read of some illustrious line, so 
 ancient that it has no beginning, so worthy that it ought 
 to have no end, we sympathize in its various fortunes ; nor 
 can we blame the generous enthusiasm or even the harm- 
 less vanity of those who are associated to the honours 
 of its name. In the study of past events our curiosity 
 
 appears to have departed from that 
 resolution, excepting in one of his 
 letters, 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 conversation, how- 
 ever, not long before his death, I 
 
 suggested to him that, if he should 
 make them a full image of his mind, 
 he would not have nerves to pTiblisli 
 them,auiltherefore that they should 
 be posthumous. He answered, 
 rather eagerly, that he was deter- 
 mined to publish them in his life- 
 time." — Sheffield.
 
 PEIDE OF DESCENT. 355 
 
 is stimulated by the immediate or indirect reference to 
 ourselves ; [within its own precincts a local history is 
 always popular, and the connection of a family is more 
 clear and intimate than that of a kingdom, a province, 
 or a city. For my own part, could I draw my pedigree 
 from a General, a statesman, or a celebrated author, I 
 should study their lives or their writings with the dili- 
 gence of filial love, and I suspect that from this casual 
 relation some emotions of pleasure — shall I say of vanity ? 
 — might arise in my breast. Yet I will add that I should 
 take more delight in their personal merit than in the 
 memory of their titles or possessions, that I should be 
 more affected by litterary than by martial fame ; and 
 that I would rather descend from Cicero than from 
 Marius, from Chaucer than from one of the first Com- 
 panions of the Garter. The family of Confucius is, in 
 my opinion, the noblest upon Earth. Seventy authentie 
 Generations have elapsed from that Philosopher to the 
 present Chief of his posterity, who reckons one hundred 
 and thirty-five degrees from the Emperor Hoang-ti, the 
 father, as it is believed, of an illustrious line which has 
 now flourished in China four thousand four hundred and 
 twenty-five years. I have exposed my private feelings, 
 
 as I shall always do, without scruple or reserve Let 
 
 every reader, whether noble or plebeian, examine his 
 own conscience on the same subject.] 
 
 That these sentiments are just, or at least natural, 
 I am the more inclined to believe, since I do not feel 
 myself interested in the cause, since I can derive from 
 my ancestors neither glory nor shame.* QI had long and 
 
 * From this ■ point onward this Memoir has not hitherto been 
 published.
 
 :356 gibbon's autobiography. [MemoikA. 
 
 modestly acquiesced in the knowledge of my two imme- 
 diate predecessors, a country gentleman and a wealthy 
 merchant. Beyond these I found neither tradition nor 
 memorial ; and as our Genealogy was never a topic of 
 family conversation, it might seem probable that my 
 grandfather, the Director of the South Sea Company, 
 was himself a son of the Earth, who by his industry — 
 his honest industry perhaps — had raised himself from 
 the Work-house or the Cottage. It is not two years since 
 I acquired in a foreign land some domestic intelligence 
 of my own family, and this intelligence was conveyed 
 to Switzerland from the heart of Germany. I had formed 
 an acquaintance with Mr. Langer, a lively and ingenious 
 Scholar, while he resided at Lausanne as precejitor to the 
 Hereditary prince of Brunswich. On his return to his 
 proper station of librarian to the Ducal library of 
 Wolfenhuttel, he accidentally found among some litterary 
 rubbish a small, old English Volume of Heraldry, in- 
 scribed with the name of John Gibhon. From the title 
 only, Mr. Langer judged that it might be an acceptable 
 present to his friend : and he judged rightly, for I soon 
 convinced myself that the author was not only my name- 
 sake, but my kinsman. To his book I am indebted for 
 the best and most curious information; but in my last 
 visit to England I was tempted to indulge a curiosity 
 which had been excited by this odd discovery. Some 
 Wills, parish-registers, and monumental inscriptions were 
 consulted at my request, and my enquiries were assisted 
 by Mr. BrooJce, the Somerset Herald, whose knowledge 
 deserves my applause, and whose friendly industry is 
 entitled to my thanks. 
 
 The first authentic record of my family shall be given
 
 EAULY KENTISH TRADITIONS. 357 
 
 in the disqualifying words of Joliii Gibbon, Blue-mantle 
 Poursuivant, who will soon become an acquaintance of 
 the reader. After renouncing the vanities of this world, 
 and closing by an et caetera the mention of some titles 
 and alliances, Ne videar vanitati Genealogicse nimis- 
 nimium indulgere. 
 
 " Et genus et proavos et quis non fecimns '\\>^\ 
 Vix ea nostra voco " — 
 
 he adds with a modest cunning, "Nedum mentionem 
 sum facturus Gihho7ios terras tenuisse et possedisse in 
 JRolvenden, Anno 1326, vicesimo Edwardi secundi, Gib- 
 ho7iorum familioe meminit, Villare Anglicanum, pp. 72, 
 73, 120, 206, 296, ter 391, et inter errata prioris tabulae 
 ad p. 299 respicientia." He afterwards mentions their 
 possessions in the neighbouring parish of Benenden ; and 
 I have endeavoured to form some idea of the ancient 
 state of the Country in which they appear to have been 
 seated since the beginning of the fourteenth Century. 
 The adjacent hundreds of Rolvenden and Tenterden form 
 one of the most southern districts of Kent, with Sussex 
 to the West, the isle of Oxney to the south, and Romney 
 Marsh to the East. A part of the maritime coast has 
 been gradually acquired by the retiring of the sea ; since 
 the village of Newenden, now at the distance of some 
 miles, is supposed by Cambden to be the Roman Ande- 
 rida, a town and harbour which had been chosen for a 
 naval station against the incursions of the Saxon pyrates. 
 The more inland tract, still denominated the Weald, was 
 a portion of the great forest of Anderida, which over- 
 spread the adjacent counties of Kent, Sussex, Surrey, 
 and Hampshire, and long afforded a retreat to the fugitive 
 Britons. By the wise policy of Edward III., a Cloth
 
 358 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoii: A. 
 
 manufactory, long since decayed, was establislied in the 
 towns of Cranbroke, Tenterden, and Benenden, and the 
 rude natives were instructed by a colony of Flemings 
 about the time of the first appearance of my ancestors. 
 
 From that period to the present day the Gibbons 
 have flourished, or at least subsisted, near five hundred 
 years in the same district of Kent. Their rank in society 
 is defined by the appellation of Esquire, in an age when 
 that title was less promiscuously bestowed. The property 
 of the elder branch, the Gibbons of Eolvenden, now 
 amounts to about five hundred pounds a year, without 
 much encrease, as it should seem, or much diminution of 
 their ancient patrimony. They do not appear to have 
 been distinguished by the virtues or vices of an active 
 spirit. From father to son they succeded each other in 
 rural obscurity ; and if I am asked about their lives and 
 characters, I can only answer — 
 
 " Go ! search it there, where to be born and dye 
 Of rich and poor makes all the history." 
 
 One only of the name left behind him a monument 
 more conspicuous than the gravestone of a parish church- 
 yard. In a grant of the thirteenth year of the reign of 
 Edward III. (a.d. 1340) John Gibbon is styled Marinarius, 
 (Marmorarius) Eegis, the King's chief Marbler, master- 
 mason, or Surveyor of his stone-works : no contemptible 
 office, says Blue-mantle, who is jealous of the honour of 
 his namesake. "For Weaver (p. 582) of his funeral 
 monuments tells you, that such a one, a Marmorarius 
 was Armiger Illustrissimi principis Richardi secundi 
 Eegis Anglise." It is more than suj^posed (says he) that 
 John Gibbon was the principal architect in the building 
 Queensborough Castle. At a time when the English
 
 JOHN GIBBON, MARMOEARIUS. 359 
 
 fioast was infested by the French and Flemings, this 
 strong and stately fortress was erected on the west side 
 of the isle of Sheppey, to guard the entrance of the river 
 Medway. It was denominated from the heroic Queen, 
 Philippa of Hainault, and it is praised by the royal 
 ibimder as a castle in a pleasant situation, a terror to 
 his enemies and a comfort to his subjects. The reward 
 which he bestowed on the Architect bespeaks him no 
 vulgar mechanic. By a grant, which is still exstant, 
 Edward III. invested John Gibbon with the profits of 
 the passage between Sandwich and Stonar, in the isle of 
 Thanet. I know not how long this favour was enjoyed 
 by the Architect or his family, but it has long since been 
 abolished by the lapse of time. 
 
 In the primitive institution a coat of arms was the 
 symbol of real armour, a representation of the shield and 
 helmet of the Warrior. His motto was the cry of battle, 
 at whose well-known sound the followers were accustomed 
 to charge and rally under the banner of their Chief. In 
 these days of freedom the unmeaning badge of vanity is 
 assumed by all and disputed by none; and every man 
 who has money to buy a carriage may blazon, if he please, 
 his fancied arms on the jjannels. But there was an inter- 
 mediate period in which the Gentry of England was 
 discriminated by the use of armorial coats, when the 
 science of quarters and colours was defined by the College 
 of Heralds, and when a plebeian usurper would have been 
 rejected and punished by the Court of the Earl-Marshal. 
 I do not challenge the honours of ancient chivalry ; but 
 as early as the reign of Elizabeth the Gibbons of Kent 
 were entitled to the same arms which I now claim by 
 descent, though I may not perhaps describe them with
 
 o 
 
 60 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 the accuracy of technical language. " A Lyon, rampant, 
 gardantj between three scallop-shells, silver on a field 
 azure." They are thus translated by the Bluemantle- 
 poursuivant in his Latin verses which he subjoins to a 
 picture of the arms — 
 
 " Symbola vera super data sunt auctoris honesti ; 
 Erectus Leo stans inter conchylia terna 
 (Ora sua obvertens) onus album, cserula parma est." 
 
 He records a whimsical instance of the revenge of 
 his Godfather, Edmond Gibbon, who, with the license of 
 Sir William Segar, King-at-arms, exchanged the three 
 scallop-shells for three Ogresses. " He assumed this new 
 coat out of distaste against three ladies, his kinswomen, 
 daughters of Gervase Gibbon, of the Pump. Frances 
 married Sir Kobert Points, Knight of the Bath ; Elianor 
 married to Sir John Crook : and Grizeld married to Sir 
 John Lawrence, Knight and Baronet, who lies buried at 
 Chelsy in Middlesex, in a chappel belonging to (and re- 
 edified by) herself, with a fair mural monumental remem- 
 brance. The falling out was about the will of Edmund 
 Gibbon, founder of the free school in Benenden, the next 
 parish to Kolvenden aforesaid." The three Ladies were 
 uncourteously described under the form of Gigantic 
 cannibals, and their adversary reserved the Lyon as the 
 emblem of his own warfare and defence against the female 
 monsters. But this unchristian vindictive spirit was re- 
 nounced by Edmond Gibbon himself or by his heir : he 
 lyes buried in the Temple Church, London (in the walks 
 or western part) ; with a fair monument, against a pillar ; 
 and the harmless scallop-shells are restored to their place 
 in the first quarter of his armorial coat. 
 
 My lineal ancestor in the fifth degree, Kobert Gibbon
 
 GIBBON'S ANCESTRY. 361 
 
 of Rolvenden, Esquire, was Captain of the Kentish militia ; 
 and as he died in the year 1618, it may be presumed that 
 he had appeared in arms at the time of the Spanish 
 invasion. His wife was Margaret Phillips, daughter of 
 Edward Phillips de la Weld in Tenterden, and of Kose 
 his wife, daughter of George Whetnal of East-Peckham, 
 Esq""*^. By this last marriage John Gibbon the Herald — 
 did his modesty allow him — might connect his family 
 with many respectable names of the Gentry of England : 
 " Omitto Bercleos de Beauston, Hextallos, Ellenbriggos, 
 Claverleos, et Whetnallos Cestrenses, Equestri dignitate 
 olim nobiles." Peckham, the seat of the Whetnalls of 
 Kent, is mentioned — not, indeed, much to its honour — in 
 the Memoires du Comte de Grammont ; a classic work, the 
 delight of every man and woman of taste to whom the 
 French language is familiar. It was at Peckham, la 
 triste Peckham, that the fair and inanimate Wliitnell 
 (poupee jusqu'a la mort resta la blanche Whitnell) 
 passed so many gloomy hours with an husband qui aimoit 
 mieux feuilleter de vieux livres que de jeunes appas. It 
 was there that she received the visit of Mademoiselle 
 Hamilton, her cousin ; that she sighed in the absence of 
 George Hamilton ; that she felt the propriety of reward- 
 ing a faithful lover. If her marriage had preceded our 
 alliance, I would not so confidently boast of my descent 
 from the Whetnals of Peckham. 
 
 Yet it is from this union that I claim the most 
 illustrious of my ancestors, James, Lord Say and Sele, 
 who, in the reign of Henry VI., was Governor of Dover, 
 Warden of the Cinq-ports, Constable of the Tower, 
 Lord Chamberlain and Lord High Treasurer of England. 
 After the marriage of Queen Margaret he was accused by
 
 362 gibbon's autobiography. [Memoir a. 
 
 the commons of delivering Maine and Anjou to the 
 French ; and to appease the popular discontent, this 
 favourite and perhaps innocent Minister was sequestered 
 from his office and then committed to the Tower. But 
 neither his dignity nor his disgrace could save him from 
 the blind rage of the Kentish Insurgents and their leader, 
 Jack Cade. Lord Say was dragged from the asylum of 
 his prison, and after a mock-tryal at Guild-hall, more 
 illegal, than any act of which he was accused, his head 
 was struck off, and borne in triumph about the street. 
 The charge against him, as it is stated by Jack Cade in 
 the words of Shakespeare, cannot, I believe, be strictly 
 maintained ; but it is of such a nature as would make a 
 man of letters proud of his descent from a martyr of 
 learning. " Thou hast most traitorously " (says the rude 
 clown) " corrupted the youth of the realm, in erecting a 
 grammar school : and whereas, before, our forefathers had 
 no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast 
 caused printing to be used ; and, contrary to the King, his 
 crown, and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will 
 be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that 
 usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable 
 words as no christian ear can endure to hear." The 
 name of the Lord Treasurer, beheaded in the year 1450, 
 was Fiennes, and his family, which is still enrolled in the 
 British, had been settled in England from the time of 
 King Stephen. From the Co-heiress of a family still 
 more ancient and honourable than his own, he inherited 
 the Barony of Say, to which he was restored in full 
 parliament. Elizabeth, his daughter, married William 
 Cromer, twice Sheriif of Kent, and the son of a Lord 
 Mayor of London. Their son, Sir James Cromer, was the
 
 LONDON GIBBONS. 363 
 
 father of Anne, the wife of William Whetnal of Peckham ; 
 (George, their son, was the father of the above-mentioned 
 Kose, the mother of Margaret Phillips, the wife of Eobert 
 Gibbon of Rolvenden. And thus, through the medium 
 of four female alliances, I derive my lineage in the 
 eleventh degree from the Lord Treasurer. 
 
 But, alas! these honours are obliterated, and my 
 scutcheon is irretrievably stained if we adopt the lofty 
 prejudices of French and German nobility. I cannot 
 deny that the younger branch of the Gibbons of Kent 
 migrated, in the reign of James I. from the Country to 
 the City, and that they persevered during three genera- 
 tions in the profession of trade. Eobert, the younger 
 son of the above-mentioned Robert Gibbon of Eolvenden, 
 Esq'■^ became a citizen of London and a member of the 
 Cloth- workers' company. His son Matthew was a Linnen- 
 draper in Leadenhall street in the parish of St. Andrew, 
 Undershaft ; and the son of Matthew, Edward Gibbon, my 
 grandfather, was engaged in various branches of foreign 
 and domestic commerce before he was elected a Director 
 of the South sea Company. These facts I can relate 
 without a blush : the good-sense of the English has 
 embraced a system more conducive to national prosperity ; 
 the character of a merchant is not esteemed incompatible 
 with that of a Gentleman, and the first names of the 
 peerage are enrolled in the books of our trading Corpora- 
 tions. The descent of landed property to the eldest son 
 is secured by the common law, and though Kent, under 
 the name of Gavelkind, retains a more equal partition, 
 this provincial custom is defeated by the practise of 
 settlements and entails. The pride and indolence of 
 younger Ijrothers might frequently acquiesce in the life
 
 364 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mi:moik A. 
 
 of a William Wimble, so incomparably described by the 
 Spectator : but a more rational pride must often prevail 
 over their indolence, and urge them to seek in the World 
 the comforts of independence. Since the auspicious reign 
 of Elizabeth the commerce of England had opened a 
 thousand channels of industry and wealth, and the more 
 splendid ressources which now divert a Gentleman's 
 younger sons from the mercantile profession were much 
 less frequent and beneficial. After the reformation the 
 Church assumed a graver and less attractive form, and 
 though many might be content to sleep in the possession 
 of a patrimonial living, the bench of bishops was long 
 filled by indigent scholars, before the gentry, or at least 
 the nobility, became fully sensible of the value of a calling 
 which bestows riches and honours without requiring either 
 genius or aj^plication. In every age the youth of England 
 lias been distinguished by a martial spirit, and the 
 subjects of Elizabeth and her successors sought every 
 occasion of danger and glory by sea and land. But these 
 occasions were rare and voluntary ; nor could they afford 
 such an ample and permanent provision as is now supplied 
 by an hundred regiments, and an hundred ships of the line. 
 Our civil establishment has gradually swelled to its 
 present magnitude ; nor did India unfold her capacious 
 bosom to the merit or fortune of every needy adventurer. 
 The common alternative was the bar and the counter ; 
 but the success of a lawyer, unless he be endowed with 
 superior talents, is difficult and doubtful ; the various 
 occupations of commerce are adapted to the meanest 
 capacity, and a modest competency is the sure reward of 
 frugality and labour, since those humble virtues have so 
 often sufficed for the acquisition of riches.
 
 MATTHEW GIBBON. 365 
 
 Kobert Gibbon the younger died in London in the 
 year 1643, and his alliance may prove that he had not 
 degraded himself by the profession of a Citizen and a 
 clothier. He married the sister of Thomas Edgar, Esq""*^, 
 Justice of Peace and Eecorder of Ipswich, and their son, 
 the Blue-mantle poursuivant, is well pleased to blazon his 
 maternal with his paternal coat 
 
 " Maternus clypeus comitatur jure paternum 
 Cujus subsequitur Latia descriptio prosa." 
 
 But this poetical vein was exhausted, and he is content 
 to describe in Latin and English prose the modern arms 
 of the Edgars, which they assumed by patent in the reign 
 of Henry VIII., and afterwards to depict the armorial 
 bearings of their ancient and primitive coat. But enough 
 of these solemn trijfles — I had rather observe that the 
 Edgars, who spread into three branches, had flourished 
 more than four hundred years in the County of Suffolk. 
 The most eminent person of the race appears to have 
 been Sir Gregory Edgar, a wealthy Serjeant-at-law, who 
 died in the year 1506. " He took to wife Anne one of 
 the daughters of Simon Wiseman, a man valiant and 
 noble. This Woman was graced with modesty, manners, 
 innocency, affability, and good parentage : and accept- 
 able to all, and so liberal to the poor as was incredible." 
 Such women at all times are rare, and it is a pleasure to 
 descend from one of them. 
 
 Of the life and character of Matthew Gibbon, the son 
 of Kobert, I am totally ignorant, and must be content to 
 repeat that he was a Linneu-draper in Leadenhall Street. 
 After his decease, Hester, his relic, remarried with 
 Richard Acton, third son of Sir Walter Acton, Baronet, 
 who exercised the same trade, in the same street ; and in
 
 366 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Mkmoir A. 
 
 due time their union was confirmed by the marriage of 
 the son of Hester and the daughter of Kichard by their 
 former marriages. This lady, who survived both her 
 husbands, and lived to a great age, was of an active and 
 notable spirit. While her son, my Grandfather Edward 
 Gibbon, was in Flanders, where he had a contract for 
 supplying King William's arms, his mother managed all 
 his mercantile affairs at home ; and I have seen some of 
 her letters, in a character no longer legible, and on 
 business no longer interesting. Besides my grandfather, 
 she had another son, Thomas Gibbon, who became Dean 
 of Carlisle. In my childhood I have known 7m son, 
 Williams Gibbon, a drunken Jacobite parson, who obtained 
 by party -interest the Eectory of Bridewell. 
 
 Another son, I know not whether elder or younger, 
 of Matthew * Gibbon was John the Herald, without whose 
 friendly aid I should be a stranger to my own family. 
 In his book he has contrived to scatter many hints of 
 his own life, and he thus records, in Latin verse, the 
 important event of his birth, on the 3rd of November, 
 of the year 1629 — 
 
 " Tertia lux No7ii, mihi vitam contulit imbris, 
 Anno millesimo Christi sexcentesiraoque, 
 Vigesimo nono (prse nona vesperis hora), 
 Martyris et Caroli quarto sub Sole Beati.'''' 
 
 After passing through the studies of the Grammar 
 school, a necessary step, John Gibbon became a member 
 of Jesus College at Cambridge, and the blazon of its 
 coat and crest, which he received from the President Dr. 
 Sherman, is piously inserted in his work. With the same 
 
 * Gibbon evidently wrote " Matthew " here in error for " Robert."
 
 JOHN GIBBON. 367 
 
 gratitude he celebrates the retired content with which he 
 was blessed at Allesborough, in Worcestershire, at the 
 seat of his good Lord Thomas, Lord Coventry ; and from 
 the comparison of his own felicity with that of Mr. 
 Hobbes in the Devonshire family, I should guess that 
 my kinsman exercised the office of a domestic tutor. 
 From this peaceful retreat he launched into the World, 
 and though he would not, or more probably could not, 
 relate his battles and sieges, he finds or makes an oppor- 
 tunity of deciding a point of military discipline, " I 
 remember " (says he) " when I was a soldier, I have heard 
 some of the Veterani discourse concerning the fashion of 
 belts, who averred that the shoulder-belt is very dangerous 
 for a horseman ; for a strong man, taking advantage of 
 it, easily dismounts his adversary, whereas the waist- or 
 middle-belt prevents this inconvenience." He must 
 have been soon released from the service, since he could 
 indulge his curiosity in visiting foreign countries ; he 
 mentions France and the Netherlands with the pleasure 
 and knowledge of a traveller, and expresses his gratitude 
 to the Isle of Jersey, " ubi me quondam jucunde vixisse 
 jam nunc juvat meminisse." But his excursions were not 
 confined to Europe. " A great part of 1659, till February 
 of the year following, I lived (says John Gibbon) in 
 Virginia, being most hospitably entertained by the 
 Honourable Colonel Eichard Lee, sometime Secretary 
 of State there, and who, after the King's martyrdom, 
 hired a Dutch vessel, freighted her himself, went to 
 Brussels, surrendered up Sir William Barcklaie's old 
 commission for the government of the province, received 
 a new one from his present Majesty — a loyal action and 
 well deserving my commendation." In that rising
 
 368 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [MEMom A. 
 
 colony he once saw a war-dance acted by the natives. 
 The Dancers performed their martial evolutions, some- 
 times retreating and sometimes advancing towards the 
 Spectators, with ferocious countenances and brandishing 
 their Tamahawks. But what most forcibly affected his 
 eye and fancy was the painting of their shields and 
 bodies, in which he recognized the regular blazon of 
 colours and symbols. " Some of the dancers were painted 
 from forehead to foot — Party per pale, Gules and sahle ; 
 others, partij per /esse of the same colours : At which I 
 exceedingly wondered, and concluded that Heraldry was 
 ingrafted naturally into the sense of human race. 
 If so, it deserves a greater esteem than is nowadays put 
 upon it." Such an idea, when applied to the vainest insti- 
 tution of modern art, displays a degree of enthusiasm 
 for a favourite study, which is at once ridiculous and 
 respectable. 
 
 I know of no purer felicity than that of a man who 
 can gratify his taste in the exercise of his profession, and 
 such was the good fortune of my kinsman after his return 
 to England, his marriage, and his settlement (in February, 
 1665) in a house in the cloyster of St. Catherine's 
 hospital, near the tower, which devolved to his nephew, 
 my grandfather. In the year 1671 he was admitted into 
 the College of Heralds by the style and title of Blue- 
 Mantle Poursuivant ; and it is with a mixture of gratitude 
 and pride that he owns his obligations to a Judge as well 
 as a patron, the learned Sir William Dugdale, Garter 
 King-at-Arms, and the first English Antiquarian of the 
 age. He glories in the friendship of the curious Mr. 
 Ashmole, and of respectable Physicians, Dr. John Betts 
 and Dr. Nehemiah Grew ; and acknowledges the courteous
 
 BLUE-MANTLE POURSUIVANT. 369 
 
 encouragement which himself and his book received from 
 Sir Stephen Fox, one of the Lords of the Treasury. 
 This trusty servant of Charles II., in his exile and after 
 his restoration, is compared to the faithful Achates ; and 
 John Gibbon applies a prophecy of Solomon (" As-tu vii un 
 homme habile en son travail ? il sera an service des Rois," 
 of the French version of the Proverbs), which has been 
 more conspicuously verified in the son and grandson of 
 Sir Stephen Fox. The happiness of Blue-mantle would 
 have been compleat, if already in his time the art and 
 fashion of Heraldry had not been somewhat decayed. 
 The ceremony of funerals, as accompanied with officers of 
 arms began to be in the wane : in eleven years it was his 
 hard hap to have no more than five turns ; but he grate- 
 fully commemorates the worthy and noble families who 
 so generously conducted their relation. His leisure was 
 employed in smoothing a difficulty which had been felt 
 by Cambden himself — the definition in Latin of the terms 
 and symbols of heraldry ; and his technical language, were 
 the object of more use and importance, might deserve as 
 much praise as the Botanical idiom of Linnaeus. In the 
 Introductio ad Latinam blazoniam published at London, 
 1682, the Author displays some wit and much zeal, a 
 perfect knowledge of English Genealogy, and a familiar 
 acquaintance with the French and Spanish languages. 
 An English text is adorned with many Latin sentences 
 and verses of his own composition; his quotations from 
 the poets are apt and frequent ; but in his own practise 
 he claims an exemption from the laws of prosody. Of 
 the intrinsic merit of his work I am not qualified to 
 decide, and I much doubt whether the more rigid heralds 
 would approve his heresy of inscribing metal on metal, 
 
 2b
 
 370 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 and colour on colour. I am apprehensive that on this 
 question they will not be satisfied with the authorities of 
 Ovid and of Scripture ; with the shield of Nileus in the 
 Metamorphoses (Iv.) — 
 
 " Clypeo quoque flumina septera 
 Argento partim, partim ccelaverat auro " — 
 
 nor with the silver apples on a golden ground in the 
 Proverbs (xxvii.) ; yet, as Solomon was the wisest of 
 Kings, he could not, says the Author, be an ignorant 
 herald. From this small volume, a duodecimo of one 
 hundred and sixty-five pages, John Gibbon appears to 
 have expected high and lasting reputation. In the title- 
 page he loudly proclaims, " No work of this nature 
 ■extant in our English tongue, nor, absit gloriari, of its 
 method and circumstances in anv foreign lansfuasre what- 
 soever." And at the conclusion of his labours he sings 
 in a strain of self-congratulation — 
 
 " Usque hue conigitur Romana Blasonia per me, 
 Verborumque dehinc Barbara forma cadat. 
 Hie liber in meritum si forsitan incidet nsum 
 
 Testis rite mese sedulitatis erit 
 Quicquid agat Zoilus ventura fatebitur setas. 
 Artis quod fueram iion Clypeans inops." 
 
 But the succeeding age was ignorant of his name ; and 
 had I not by a strange accident discovered his book, the 
 memory of John Gibbon would have been obliterated in 
 his own family. 
 
 In the last years of Charles II. it was difficult, between 
 the Whigs and Tories, for an Englishman to remain 
 neuter ; the science of hereditary honours is favourable 
 to Monarchy, and the Herald was strenuously attached to 
 the Royal brothers of the house of Stuart. " Tutus sit "
 
 JOHN GIBBON THE HERALD. 371 
 
 (he devoutly exclaims) '• Aiigustissimus Eex Carolus 
 Sancti Felicis festo prospere natiis! Celsissimus Illus- 
 trissimus Dux Jacobus, quern stellam borealem ante 
 multos anuos [prsedicere vates], et universa stirps Eegia 
 A turba fanatica Anti-monarchica ! " He commemorates 
 several pamphlets, such as the Swans Wellcome, the Fla- 
 gelluni Mercurii Antiducalis, the warm effusions of his 
 loyalty, and mentions with some bitterness, his Anta- 
 gonist, " the little 31r. Harry Care, that great writer who 
 scommatically affronts the dread reverence and awe due 
 to Kings and Princes." His enemies, if we may trust his 
 complaints, employed against [him] a base and treacherous 
 stratagem : they interpolated his text, spoilt his Latin ; 
 and when he hailed the aiespicious return of the Duke of 
 York, the unlucky epithet of sitspicious was substituted 
 by a Whig printer, on whom he most heartily bestows 
 the curse of Judas. After such provocations, no wonder if 
 he sought f(jr revenge ; and, as every animal is conscious 
 of its weapons, his revenge is that of an Herald: he 
 blazons, whimsically enough, the coat of the Eepublican 
 faction " Quibus symbolum et insigne est, Bellua 
 multonmi ccqjitum, coloris Diabolici (viz. nigri) in campo 
 sanguineo. Clamor bellicus, Iste est liseres, trucidemus 
 €um et obtineamus hiereditatem. Genius tutelaris non 
 Sanctus Georgius, S. Andreas, S. Patricius. Sed iste 
 Draco magnus, rufus in Apocalypsi memoratus. Dissi- 
 pentur autem ut palea coram vento. Amen." The 
 Revolution was adverse to his principles, his feelings, 
 and his fortune; the Blue-mantle Poursuivant could 
 never ascend to an higher station in the College ; and 
 after the accession of George I. he was suspended from 
 his office till he could bend his conscience to the oath
 
 372 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 of allegiance. The age which he attained, of almost 
 ninety years, is a fair presumption that he was endowed 
 with the health of mind as well as body; and his 
 Philosophic temper is expressed in the following lines — 
 
 " Mortis at incertiim cum teinpus, det Deus apta 
 Conditione siem, semper stans mente paratus 
 
 Interea 
 Magna mihi in votis baud sunt ; dent numina tantura 
 Exiguum Censum servem, simul Integra membra; 
 Mens virtute fruens addatur et iusuper illis." 
 
 Of his wife and children I am ignorant ; of his posterity 
 there is no trace. From some letters and traditions in 
 the College, I understand that John Gibbon was a lover 
 of Astrology, and a member, with Ashmole, Dugdale, etc., 
 of an Astrological Club. Their two favourite sciences 
 were long supported by the vanity and curiosity of Man- 
 kind, and the second of these passions is still more 
 universal and powerful than tlie first. 
 
 From the singular character of the Herald, my uncle 
 in the third ascending degree, I now return to the direct 
 line. By Hester, the wife and widow of his brother 
 Matthew, three links were formed between the Gibbons 
 and the Actons : by her second nuptials with Kichard 
 Acton, by the marriage of their children of the first 
 adventure, and by the union of her daughter with Sir 
 Whitmore Acton. This triple alliance, and esj)ecially 
 the second, gives me a deep and domestic interest in 
 the name and honours of a worthy family, which has 
 flourished in Shropshire since the thirteenth and four- 
 teenth Centuries, which has been propagated by a series 
 of adequate connections, and of which the younger 
 branches have been supported withinit being disgraced
 
 THE ACTONS. 373 
 
 by the profession of trade. lu the eyes ol the Tories, 
 the Actons may claim the merit of firm and untainted 
 loyalty, not only in their distant province far from the 
 vortex of new opinions, but even in the occupations and 
 offices of the Capital. Sir Richard Acton, of a branch 
 now extinct, was created a baronet in 1629 ; in the year 
 1643 he was chosen Lord Mayor of liondon, and was 
 removed by the House of Commons for his attachment 
 to the King, and his opposition to their proceedings. 
 His cousin, Edward Acton of Aldenham the Chief of the 
 elder, was created a Baronet by Charles I. in 1643, a few 
 months after he had erected his standard at Nottingham. 
 Sir Edward was succeeded by Sir Walter, his eldest son, 
 and the father of seven sons, who all exceeded the 
 ordinary proportion of the human stature. One of these, 
 Francis, who died a bachelor in my grandfather's (his 
 nephew's) house at Putney, confessed or boasted that he 
 was a pygmey of six feet two inches, the least of the 
 seven, and he added, in the true spirit of party, that such 
 men had not been born since the Revolution. Of the 
 other brothers, I shall mention three who left a numerous 
 posterity : Sir Edward, the father of Sir Whitmore, who 
 married my grandfather's sister, by whom he had Sir 
 Richard, the present baronet, now almost fourscore years 
 of age ; Richard, the father of my grandmother ; and 
 Walter, whose descendants, by strange accidents, have 
 migrated to foreign Countries. Walter himself and his 
 son Edward passed their lives, a Mercer, and a Goldsmith, 
 in the city of London ; but of the two sons of Edward, 
 the one, who accompanied my father on his travels, was 
 tempted to marry and settle at Besanpon in France, 
 while the other, a Captain in the East India Company's
 
 374 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 service, was invited to command at Leghorn the fleet of 
 the Emperor, Great Duke of Tuscany. The Commodore 
 died a bachelor : the two younger sons of the Physician 
 are still, if they are alive, in the French service ; but the 
 fortune of the elder has been much more singular and 
 splendid. After a visit to England in the year 1762, 
 with the design, perhaps, of obtaining the daughter and 
 heiress of his kinsman. Sir Eichard Acton, he devoted 
 liimself with spirit and success to the naval service of 
 Tuscany and Naples. In the expedition against Algiers, 
 the Chevalier Acton, who commanded a Frigate, was dis- 
 tinguished by his courage and conduct, and his abilities 
 have since raised him to the first honours of the State. 
 The Courts of Versailles and Madrid have laboured in 
 vain to drive him from his station ; and he still enjoys, 
 with the title, or at least the power, of prime Minister, 
 the entire confidence of the King — I should rather say of 
 the Queen — of the two Sicilies. 
 
 Were I possessed of the books and papers of my 
 grandfather, Edward Gibbon, I should not feel much 
 pleasure in stating the balance of his accounts, or the 
 progress of his fortune. Yet he moved in an higher 
 sphere than his two predecessors of commercial and even 
 of political life. Under Lord Oxford's administration he 
 held near four years the office of one of the Commissioners 
 of the Customs; he was afterwards elected one of the 
 Directors of the South-sea Company, and partook of its 
 transient glory ; but in the year 1720 he was buried in 
 its ruins, and the labours of thirty years were blasted in 
 a single day. The act of Parliament Avhich stripped the 
 Directors of the greatest part of their property has been 
 condemned by the more impartial judgement of posterity.
 
 THE SOUTH -SEA COMPANY. 375 
 
 and, M ithoiit suspicion of personal resentment, I may be 
 allowed to prove that the proceedings against those 
 unfortunate men were unjust, illegal, and arbitrary, 
 i. In the year 1711 the South-sea Company had been 
 incorporated by Lord Oxford ; their original stock was 
 composed of near ten millions of the unfunded debt, and 
 the creditors, now transformed into merchants, were 
 invested with an exclusive charter of trade and establish- 
 ment in the South Seas. But their ambition was soon 
 checked by the conclusion of the peace ; the treaty of 
 Utrecht did not afford an adequate compensation ; their 
 commercial privileges were eluded or infringed by the 
 jealousy of Spain ; nor could these new adventurers 
 pretend to rival the firm credit of the Bank, or the rising- 
 greatness of the East India Company. Yet they were 
 encouraged by the favour of the crown and the people, 
 and a project was adopted in the year 1720 for con- 
 solidating in their hands the greatest part of the national 
 debt. They were authorized by parliament to encrease 
 their stock, and to acquire, by subscription or purchase, 
 the redeemable and irredeemable debts on such terms as 
 they should be able to stipulate with the public creditors. 
 Their first operations were seconded by the enthusiasm 
 of the times ; the rapid rise in the price of their stock 
 enabled them to conclude an advantageous bargain ; all 
 parties were united by the lust of gold, and all men 
 rushed forwards to grasp those ideal treasures which were 
 realized only for those Avho had prudence to withdraw 
 before the impending ruin. In these wonderful trans- 
 actions, I am at a loss to discern the precise and specific 
 crime of the Directors ; nor could it be very obvious to 
 the majority of Country Gentlemen who sat as their
 
 376 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoiu A. 
 
 Judges in the house of commons. The least justifiable 
 of their measures, the vague letter of Attorney which 
 was inserted in their books, and unknowingly signed 
 by the thoughtless subscribers, was afterwards ratified 
 at their expence by the authority of parliament. If the 
 directors promised an enormous dividend, if they opened 
 a subscription at one thousand per cent., they were 
 countenanced and almost compelled by the popular 
 frenzy ; nor are they accused, at least they are not 
 convicted, of inflaming that frenzy for their private 
 emolument. They acted under the legal controul of the 
 Lords of the Treasury ; and whatever might be the guilt, 
 the largest share must be assigned to the Earl of Sunder- 
 land, the first Lord, and, above all, to Mr. Aislabie, 
 Chancellor of the Exchequer. Yet these Ministers were 
 peaceably dismissed or imperfectly punished. Their 
 resignation attoned for their offences, and the friendless 
 directors were the victims to appease the blind vehemence 
 of popular resentment, ii. Lord Molesworth, the author 
 of the state of Denmark, confessed in the house of 
 Commons that there was no law to punish the Directors ; 
 but he appealed to the practise of the Komans, who 
 having neglected to provide against the incredible guilt 
 of parricide, applied a new remedy to a new disease, and 
 cast the first criminal into the Eiver, inclosed in a sack. 
 And with this penalty, he mildly added, he himself should 
 be content, were it inflicted on the authors of the present 
 mischief. This inhuman speech was received with 
 applause ; and that every form of justice might be 
 violated, the Directors were refused the common privilege 
 of being heard by their council against a bill which 
 blasted their characters and confiscated their fortunes.
 
 PUNISHMENT OF THE DIRECTORS. 377 
 
 1 will not deny that an ex post facto law, a bill of 
 attainder, may be excused by public necessity. But tht'. 
 state could not be saved by the disgrace or ruin of these 
 men ; nor can the use of example be urged ; since their 
 guilt, were it proved, could scarcely be repeated, iii. It 
 had been first proposed that each director should be 
 allowed, for his future support, one-eighth of his estate. 
 But it was replied with some shew of reason, that, con- 
 sidering the difference of their characters and fortunes, 
 such an equal penalty would be too light for many, and 
 perhaps too heavy for some of these offenders. The 
 case of each man was separately weighed ; but instead of 
 the calm solemnity of judicial proceedings, their honour 
 and fortune were made the topic of hasty conversation, 
 the sport of a lawless majority ; and each member, by a 
 malicious word or a silent vote, might indulge his general 
 spleen or personal malevolence. Injury was aggravated 
 by insult, and insult was embittered by pleasantry. 
 Allowances of twenty pounds or of one shilling were 
 facetiously moved ; and a vague story that such a Director 
 had been formerly concerned in another project, by 
 which some unknown persons had lost their money, was 
 admitted as an evidence of his present guilt. One man 
 was ruined because he had dropt a foolish speech, that 
 his horses should feed upon gold ; and another, because he 
 was grown to such an height of pride and insolence, that 
 he once behaved with impertinence at the treasury, and 
 refused to give a civil answer to persons much above him. 
 All were condemned, absent and unheard, in various and 
 arbitrary fines, which swept away the far greater part of 
 tlieir fortunes. 
 
 Such were once the proceedings of a British parlia-
 
 0.7 
 
 78 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 ment : but it was the same house of Commons which 
 had forfeited the trust of their constituents, and voted 
 their own continuance four years beyond tlieir legal term 
 of existence ; it was the same parliament which passed 
 the Riot-Act, and introduced Martial law in time of 
 peace ; which stripped the Irish peerage of their right 
 of judicature, and had almost strij)ped the Scotch peerage 
 of their right of election. It must be lamented that the 
 Whigs have too often sullied the principles of freedom 
 by the practise of violence and tyranny. 
 
 From these general reflections I must now return 
 to the particular case of my grandfather. When the 
 South-sea Directors were obliged to deliver upon the 
 value of their whole property, he stated his own at the 
 ample sum of one himdred and six thousand five hundred 
 and forty-three pounds five shillings and six pence. The 
 question put in the house of Commons whether Mr. 
 Gibbon's allowance should be ten or fifteen thousand 
 pounds, and it was carried without a division for the 
 smaller sum. 
 
 [Pages 25-30 (inclusive) of the original MSS. are 
 missing.] 
 
 he saw me after the fatal event — the awful silence, the 
 room hung with black, the midday tapers, his sighs and 
 tears, his praises of my mother, whom he called a Saint 
 in Heaven ; his solemn exhortation that I would cherish 
 her memory and copy his (sic) virtues, and the fervour with 
 which he kissed and blessed me as the sole remaining 
 pledge of their loves. That interesting romance of the 
 Abbe Prevot d'Exiles, the Memoires d'un homme de 
 qualite, had lately been translated into English ; and as 
 soon as I read them, the grief of the Marquis on the
 
 THE MALLETS. 379 
 
 death of his beloved Selima most forcibly brought to 
 my mind the situation and behaviour of my poor father. 
 After he could persuade himself to try, not the pleasures, 
 but the consolations of friendship and society, the two 
 houses at Putney which he most familiarly frequented 
 were those of the Gilberts and the Mallets. The former 
 were three maidens of middle age and small fortunes, 
 the sisters of the leaden Gilbert stigmatized by Pope, and 
 w'ho, without either talents or virtue, could ascend the 
 Ecclesiastical ladder as high as the station of Archbishop 
 of York. The younger sister, Emily Gilbert, was a Lady 
 of some spirit and accomplishments, who had been the 
 intimate friend of my mother ; and she secretly aspired 
 to supply as well as to alleviate the widower's loss. But 
 he was exasperated at the first suspicion of her design ; 
 and as his indignation was artfully fomented, he threw 
 himself without reserve into the arms of the Mallets. 
 The Poet's conversation (we may trust Dr. Johnson, an 
 unforgiving enemy) was easy and elegant ; and his wife, 
 though far different from my mother in character and 
 person, was not deficient either in wit or cunning. Theii- 
 society soothed and occupied his grief ; and as they both 
 thought with freedom on the subjects of Eeligion and 
 Government, they successfully laboured to correct the 
 prejudices of his education. My father is introduced in one 
 of Mallet's most agreable poems, entitled. The Wedding 
 Day. The place of the scene is thus described — • 
 
 " Just then, where our good-natured Thames is 
 Some four short miles above St. James's 
 And deigns with silver-streaming wave 
 Th' abodes of Earth-born pride to lave ; 
 Aloft in air two Gods were soaring, 
 While PuTXEY cits beneath lay snoring."
 
 380 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. [Memoui A. 
 
 After some smart dialogue between Cupid and Hymen, 
 the latter points with his torch to the hapjjy couple, and 
 the two Deities agree to invite some select friends— Mr. 
 Waller, Mr. Mitchell (afterwards Minister to the King 
 of Prussia), Colonel Caroline, and his brother, Mr. George 
 Scott, etc. — to celebrate, on the third of October, 1750, 
 the eighth anniversary of their nuptials. While Cupid 
 flies to London — 
 
 " His brother too, with sober cheer 
 For the same end did westward steer. 
 But first a pensive love forlorn 
 Who three long weeping years has borne 
 His torch revers'd, and all around 
 Where once it flam'd with cypress bound, 
 Sent off, to call a neighbouring friend, 
 On whom the mournful train attend : 
 And bid him, tliis one day, at least, 
 For such a pair, at such a feast. 
 Strip off the sable veil, and wear 
 His once gay look and happier air." 
 
 On such a day, at a convivial meeting of his friends, 
 the sorrowful widower might assume or affect his former 
 chearfulness. But his plan of happiness was destroyed : 
 his faithful companion was no more, and my father found 
 himself alone in a World of which the business and 
 amusement were now grown insipid or irksome. At 
 the end of the parliament, he dropt his interest at 
 Southampton, renounced all thoughts of a seat in the 
 house of Commons. London he seldom visited ; he 
 soon forgot the associates of his politicks and pleasures, 
 and by them he was soon forgotten. The residence of 
 Putney was too near and public, and, after some tryals, 
 he resolved to bury liimself in a solitude at his estate 
 of Buriton, near Petersiield, in Hampshire. Society he
 
 GIBBON'S FATHER. 381 
 
 wished to avoid, books coidd not amuse his leisure ; but 
 he depended on the perpetual occupation, the labor actus 
 in orbem of agriculture. To this art he was no stranger, 
 and even at Putney he had delighted in the character 
 of a curious and fashionable farmer. 
 
 Such was truly the most interesting and respectable 
 cause of my father's retirement ; but I may not dissemble 
 that it was precipitated by a motive of a baser alloy, 
 the encreasing disorder of his circumstances. By a wise 
 dispensation, which preserves the balance of riches, idle- 
 ness is the heir of industry ; and the thirst of gain is 
 succeeded by the desire of enjoyment. Qj]conomy is 
 seldom the virtue of a gay and sanguine temper ; my 
 father's youth had been penuriously stinted ; he was 
 dazzled by a sudden influx of gold ; but his possessions 
 proved inadequate to his hopes, and his expences soon 
 exceeded the measure of his income. To this illusion 
 my grandfather had in some degree been accessory, by 
 leaving to his daughters the clearest and most solid 
 parts of his personal fortune, while he bequeathed to his 
 son such unsettled accounts, such complicated plans, as 
 might have been productive in his own hands, but which 
 tended rather to deceive than to enrich a less careful 
 manager. Among these Avas a lucrative contract for 
 supplying the Court of Spain with naval stores, of which 
 large quantities were already deposited in his ware-houses, 
 at Cadiz. In spite of the most solemn engagements,, 
 these effects were sequestered on the rupture between 
 the two nations ; and in the vote which my father gave 
 against the Spanish convention, I must admire either 
 his patriotism or his credulity. He anticipated the pay- 
 ment of his debt, with a large arrear of interest and
 
 382 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoiu A, 
 
 damages, which he confidently expected from the justice 
 of the Catholic King ; but, alas ! on the return of peace, 
 our agents and memorials were referred by the Ministers 
 to the Judges, and by the judges to the ministers, till the 
 obsolete demand has finally evaporated in delay, disappoint- 
 ment, and fruitless cost. Of dress and diversions, of house 
 ;and equipage, the expences may be foreseen, and must be 
 limited; but the gaming-table is a dark and slippery 
 precipice. My father did not enjoy with impunity the 
 honour of being a member of the old club at White's : 
 his contemporaries seemed to think less highly than 
 himself of his skill at Whist ; some large and nameless 
 charges in his books must be placed to the Debtor side 
 of play ; and the tryals to which I have alluded were the 
 a.nxious hours and sleepless nights of his wife, while she 
 felt that too much of her children's fortune was dej)end- 
 ing on a card or a die. By these means his ready money 
 was speedily exhausted, his landed estate ^^as entailed, 
 and as soon as the first debts were contracted, the rapid 
 accumulation of principal and interest increased the want, 
 and diminished the facility of new supplies. His temper 
 was soured by pecuniary embarassments ; and had my 
 mother lived, he must have withdrawn, with more comfort, 
 but with less grace, from a public life in which he coidd 
 not support or retrench his customary figure. But if 
 we search still deeper, we shall discover a third motive 
 of retirement in the natural inconstancy of his disposition, 
 which, perhaps, has been painted by his tutor, Mr. 
 William Law, under the name of Flatus. " Flatus " (says 
 the devout satirist) " is rich and in health : yet always 
 uneasy, and always searching after happiness. Every 
 time you visit him you find some new project in his
 
 WILLIAM LAW. 383 
 
 head ; he is eager upon it, as something that is more 
 worth his while, and will do more for him than anything 
 that is already past. Every new thing so seizes him, 
 that if you were to take him from it, he would think 
 iiimself quite undone. His sanguine temper and strong 
 passions promise him so much happiness in everything, 
 that he is always cheated, and satisfied with nothing." 
 3Ir. Law's wit then pursues him through the various 
 pursuits of dress, gaming, diversions, drinking, hunt- 
 ing, building, riding, and travelling, with each of 
 which Flatus is by turns delighted and disgusted. All 
 these featm'es cannot, indeed, be applied to the same 
 person; and as the second Edition of The serious call 
 to a devout and holy life was published in the year 
 1732, the prophetic eye of the tutor must have discerned 
 the butterfly in the caterpillar. But our family tradition 
 attests his laudable or malicious design, and from my 
 own observation, I can acknowledge the skill of the 
 painter and the likeness of the portrait. 
 
 I have mentioned my two aunts on the father's side — 
 the two Ogresses, as my old kinsman would have styled 
 them — who were so plentifully endowed at our expence. 
 Their names were Catherine and Hester, though I do 
 not pretend to ascertain the order of their respective 
 births. Their characters were widely different, and the 
 profane Flavia (in the Serious call) is the sister of the 
 holy Miranda. The character of the former is not 
 marked by any scandalous vice, and, to aggravate her 
 guilt, the artful satirist allows her a decent sense and 
 practise of the externals of Keligion. But she was devoid 
 of true piety. Vanity was the idol of her heart, and her 
 time, her thoughts, and her expences were all devoted
 
 384 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 to herself and to the World. After an hnmorous j)ictiire 
 of her Sunday, Mr. Law makes the following calculation : 
 " If Flavia lives ten years longer, she will have spent 
 about fifteen hundred and sixty Sundays after this 
 manner. She will have wore above two hundred different 
 suits of Cloaths. Out of this thirty year of her life fifteen 
 of them will have been dispo[sed] off in bed : and of the 
 remaining fifteen, fourteen of them will have been con- 
 sumed in eating, drinking, dressing, visiting, conversa- 
 tion, reading and hearing plays and romances ; at Opera's 
 assemblies, balls, and diversions. For you may reckon all 
 the time that she is up thus spent, except about an hour 
 and half that is disposed of at Church most Sundays in the 
 year. With great management, and under mighty rules 
 of oeconomy, she will have spent sixty hundred pounds " 
 (he much underrates her fortune) " upon herself ; bating 
 only some shillings, crowns, or half-crowns that have 
 o-one from her in accidental charities." — Her eternal 
 damnation he will not absolutely pronounce, but he is 
 bold to say that she can have no hopes of being saved. 
 Wherever she be at present, both Flavia and her husband 
 were deceased before my remembrance. Miss Catherine 
 Gibbon had married Captain Edward EUiston, whom my 
 grandfather in his Will calls his nephew — a Gentleman 
 who had acquired a competent fortune for those times 
 in the service of the East India Com2)any. They left 
 one only daughter, Catherine Elliston, about two years 
 older than myself; and from both her parents, as well 
 as from the savings of a long minority, she was possessed, 
 on the day of her own marriage, of more than sixty 
 thousand pounds. IMy father was left one of her 
 guardians; but as he was ill qualified, in his widowed
 
 CATHERINE ELLISTON. 385 
 
 state, for the care of a young heiress, he entrusted her 
 education to his friends, the Mallets, with whom Miss 
 Elliston resided several years. At the age of fifteen 
 she is prettily introduced in the poem of the Wedding- 
 day — 
 
 " Last comes a virgin — pray admire her ! 
 Cupid himself attends to squire her. 
 A welcome guest ! we much had mist her ; 
 For 'tis our Kitty, or his sister. 
 But, Cupid, let no knave or fool 
 Snap up this lamb, to shear her wool ; 
 No teague of that unblushing band, 
 Just landed, or about to land ; 
 Thieves from the womb, and train'd at nurse 
 To steal an heiress or a purse. 
 No scraping, saving, sawcy Cit, 
 Sworn foe of breeding, worth, and wit. 
 No half-form'd insect of a peer 
 With neither land nor conscience clear : 
 Who, if he can, 'tis all he can do 
 Just spell the motto on his landau. 
 From all, from each of these defend her ! 
 But thou, and Hymen, both befriend her 
 With truth, taste, honour in a mate. 
 And much good sense, and some estate." 
 
 By all these monsters was the heiress successively 
 assailed : she escaped, however, from their pursuit, and 
 was saved from herself by the coldness of Sir William 
 Peere Williams, afterwards killed at Belleisle : an high- 
 spirited Youth, whose talents might have been the glory, 
 but whose passions would have proved the curse, of her 
 life. The poet's wish was apparently fulfilled by her 
 marriage, in 1756, with Edward Eliot Esq'*^ (now Lord 
 Eliot), of Port Eliot, in the County of Cornwall. They 
 are both alive, and their three sons, now grown to man's 
 estate, are my nearest relations on the father's side. 
 
 2c
 
 386 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 While my poor aunt Flavia resigned herself to the 
 World and the Devil, her sister, Mrs. Hester Gibbon, 
 walked in the way of salvation, under the guidance 
 of Mr. Law; and her devout life is either the original 
 or the copy of his character of Miranda. By severe 
 penance she laboured to attone for the faults of her 
 youth, for the scenes of vanity into which she had been 
 led or driven by authority or example. But no sooner 
 was she mistress of her own actions and a plentiful 
 fortune, than the pious Virgin abandoned her brother's 
 house, and retired, with her Director, and a widow lady 
 of the name of Hutchinson, to Cliffe, near Stamford, in 
 Northamptonshire, where she still survives, many years 
 after the loss of her two friends. I shall not pretend 
 to enumerate the Christian virtues of Miranda. Her 
 charity, even its excess, commands our respect : " Her 
 fortune is divided between herself and several other 
 poor people ; and she has only her part of relief from 
 it." The sick and lame, young children and aged 
 persons, are the first objects of her benevolence ; but she 
 seldom refuses an alms to a common beggar, "and 
 instead of driving him away as a cheat, because she 
 does not know him, she relieves him, because he is a 
 stranger and unknown to her. Excepting her victuals, 
 she never spent ten pounds a year upon herself. If you 
 was to see her, you would wonder what poor body it was, 
 that was so surprizingly neat and clean. She eats and 
 drinks only for the sake of living ; and with so regular 
 an abstinence, that every meal is an exercise of self- 
 denial, and she humbles her body every time, that she 
 is forced to feed it." Her only study is the bible, with 
 some legends and books of piety, which she reads with
 
 MRS. HESTER GIBBON. 387 
 
 implicit faith. Her prayers are repeated five times each 
 (lay ; and as singing, according to Mr. Law, is an essential 
 part of devotion, she rehearses the Psalms and hymns 
 of thanksgiving which she will hereafter chant in a full 
 chorus of Saints and Angels. Such was the portrait, and 
 such the life, of that holy maiden, who by Gods is 
 Miranda called, and by men Mrs. Hester Gibbon. Oi.' 
 the pains and joys of a spiritual life 1 am ill qualified 
 to speak ; yet I am inclined to hope that her lot has 
 not been unhappy in this World. Her pennance is 
 voluntary, and in her eyes meritorious ; her time is 
 constantly employed, and instead of the insignificance 
 of an old maid, she is surrounded by dependants (poor 
 and abject as they are) who solicit her bounty and adopt 
 her sentiments. Christianity has not shed it's mildest 
 influence on her temper, naturally proud and morose ; she 
 hates all the enemies of God, and how can her enemies 
 be his friends ? After their separation, she seldom saw 
 and never forgave my father; his connection with the 
 Mallets marked him as a reprobate, and when I notified 
 his death, the sister did not drop a tear of sorrow or 
 sympathy. That event, however, renewed our corre- 
 spondence, which had been interrupted from my child- 
 hood, and I have been admitted to her presence in her 
 two short and necessary visits to London. I found her 
 external appearance such as has been described ; her 
 health confirmed by temperance, her natural under- 
 standing clear and manly, and her attention to the 
 interest of this World as keen and intelligent as if she 
 had never thought of another. My aunt Hester has now 
 lived above eighty-five years on this earth, an improper 
 habitation ; and if she survives to the conclusion of these
 
 388 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 Memoirs, I shall mention my hopes and fears which may 
 depend on her final dispositions. 
 
 At an advanced age, about the year 1761, Mr. 
 William Law departed this life, at the house of his 
 favourite Miranda. In his last days his Eeligion de- 
 generated into the visions of Jacob Behmen ; but he 
 always esteemed himself a true son of the Church of 
 England, though he was separated from her visible 
 communion by the unfortunate quality of a Nonjuror. 
 As such, he could disclaim all obedience to the new 
 Usurpers of the Crown and Mitre, and might avow his 
 loyalty to the indefeasible right, the banished heir of the 
 house of Stuart. After the Revolution, oaths of alle- 
 giance had been multiplied and imposed by the foolish 
 jealousy of the reigning party. Did they hope, by such 
 cobwebs, to bind the conscience of Sunderland or Marl- 
 borough, of Bolingbroke or Atterbury ? The majority of 
 Jacobites was resolved to aJjure and perjure, as occasion 
 might serve ; and the persecution fell on some harmless, 
 honest Enthusiasts, who can never be formidable to any 
 Government. The sacrifice of interest to principle or 
 prejudice is an act of virtue ; and Mr. Law has left in 
 our family the reputation of a pious and austere Clergy- 
 man, who believed all that he professed, and who prac- 
 tised all that he enjoy ned. I can pronounce with more 
 confidence on his writings than on his person, as I have 
 found and perused several of his books in my father's 
 library. His argument is specious, his wit is lively, his 
 style forcible ; and had not enthusiasm clouded his 
 vigorous understanding, he might have ranked with the 
 most agreable and ingenious writers of the Age. While 
 the Bangorian controversy was a popular theme, he
 
 WILLIAM LAW. 389 
 
 entered the lists on the subject of Christ's Kingdom and 
 the authority of the priesthood ; and long afterwards, he 
 engaged the great Hoadley in single combat against his 
 plain account of the Sacrament of the Lord's supper. 
 The friend of reason and liberty who struggles, ut cum 
 ratione insaniat is foiled by the high church Champion ; 
 and at every weapon of attack and defence the Nonjuror 
 is superior to a Prelate who has been magnified by 
 Whig-Idolatry far above his real size. On the publica- 
 tion of the Fable of the Bees, Mr. Law drew his pen — a 
 sharp pen — against that licentious treatise, and Morality 
 as well as Religion must joyn in his applause. After 
 these praises, which are sincerely bestowed, I have a 
 right to despise his extravagant declamation on the 
 absolute unla\vfulness of Stage-entertainments. "The 
 Actors, and Spectators must be all damned: the play- 
 house is the porch of Hell, the place of the Devil's abode 
 where he holds his filthy court of evil Spirits : a play is 
 the Devil's triumph, a sacrifice performed to his glory, as 
 in the Heathen temples of old," etc. etc. etc. Far different 
 in composition and effect is the master-work of Mr. Law, 
 Ids serious Call to a devout and Iwly life. His maxims 
 are rigid, but his eloquence is powerful ; and if he finds 
 in the reader's breast a spark of devotion, he will soon 
 kindle it to a flame. He points his reasoning and his 
 ridicule against the nominal Christians who forfeit their 
 salvation for the business or pleasures of a transitory 
 world. Some of his portraits of men and manners are 
 not unworthy of the pencil of La Bruyere. His prin- 
 ciples are true, either in themselves, or in the opinion of 
 those for whom he writes. Philosophy will teach that 
 all our actions should be conformable to the dignity
 
 390 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir A. 
 
 and happiness of our present Nature ; religion may de- 
 scribe the present life as no more than a passage, a 
 preparation to an eternal state of reward or punishment. 
 But the Sage who rejects the truth, and the Saint who 
 obeys the law of the Gospell must equally disdain the 
 absurd contradiction between the faith and practise of 
 the Christian World.]
 
 * £1 WAS born at Putney, in the County of Surry, of the a.d. 
 marriage of Edward Gibbon, Esq'°, and his first wife, April 27, 
 Judith Porten ; and was the eldest of their seven HaV 8 
 children, all of whom, except myself, died in their ^•^• 
 infancy. My lot in this World might have been that of 
 a peasant, a slave, or a savage ! 
 
 My family is ancient and honourable, in the County of 
 Kent, where they were possessed of lands as early as the 
 year 1326, in the parish of Rolvenden. In the beginning 
 of the seventeenth century a younger branch migrated 
 from the Country to the City ; nor can I be ashamed of 
 the coimter, or even the shop, of my ancestors ; since 
 English Gentility has never been degraded by the pro- 
 fession of trade. My grandfather, a man of sense and 
 spirit, was a Commissioner of the Customs in the last 
 Tory Ministry of Queen Anne, and was afterwards chosen 
 one of the Directors of the South sea company. In the 
 calamitous year one thousand seven hundred and twenty, 
 he was stripped of his property, one hundred and six 
 thousand five hundred and forty-three pounds five 
 shillings and sixpence, and reduced, by a most arbitrary 
 vote of the house of Commons, to an allowance of ten 
 thousand pounds. Yet something had been secreted by 
 his foresight, much was restored by his industry ; and 
 he died about Christmas, 1736, in the enjoyment, or at 
 
 * Memoir D, from hia birth to Lis father's death. Written 1790-91 ; 
 not hitherto published.
 
 392 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [MexMoir D. 
 
 least in the possession, of a fortune not inferior to that 
 which he had lost. By his wife, of the ancient family 
 of the Actons of Shropshire, he left one son and two 
 daughters — Hester, who preferred a life of celibacy and 
 devotion, and Catherine, the wife of EdAvard EUiston, 
 and the mother of the present Lady Eliot, of Port Eliot 
 in the County of Cornwall. My father, who was born in 
 the year 1707, enjoyed the advantages of Academical 
 education and foreign travel ; he successively represented 
 in Parliament the borough of Petersfield (1734) and the 
 town of Southampton (1740) ; and gave a strenuous 
 though silent support to the Tory opposition against 
 Sir Kobert Walpole and the Pelhams. Had he trod in 
 the mercantile path of his predecessors, he would have 
 been an happier, and I might be a richer man. But his 
 temper was gay, his life was dissipated ; his sisters had 
 been too liberally endowed at his expence ; his income 
 was inadequate to his hopes ; his expences were superior 
 to his income ; and his prudent retreat (1748) to his 
 estate in Hampshire was dignified by pious grief for the 
 loss of a beloved consort. 
 
 The weakness and infirmities of my childhood afforded 
 1752. little hope that I should reach the age which I have 
 already attained ; and I am indebted for my preservation 
 to the maternal care of my aunt, Mrs. Catherine Porten, 
 at whose name I feel a tear of gratitude trickling down 
 my cheek. During the first years of my life my tender 
 frame was afflicted by almost every disorder to which 
 human nature is exposed ; and every practitioner, from 
 Sloane and Mead to Ward and the Chevalier Taylor, 
 was successively summoned to torture or relieve me. 
 From these ills and their remedies I have wonderfully 
 
 A.D 
 
 1737-
 
 SCHOOL DAYS. 393 
 
 •escaped, and though I have never known the insolence 
 of active and vigorous health, I have seldom required, 
 since the age of fifteen, the serious advice of a Physician. 
 But the care of my body had already been pernicious to 
 that of my mind, and the progress of my education was 
 often relaxed by indulgence and often interrupted by 
 •disease. 
 
 In my seventh year I imbibed the rudiments of 
 science from the domestic tuition of Mr. John Kirkby, a 
 Nonjuring Clergyman, the author of an English Grammar, 
 which he dedicated to my father, and of a moral romance, 
 entitled the life of Automathes (1745). In my eighth 
 year I was dismissed from the tenderness and luxury of 
 my own family to the discipline and tumult of a school, 
 from whence, however, I was often recalled to a bed of 
 •sickness. At Kingston, and afterwards in the more 
 public seminary of Westminster, I acquired, with much 
 sweat and some blood, a competent knowledge of the 
 Latin tongue; but my frequent absence and early de- 
 parture would not allow me to reap the full harvest of 
 a Classical institution and the society of my equals. 
 During the last two years which preceded my settlement 
 £bt Oxford (1750-1752), I was moved from place to place 
 for the benefit of the waters or of medical assistance, 
 and, except some rare occasional lessons, the child was 
 Abandoned to his own pursuits. From the dawn of 
 reason I had discovered a taste, or rather a j)assion, for 
 books ; my infirmities disqualified me for the rough play 
 of the school, and while I was confined to the chamber 
 or the couch, reading — free desultory reading — was the 
 solace of my leisure hours. My young fancy was first 
 captivated by works of fiction, the Arabian nights, and
 
 394 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHT. [Memoir D. 
 
 Pope's Homer ; but I soon fixed on my proper food : all 
 the volumes of history, Chronology, and Geography which 
 I could procure in English were eagerly devoured ; and 
 though I read without choice or judgement, the ancient 
 and modern World were gradually opened to my view. 
 Several projects of composition already floated in my 
 mind, and I arrived at Oxford with a stock of erudition 
 tliat might have puzzled a Doctor, and a degree of 
 ignorance of which a schoolboy would have been ashamed. 
 A.D. Before I had accomplished my fifteenth year I was 
 
 April 3. matriculated as a Gentleman-Commoner of Magdalen 
 College, in the ancient and famous university of Oxford, 
 in which I consumed fourteen months, the most barren 
 and improfitable of my whole life. After every fair 
 abatement for my tender age, unripe studies, and hasty 
 removal, the reader will impute this loss of time either 
 to my own incapacity or to the misconduct of my 
 Academical guides. Yet I will take leave to repeat, 
 after a philosopher and a friend, that " in the university 
 of Oxford the greater part of the public professors, for 
 these many years past, have given uj), altogether, even 
 the pretence of teaching " (Eiches of Nations, vol. ii. p. 
 343). The monks or fellows of our wealthy foundation 
 were immersed in Port wine and Tory politics ; no model, 
 or motive, or example of study was proposed to the under- 
 graduates, and the silk gown, the velvet cap, was a badge 
 of protection against the formal exercises of the common 
 hall. The diligence of my College Tutors was confined 
 to a morning lecture of an hour, which I was at full 
 liberty to attend or forget : with the first, one of the 
 best of the tribe, I read in two or three months two or 
 three plays of Terence; but I was never called, in a
 
 OXFORD UNIVERSITY. 395 
 
 much longer space, to visit the chambers of the second. 
 The idleness of a boy was easily betrayed into some 
 irregularities of company and expence ; but after my 
 foolish, frequent excursions to London, Bath, etc., I never 
 felt the hand of authority, or ever heard the voice of 
 admonition — I shall rejoyce to learn that, since my time, 
 any reformation has taken place either in the university 
 or in the college. 
 
 As the university of Oxford had contrived to unite 
 the opposite extremes of bigotry in her doctrines and 
 of indifference in her practise, the religion of her pujiils 
 was not less neglected than their litterature ; and I was 
 left, by the dim light of my Catechism, to grope my way 
 to the Chappel and the Communion-table. But the dull 
 weight of the Atmosphere had not totally broken the 
 elasticity of my mind. Accident threw into my hands, 
 and curiosity tempted me to peruse, some Popish treatises 
 of Controversy. I read till I was deluded by the specious 
 sophistry, till I believed that I believed all the tremendous 
 mysteries of the Catholic creed ; and my folly may be 
 excused by the examples of Chillingworth and Bayle, 
 whose acute understandings were seduced at a riper age 
 by the same arguments. With the ardour of a youth 
 and the zeal of a proselyte, I was impatient to enter into 
 the pale of the Church ; some acquaintance in London 
 introduced me to a priest, and at his feet I solemnly 
 abjured the heresy of my ancestors. My father was 
 neither a bigot nor a philosopher, but this rash step 
 compelled him to remove me without delay from Oxford, 
 and even from England. The Protestant Eeligiou and 
 French language recommended Lausanne as a proper 
 place of exile and education. I was delivered into the
 
 396 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGEAPHY. [Memoir D, 
 
 hands of a Swiss Gentleman ; after a journey of eleven 
 days through France, we reached the banks of the Leman 
 Lake, and I found myself established in the house and 
 under the tuition of Mr. Pavillard, one of the ministers 
 of the town. 
 
 At the distance of thirty-seven years I can still 
 remember the melancholy impression of my first arrival 
 at Lausanne — at Lausanne, the beloved school of my 
 youth, and the chosen retirement of my declining age. 
 My spacious apartments in the new buildings of Magdalen 
 College were exchanged for a dark ill-furnished room in 
 the most dreary street of an unhandsome city ; our 
 domestic ceconomy was dirty and penurious; from the 
 liberty and affluence of a Gentleman-Commoner, I was 
 reduced, by my father's displeasure, to the humiliating 
 dependence of a schoolboy, and my ignorance of the 
 language deprived me at once of the use of hearing and 
 of speech. Yet of these hardships, some were removed 
 by time, others were alleviated by habit, and many were 
 conducive to my wellfare and improvement. A severe 
 course of abstinence and discipline invigorated the temper 
 of my mind and body ; poverty and pride estranged me 
 from my rich and idle countrymen, and forced me to 
 seek my amusement in myself and my books : in the 
 easy and familiar society of the natives of both sexes, 
 I gradually lost the awkward shame and narrow pre- 
 judices which in an English Cloyster would have adhered 
 to my whole life. The Academy of Lausanne was not 
 then distinguished by the fame of the professors or the 
 emulation of the students ; nor will my gratitude for 
 the virtuous Pavillard allow me to extend his praise 
 beyond the merits of kindness, assiduity, and a pleasing
 
 STUDIES AT LAUSANNE. 397 
 
 metliod of inculcating the general principles of human 
 learning. But my first steps were animated and directed 
 by his judicious advice ; and as soon as I advanced beyond 
 his speed and measure, he had the modesty and good 
 sense to leave me to my own impulse. My vague love 
 of reading, which had been damped at Oxford, was now 
 transformed into regular and rational application, and the 
 hours of lecture were soon melted into the voluntary labour 
 of the morning or of the day. The first use of my grow- 
 ing reason was to reject the dreams of superstition, and 
 my father rejoyced in the intelligence that I had again 
 professed myself a member of the Protestant Church. 
 
 ]\ry litterary obligations to Lausanne during a residence 
 of near five years, at the interesting age from sixteen 
 to twenty -one, may be enumerated under the following 
 heads. 1. I went through a compleat course of Logic, 
 Metaphysics, and Ethics. After digesting with my worthy 
 Tutor the preparatory Logic of his master, M. de Crousaz, 
 I ascended, without a guide, to writers of an higher 
 class ; and in my solitary meditations I was successively 
 the disciple, but not the slave, of Locke and Malebranche, 
 of Grotius and Pufiendorf, of Bayle and Montesquieu. 
 2. In the private lectures of a Professor of the Academy 
 I imbibed, as far as the Conic sections inclusively, the 
 Elements of Algebra and Geometry. 3. By conversation 
 and study I acquired the free use and critical knowledge 
 of the French language, which became not less familiar 
 to my ear, my pen, and my tongue. 4. The constant 
 exercise of translating and re-translating from French 
 into Latin, from Latin into French, accustomed me to 
 write with ease and purity in both idioms. My serious 
 occupation and favourite amusement was the study of
 
 398 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 the Classics, more especially of the writings of TuUy ; 
 and before my departure I had almost executed the plan 
 of reading in a Chronological series all the Poets and 
 historians, the Orators [and] Philosophers, of ancient 
 Rome. 5. I entered on the study of Greek, subdued the 
 difficulties of the Grammar, tasted some easy authors, and 
 prepared my arms for a more serious attack. From the 
 notes still in my possession, I could recapitulate many 
 books of instruction and amusement, the various food 
 from which I was now qualified to extract the nutritive 
 particules. I am tempted to describe the Theatre of 
 Voltaire, on which that extraordinary man represented 
 his own plays (Correspondence Generale, torn. iv. pp. 396, 
 408, 410, 414, 411), 421, 422, 423, 424, 429, 430, 431, 
 439 ; torn. v. pp. 5, 6, 9, 15, 16, 19, 21, 22, 23, 26, 34 ; 
 Edition de Beaumarchais) ; a tour of Switzerland, which 
 diversified my views of mankind ; and a litterary corre- 
 spondence with Messieurs Breitinger, Gesner, and Crevier, 
 three learned professors of Zurich, Gottingen, and Paris, 
 which I provoked and sustained. When I was recalled 
 home by my father, England was almost obliterated from 
 my memory ; I was naturalized in the Pays de Vaud, 
 nor was it without a sigh that I tore myself from the 
 dearest objects of my affection. My friendship for Mr. 
 George Deyverdun, a young Gentleman of Lausanne, has 
 ended only with his life. I felt (and I am proud that 
 I felt) the beauty and merit of a Lady who has supported 
 with equal propriety the scenes of fortune, from the 
 daughter of a country clergyman to the wife of the first 
 minister of the Finances of France. 
 A ^^fn_ After au easy journey through France and Holland, 
 May 4. I landed in England at the age of twenty-one. That 
 
 A.D.
 
 LIFE IN LONDON AND AT BURITON. 399 
 
 period had been expected with some impatience for the 
 accomplisliment of a legal sacrifice not unknown to the 
 heirs of entailed estates, and my filial obedience was 
 rewarded with an annuity of three hundred pounds. My 
 father, with evident marks of satisfaction, embraced me 
 as a friend and a man, and we lived till the hour of his 
 death on the most cordial terms of confidence and 
 affection. The amiable character of his second wife, 
 whom he had married in my absence, soon dispelled the 
 jealousy of prejudice ; and as Mrs. Gibbon had neither 
 children, nor hopes of children, we adopted the tender 
 names and genuine sentiments of mother and son. The 
 two first years of my residence in England were unequally 
 divided between London and our family mansion at 
 Buriton, near Petersfield, in Hampshire. But the first 
 aspect of the Metropolis did not correspond with my 
 sanguine expectations. My solitary lodging in Bond 
 Street was destitute of books, and I disliked the idle 
 round of the Tavern and the Coffee-house. The Theatre 
 was my favourite amusement, my best resource ; but 
 my foreign education had left me a stranger in my 
 own country, and amidst the crowds of London I often 
 regretted the society of Lausanne. From this costly and 
 tumultuous scene I retired, at the approach of spring, to 
 the hospitable entertainment of Buriton, and as my stay 
 was unconstrained, I was always wellcomed and dismissed 
 with a smile. Some portion of the day was devoted to 
 filial duties, and the forms of a family, but many hours 
 were my own ; and a tolerable library, of which I obtained 
 the key, was gradually enriched by my care and expence. 
 The love of learning was now matured into a constant 
 passion, and a rational habit : by the exercise of readino-
 
 400 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 and writing I recovered the freedom and purity of my 
 own language, while I prosecuted with ardour the study 
 of the Greek and Latin Classics. Several researches were 
 pursued, several plans of composition were formed and 
 prepared : my Essai sur V etude de la Litterature was 
 finished in the first six weeks of my first summer cam- 
 paign ; and the rude sketch was altered and revised in 
 several Manuscript Editions. For the sports of the 
 country I had no relish : I seldom mounted an horse, I 
 never handled a gun ; and when my father galopped away 
 on a fleet hunter to join the Duke of Eichmond's fox- 
 hounds, my walk was soon terminated by some shady 
 bench, where I forgot the hours in the conversation of 
 Horace or Xenophon. In this tranquil retreat, in this 
 torpid state, the circulation of expence was suspended 
 during several months, and the ceconomy of the purse 
 most happily contributed to the improvement of the 
 understanding. 
 A.P. But, alas ! we were soon summoned, my father from 
 
 1 ncic\ 
 
 May 10— ^is farm, and myself from my books, by the sound of the 
 1762. militia drum. We had rashly given our names to that 
 23. popular service, and when the order came down for 
 embodying the South-Battalion of the Hampshire, it was 
 too soon to repent, and too late to retreat. In this corps, 
 which consisted of four hundred and seventy -six officers 
 and men, my proper station was that of first Captain ; but 
 as the Major was my father, and the Lieutenant-Colonel- 
 Commandant (Sir Thomas Worsley) was my friend, as 
 they were often absent and always inattentive, I exer- 
 cised the effective government of the Battalion, to the 
 titular command of which I was promoted after the 
 resignation of the one and the death of the other. The
 
 THE MILITIA. 401 
 
 history of our bloodless campaigns may be dispatched in 
 
 a few words : we moved our quarters from Dover to the 
 
 Devizes ; we guarded some thousands of French prisoners 
 
 in Porchester and Sissinghurst castles ; we formed a part 
 
 of a summer camp near Winchester; and had the war 
 
 continued another year, we might have vied in appearance 
 
 and discipline with the best of our brethren. A youth of 
 
 any spirit is fired even by the play of arms, and my 
 
 enthusiasm aspired to the character of a real soldier ; but 
 
 the martial feaver was cooled by the enjoyment of our 
 
 mimic Bellona, who soon revealed to my eyes her naked 
 
 deformity, and I seriously panted for a life of liberty 
 
 and letters. A larger introduction into the English 
 
 World was a poor compensation for such company and 
 
 such employment — for the loss of time and health in the 
 
 daily and nocturnal exercises of the field and of the 
 
 bottle. 
 
 " Of seeming arms they make a short essay ; 
 Then hasten to get drunk — the business of the day." 
 
 From a service without danger I might have fled 
 without disgrace ; but my father's authority and the 
 entreaties of the Colonel kept me chained to the oar, till, 
 at the end of two years and seven months, I was released 
 by the final dissolution of the Militia. Yet even in the 
 tumult of an Inn, a barrack, or a Camp I had stolen some 
 moments of litterary amusement : I read Homer in my 
 tent ; and in our more settled quarters, I forced my rude 
 companions to respect those studies of which they were 
 ignorant. My accidental profession invited me to ex- 
 amine the best authors on military tactics : I compared 
 the theory of the ancients with the practise of the 
 moderns ; and the Captain of the Hampshire Grenadier 
 
 2d
 
 402 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 (the reader may smile) has not been useless to the 
 
 historian of the Roman empire. A rare and short leave 
 
 of absence, I sometimes snatched ; and in my excursions 
 
 to Buriton each precious hour was diligently occupied. 
 
 -^•D- It was in this period of a military life that I first 
 
 June gave myself to the public in the character of an author. 
 
 My Essai sur I'etude de la Litterature still reposed in my 
 
 desk, and I might long have balanced between the fears 
 
 and wishes of virgin modesty, had not my father's pressing 
 
 exhortation been enforced by the advice of Dr. Maty, the 
 
 author of the Journal Britannique, and of Mr. Mallet, 
 
 whose name still lives among the English poets. The 
 
 prseposterous mixture of' an English dedication was en- 
 
 joyned by Mr. Mallet ; in my absence from town Dr. Maty 
 
 corrected the press, and it was without my knowledge 
 
 that he prefixed an elegant and flattering Epistle — so 
 
 prudent, however, that, in case of a defeat, he might have 
 
 excused his indulgence to my age, my rank, and my 
 
 country. My first work was printed as I was marching 
 
 into Winchester camp, and in the distribution of presents 
 
 I ofi'ered a grateful tribute to my old Tutor and my 
 
 friends of Lausanne. I had soon the satisfaction of 
 
 reading the copious extracts, warm jjraises, and fair 
 
 predictions of the Journals of Paris and Holland, and a 
 
 new edition (I believe at Geneva) diffused the circulation 
 
 of my Essay. At home this foreign production was little 
 
 read, and speedily forgotten : the bookseller murmured 
 
 that a small impression was slowly dispersed, and the 
 
 author (had his feelings been more exquisite) might have 
 
 wept over the baldness and blunders of his English 
 
 translation. Fifteen years afterwards (such is the power 
 
 of a name) the first volimie of my history revived the
 
 ESSAI SUR LA LITTi^RATUEE. 403 
 
 memory of my Essay : the shops were eagerly searched, 
 and when a copy occurs in some auction, the fanciful 
 price is raised from half a crown to a guinea or thirty 
 shillings : a new Edition was hastily published by the 
 Dublin pyrates ; but as I was still proprietor of the copy, 
 I denied Becket the permission of reprinting it in 
 London. Yet, on a cool impartial review, thirty years 
 after the first effusion, I am not ashamed of this juvenile 
 performance. The want of order and perspicuity, the 
 ardent style, and the affectation of wit (CEuvres de 
 Kousseau, tom. xxxiii. p. 88) are the errors of an ambitious 
 youth. But the substance is the fruit of sound, though 
 superficial, reading and thinking, the spirit is liberal, 
 and my Essay contains the seeds of some ideas, especially 
 on the Polytheism of the ancients, which might deserve 
 the cultivation of a riper judgement. The merit of 
 language remains ; and the merit is singular — the ex- 
 amples of Count Hamilton and the Chevalier Eamsay are 
 inadequate ; and I may esteem myself the first Briton 
 who has aspired to the purity and elegance of a French 
 style. Yet this motive of vanity did not influence my 
 choice ; I wrote as I thought in the most familiar idiom. 
 After this first attempt I resolved to embrace some 
 design of history or biography, to which, even from my 
 childhood, I had been prompted by a secret instinct. 
 Many books were consulted, several subjects were in- 
 vestigated, some sketches were delineated; but as long 
 as I dragged the militia chain, the execution was im- 
 practicable ; and the first use of my freedom was a second 
 visit to the Continent. 
 
 In this visit two years and an half were employed ; and 
 though I supported the dress, appearance and equipage
 
 404 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 of an English Gentleman, my expence did not exceed the 
 sum which had been praeviously stipulated. So lively 
 was my impatience, that in forty days I shifted the scene 
 from a guard-house at Gosport to the Faubourg St. 
 Germain at Paris, where I passed between three and 
 four months, which I reckon among the most agreable 
 of my life. In the morning round of Churches, palaces, 
 and manufactures I visited with peculiar devotion the 
 Eoyal and public libraries. Four times a week I was 
 invited to seat myself, an unbidden guest, at the tables 
 of Mesdames Geoffrin and du Bocage, of the celebrated 
 Helvetius and Baron d'Holbach, which were frequented 
 by the first litterary characters of France, and enlivened 
 by the free conflict of Wit, learning, and philosophy. 
 From these Symposia I usually repaired to the Theatre, 
 and my evenings were spent in the houses of my 
 acquaintance, where I was received with favour and 
 perhaps with friendship. From the metropolis it had 
 been my design to view the southern provinces of 
 France, but I was diverted from this costly and circuitous 
 journey by the recent expences of Paris and the ancient 
 love of Lausanne. After five years absence virtuous 
 Pavillard embraced with tears of joy a pupil whose 
 success he ascribed to his own lessons, and my voluntary 
 return was hailed by the warm and sincere acclamations 
 of the friends of my youth. I chose my lodging and 
 table in the house of Mr. de Mesery, who entertained his 
 boarders (his pensionaires) with the spirit and liberality 
 of a Gentleman. Such were the simple attractions of the 
 place, so delightful was the alliance of study and society? 
 that the summer and autumn were lost in the succeeding; 
 winter ; nor could I accomplish till the return of Spring
 
 TOUR IN ITALY. 405 
 
 my passage of the Alps. A tour of Italy had long been 
 the object of my hopes and wishes ; but I shall not 
 expatiate on a country which has been seen by thousands 
 and described by hundreds of our modern travellers. 
 From the regular streets of Turin, the Gothic Cathedral 
 of JMilan, and the marble palaces of Genoa, I proceeded 
 by the ordinary road to the beauties of Florence, the 
 wonders of Kome, and the curiosities of Naples. After 
 a winter of enchantment in the eternal City, I again 
 ascended along the Adriatic coast to the galleries of 
 Bologna and the canals of Venice, bestowed a rapid 
 glance on the Palladian architecture of Vicenza and the 
 amphitheatre of Verona, and again repassing Mount 
 Cenis I returned home by the way of Lyons and Paris. 
 During my stay at Florence I read the classics of the 
 country with a Tuscan master; but as I never could 
 acquire a liberty of speech, my intercourse with the 
 natives was rare and formal, and my leisure was idly 
 wasted with the English Colony, the pilgrims of the 
 year. For the harmony of Music I had no ear, and I 
 beheld the capital works of painting and sculpture with 
 the eves of Nature rather than of art. But I was not 
 ignorant of the science of medals and manuscripts, I 
 had accurately surveyed the Geography of Italy, and the 
 Topography of ancient Rome ; her heroes and her writers 
 were present to my mind, and the flame of enthusiasm 
 was blended with the light of critical enquiry. I must 
 not forget the day, the hour, the most interesting in my 
 litterary life. It was on the fifteenth of October, in 
 the gloom of evening, as I sat musing on the Capitol, 
 while the barefooted fryars were chanting their litanies in 
 the temple of Jupiter, that I conceived the first thought
 
 406 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 of my history. My original plan was confined to the 
 decay of the City ; my reading and reflection pointed to 
 that aim ; but several years elapsed, and several avoca- 
 tions intervened, before I grappled with the decline and 
 fall of the Koman Empire. 
 
 After my first (1758) and my second (1765) return 
 home the forms of the English picture were nearly the 
 same, but the colours had been darkened by time, and 
 the five years and an half from my travels to my father's 
 death is the period of my life which I passed with the 
 least enjoyment, and which I recollect with the least 
 satisfaction. The militia and my travels had, indeed, 
 multiplied the nimiber of my acquaintance both in town 
 and country : the Romans of the same year had agreed 
 to form a weekly society ; and in a new Club (Boodle's) 
 into which I was balotted I found the daily ressource of 
 excellent dinners, mixed company, and moderate play. 
 The aspect of Buriton and of my family was still the 
 same, and a month of every year, till I broke the in- 
 glorious chain (1770), was consumed at Southampton in 
 the exercise and command of the Hampshire militia. 
 But in the spring of life I felt my liberty rather than my 
 dependence, and the enjoyment of the present hour was 
 animated by the hopes without being disturbed by the 
 cares of futmity. In the militia I was armed with power, 
 in my travels abroad I was exempt from controul: the 
 most gentle authority will sometimes frown without reason ; 
 the most chearful obedience will sometimes murmur with- 
 out cause; and as I approached, as I transcended, my 
 thirtieth year, I began to wish to be master in my own 
 house. While so many of my contemporaries were pushing- 
 forwards in the various paths of honours and riches, I was
 
 LITERARY PROJECTS. 407 
 
 left alone and immovable, the idle and insignificant spec- 
 tator of the agitations of the state and the business of the 
 World. Experience had shewn me the use of grafting my 
 personal consequence on the importance of a professional 
 body, the benefits of those connections which are cemented 
 by the mutual exchange of services and obligations. I 
 repented, when it was too late, that I had not embraced 
 at a proper age some lucrative calling, of trade, of the 
 law, or even of the Church, which might have defined 
 my character, assured my independence, and improved 
 my fortune. My scanty annuity of three hundred pounds 
 was a charge on our private estate, and I was afflicted by 
 the discovery that my pecuniary circumstances might be 
 impaired by the life, and could only be enlarged by the 
 loss, of a parent. From these painful reflexions I found 
 the best refuge and consolation in my library ; but I 
 should abhor my own unfeeling philosophy had I been 
 capable of much study in the last fatal summer which 
 preceded my father's death. 
 
 Among the several plans of historical compositions 
 which I had weighed and compared, tivo were selected 
 of a convenient size and interesting nature — the Eevo- 
 lutions of the Republic of Florence till it's final sub- 
 mission to the house of Medicis; and the Wars and 
 alliances of the Swiss, from the first conspiracy of the 
 three peasants to the defeat and death of Charles, Duke 
 of Burgundy. My choice, which already inclined in 
 favour of my second countrymen, was decided by the 
 arrival and advice of Mr. George Deyverdun, whose long 
 and frequent visits enlivened the solitude of Buriton. I 
 soon discovered the insufficiency of my French and Latin 
 memorials ; but my friend, who had resided in one of the
 
 408 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 courts of Germany, was a master of the idiom in which 
 the annals of the Swiss cantons are for the most part 
 recorded. Some necessary books, the Chronicles of 
 Tschudi and Schilling, the history of Lauffer, the 
 Dictionary of Leu, etc., were gradually collected ; and a 
 decent stock of extracts and materials, a heap of bricks 
 and stones, was prepared for the [use] of the architect. My 
 associate, my own habits, and the scene itself recommended 
 the French language ; and in the summer of 1767 the 
 first book was undertaken, and finished with the ardour 
 of a new adventure. But in the following winter my Essay 
 was read, judged, and condemned in a society of ingenious 
 foreigners in London ; and the author, of whom they were 
 ignorant, acquiesced in the justice of their sentence. I 
 cannot repent of desisting from an enterprize in [which] 
 some expence, more labour, and much time had been fruit- 
 lessly employed. At a distance from the archives and 
 libraries, without any correspondents among the scholars 
 and statesmen of Switzerland, I could have produced only 
 a superficial sketch, an abridgement rather than an history, 
 a declamation rather than an abridgement. Nor would 
 the elegance of the fashion have attoned for the slightness 
 of the substance : the French language, so rich in litterary 
 merit, has not produced any great models of historical 
 composition ; and I was conscious that I had not attained 
 the genuine style, the middle tone, of that species of 
 writing. After this failure I engaged with my friend in 
 a periodical work of more merit than reputation, but of 
 more re^jutation than emolument. The Journal Britan- 
 nique of Dr. Maty was esteemed and regretted, and our 
 Memoires litteraires de la Grande Bretagne embraced a 
 larger field — the arts and manners as well as the litterature
 
 LITERARY STUDIES. 409 
 
 of the British Nation. It is needless, and it would be 
 difficult, to ascertain the shares of our respective property : 
 but the taste and knowledge of my fellow-labourer may 
 be esteemed by the singular felicity with which he has 
 transfused into a foreign idiom the local and even verbal 
 wit of the Bath Guide. After publishing two Volumes 
 for the years 1767 and 1768, the work was interrupted by 
 Mr. Deyverdun's leaving England. I had recommended 
 him as Governor to Sir Richard AVorsley, the son of my 
 deceased Colonel ; he afterwards travelled in the same 
 character with the present Earl of Chesterfield, Lord 
 Middleton, and Mr. Alexander Hume : in the intervals 
 of these continental tours he resided chiefly in my house, 
 till an annuity from the last of his pupils, and the in- 
 heritance of an aunt, enabled him to fix his final abode 
 in his native country. 
 
 A youth of liberal education may be allowed to make 
 a tryal of his strength in a foreign language, and some 
 applause will attend the successful adventure ; but his 
 riper judgement will teach him that it is in his own 
 country, and in his mother-tongue, that he must build 
 the solid fabric of his fame. After my second return I 
 gradually adopted the style and sentiments of an English- 
 man : it was in my poAver to act as a magistrate; it might 
 be my fortune to sit in Parliament : I investigated with 
 some care the principles and history of the British consti- 
 tution ; and a copious, rational abstract of Blackstone's 
 Commentaries was the first and, indeed, the sole fruit 
 of my legal studies. The generality of readers feed 
 only on the popular publications of the winter, and the 
 most austere student will often break the line to in- 
 dulge his curiosity, and provide the fashionable topics of
 
 410 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 conversation. But I was ever mindful of the adage, " old 
 wine, old friends, old hooks,'" the classics of Greece and 
 Rome were my perpetual feast, and the Critical ohserva- 
 tions on the sixth hook of the Mneid arose perhaps from the 
 thirtieth perusal of Yirgil. I presumed to examine and 
 refute the learned and fanciful hypothesis of the Bishop 
 of Gloucester, " That the descent of ^Eneas to the shades 
 is a figurative description, an allegorical picture of the 
 Hero's initiation to the Eleusinian mysteries." During a 
 space of thirty years this conjecture, a strange episode in 
 the Divine legation of Moses, was adopted by many and 
 contradicted by none ; and even those scholars who 
 doubted the truth, admired the ingenuity of Warburton's 
 interpretation. But the insolence of the tyrant and the 
 idolatry of his slaves (see the base and malignant delicacy 
 of friendship) had provoked a general opposition among 
 the freemen of the Republic of letters, and I was en- 
 couraged by the triumj)h of Lowth {Letter from a late 
 professor in the University of Oxford) to break a lance 
 against the Giant's shield. My critical observations, a 
 small pamphlet which I j)rinted in the beginning of the 
 year 1770, was received by the public with coldness and 
 neglect ; but the public neglect has been amply compen- 
 sated by the honourable testimonies of Heyne (Yirgilii 
 Opera, tom. ii. p. 804, edit, secunda, Lipsife, 1787), of 
 Hayley (see his Works, vol. iii. pp. 152-162, octavo 
 edition of Parr ; preface to the Warburtonian tracts, 
 p. 192). The warm feelings of Mr. Hayley even prompt 
 him to vindicate the acrimony of style which had been 
 so justly censured (" Paullo acrius quam velis . . . 
 perstrinxit ") by the incomparable editor of Virgil. But 
 the Genius of Warburton was not an object of contempt ;
 
 HISTOrJCAL STUDIES. 411 
 
 nor can I forgive myself the cowardice of suppressing my 
 name in a personal attack. 
 
 Between my Essay and the first volume of the decline 
 and fall, fifteen years (1761-1776) of strength and 
 freedom elapsed, without any other publications than 
 my criticism on Warburton and some articles in the 
 Memoires Litteraires. The four first years may be 
 deducted for the militia and foreign travel, the three 
 last for the actual composition of my first volume ; but 
 in the intermediate period (1765-1772) I gradually 
 advanced from the wish to the hope, from the hope to 
 the design, from the design to the execution, of my 
 historical work, of whose nature and limits I had yet a 
 very inadequate notion. The Classics, as low as Tacitus, 
 the younger Pliny, and Juvenal, were my old and familiar 
 companions ; and from this sera I insensibly plunged into 
 the Ocean of the xVugustau history. The subsidiary rays 
 of laws, of medals, and of inscriptions were cast on their 
 proper objects; and in the descending series I investigated, 
 Avith my pen almost always in my hand, the original 
 records, both Greek and Latin, from Dion Cassius to 
 Ammianus Marcellinus, from the reign of Trajan to the 
 last age of the Western Ca3sars. Through the darkness 
 of the middle ages I explored my way, in the Annals and 
 Antiquities of Italy of Muratori, and compared them with 
 the paralel or transverse lines of Sigonius and Mafiei, of 
 Baronius and Pagi, till I almost grasped the ruins of 
 Eome in the fourteenth Century, without suspecting that 
 this final chapter must be attained by the labour of six 
 quartos and twenty years. The connection of the Church 
 and state compelled me to assume the character of a 
 Theologian : I read my Greek Bible, with the notes of
 
 412 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 the best Interpreters ; and the Ecclesiastical history of 
 Eusebius was accompanied by the Apologies of the 
 primitive Christians. I am not ashamed to acknowledge 
 a debt of gratitude to the inimitable accuracy of Tille- 
 mont, the learned paradoxes of Dodwell, the sagacity of 
 Mosheim, the candour of Beausobre, the free spirit of 
 Middleton, the good sense of Le Clerc, the just morality 
 of Barbeyrac, and the honest diligence of Lardner ; but 
 the labours of the moderns have served to guide, not to 
 supersede, my enquiries ; and as I have presumed to 
 think with my own reason, so I have endeavoured to see 
 with my own eyes. These various studies were productive 
 of many remarks and memorials, and in this supplement 
 I may perhaps introduce a Critical dissertation on the 
 miraculous darkness of the Passion, 
 ^ly The dissolution of the militia at the close of the War 
 
 father's 
 
 death, (1762) had restored my father, a new Cincinnatus, to his 
 1770. Hampshire farm. His labours were useful, his pleasures 
 be7lo!" innocent, his wishes moderate : the neighbourhood 
 enjoyed the presence of an active magistrate and 
 charitable landlord; his polite address and chearful 
 conversation recommended him to his equals; he was 
 not dissatisfied with his son, and he had been fortimate, 
 or rather judicious, in the choice of his two wives. In 
 this retirement he seemed to enjoy the state of life 
 which is praised by philosophers and poets as the most 
 agreable to Natiire, and the least accessible to Fortune — 
 
 " Beatus ille qui procul negotiis 
 (Ut prisca gens mortalium) 
 Paterna rura bubus exercet suis 
 Solutus omni fxnortr 
 
 But the last indispensable condition, the freedom from
 
 FINANCIAL EMBARRASSMENTS. 413 
 
 debt, was wanting to my father's happiness; and the 
 vanities of his youth were severely expiated by the 
 accumulation of solicitude and sorrow on his declining. 
 There can be no merit in the discharge of a duty ; but 
 alone, in my library, at such a distance of time and 
 place, without a witness or a judge, I should be pursued 
 by the bitterness of remembrance had I not obeyed the 
 dictates of filial piety, had I not consented to every 
 sacrifice that might promise some relief to the distress 
 of a parent. His mind, alas ! was no longer capable 
 of a rational effort, and his reluctant delays postponed, 
 not the evils themselves, but the remedies of those evils 
 {remedia malorum potius quam mala differebat). The 
 pangs of tenderness and self-reproach incessantly preyed 
 on his vitals ; he lost his strength and his sight ; a rapid 
 dropsy admonished him of his end, and he sunk into 
 the grave, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. His death 
 was the only event that could have saved me from a 
 life of obscurity and indigence ; yet I can declare to 
 my own heart that, on such terms, I never wished for 
 a deliverance. 
 
 A prosperous or thoughtless heir may indulge in the Pecuniary 
 use and abuse of his new wealth ; but, at the sober age of a.d. 
 three and thirty it is was (sic) incumbent on me to measure jygs 
 the limits of my income and the extent of my obligations. 
 My temper is not susceptible of avarice : but even my 
 youth had been exempt from vice and folly ; and I may 
 alledge as a singular evidence of discretion, that during 
 the lifetime of my father my narrow annuity was never 
 burthened with any debts of my own contracting. The 
 heavy mortgages which he left could only be discharged 
 by the sale of a considerable part of my landed property.
 
 414 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. [Memoir D. 
 
 The victims were brought to the altar; but so un- 
 skillful or unsuccesful were my efforts, so untoward were 
 the circumstances of the times and the characters of 
 men, that a long train of difficulties and delays, of 
 disappointments and losses, preceded the consumma- 
 tion of the sacrifice and the final settlement of my 
 affairs. While I struggled with these embarrassments, 
 the balance of receipt and expenditure could not be 
 very correctly observed. But I always continued to 
 enjoy the comforts of decent luxury, and to maintain 
 an honourable rank in the society of my equals and 
 superiors. I have seldom been mortified by the denial 
 of any reasonable gratification ; my credit was never 
 sullied by any act of meanness or injustice ; and the 
 annual deficiencies of my revenue were readily provided 
 by some accidental ressource or some extraordinary 
 supply. — I shall not expatiate more minutely on a 
 subject, unpleasant to myself, uninteresting to the reader. 
 It is a rule of prudence as well as of politeness to 
 reserve such confidence for the ear of a friend, without 
 exposing our private situation to the envy or juty of 
 strangers : for envy is productive of hatred, and pity 
 borders too nearly on contempt. Yet I am disposed 
 to believe that the mediocrity of my life and fortune, 
 above poverty and below riches, has powerfully con- 
 tributed to the application and success of the historian. 
 Few books of merit and importance have been composed 
 either in a garret or a palace. A lofty station and 
 superfluous estate are too closely connected with the 
 cares, the pleasures, and the vanities of the world ; wliile 
 the Genius of indigence will be depressed and occupied 
 by the humble labours of some necessary calling. The
 
 DEATH OF GIBBON'S FATHEE. 415 
 
 distant hope of honour and reward may excite the 
 industry of a liberal mind, but wretched is the author 
 and wretched will be the work where daily diligence 
 is stimulated by daily himger. 
 
 After my father's decease the plan "of an independent 
 life was soon decided in my own choice. But I was still 
 involved in the management of a large estate; a rural 
 net which could not be torn without loss nor disentangled 
 without skill. I was apprehensive of wounding the feel- 
 ings of Mrs. Gibbon, as she fondly adhered to a spot 
 which was consecrated by her husband's memory; and 
 whilst I hesitated, two winters and two summers rolled 
 away in the same distribution of my time between 
 London and Hampshire. But the new prospect was 
 brightened by liberty and hope ; my to^^'n residence 
 was improved and prolonged ; the uniformity of the 
 country was broken by invitations and excursions ; I 
 could now indulge myself in some latitude of expence ; 
 and my favourite expence was always applied to the 
 prosecution of my studies. At length, with the assist- 
 ance of a friend, I disposed of my stock, let a long 
 lease of Buriton, and bid an everlasting farewell to the 
 country. Mrs. Gibbon had chosen Bath, the best retreat 
 for the sober singleness of widowhood ; and my books, the 
 most valuable of my effects, accompanied my own removal 
 to the metropolis.]
 
 416 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 1753, June — 1754, December. 
 
 1. Journey to L. — Eliot — Chesterfield. 
 
 2. First aspect horrid — house, slavery, ignorance, 
 exile. 
 
 3. Benefits — separation, language — health, study, 
 exercises. 
 
 4. Pavillard — character — use — lectures — conversation 
 — French and Latin — double translations — Logic. 
 
 5. Keturn to the Protestant Church. 
 
 1755, Jan. — December. 
 
 6. Mental puberty — voluntary study — habits — Cicero, 
 my gratitude to him and Xenophon. 
 
 7. Greek grammar and Testament. 
 
 8. Kational reading — commonplace. 
 
 9. Tour of Switzerland. 
 
 1756, Jan. — 1758, April. 
 
 10. My series of Tjatin Classics — criticisms — Greek 
 fragment. 
 
 11. Mathematics — Metaphysics — Ethics public and 
 private. 
 
 12. Correspondence, with Breitinger, Allamand, etc. 
 
 13. Taste and compositions — seeds of the Essay. 
 
 14. Love.
 
 PRIDE OF ANCESTRY. 417 
 
 15. Friendship and society. 
 
 16. Voltaire Theatre. 
 
 17. The World. 
 
 18. Recall and Estimate. 
 
 A lively desire of knowing and recording our ancestors 
 so : generally j^re vails, that it must depend on the 
 influence of some common principle in the minds of 
 men. Our imagination is always active to enlarge the 
 narrow circle in which Nature has confined us. Fifty 
 or an hundred years may be alotted to an individual ; 
 but we stretch forwards beyond death with such hopes 
 as Eeligion and Philosophy will suggest, and we fill 
 up the silent vacancy that precedes our birth by 
 associating ourselves to the authors of our existence. 
 [| We seem to have lived in the persons of our forefathers : 
 it is the labour and reward of Vanity to extend the 
 term of this ideal longevity, and few there are who 
 can sincerely despise in others an advantage of which 
 they are secretly ambitious to partake. The knowledge 
 of our own family from a remote period will be always 
 esteemed as an abstract pre-eminence, since it can never 
 be promiscuously enjoyed ; but the longest series of 
 peasants and mechanics would not afford much gratifica- 
 tion to the pride of their descendant. We wish to 
 discover our ancestors ; but we wish to discover them 
 possessed of ample fortunes, adorned with honourable 
 titles, and holding an eminent rank in the class of 
 hereditary nobles, which has been maintained for the 
 wisest and most beneficial purposes, in almost every 
 climate of the Globe and in almost every form of political 
 
 2e
 
 418 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 society. If any of these have been conspicuous above 
 their equals by personal merit and glorious atchievments, 
 the generous feelings of the heart will sympathize in 
 an alliance with such characters ; nor does the man 
 exist who would not peruse with warmer curiosity the 
 life of an hero from whom his name and blood were 
 lineally derived.] The Satirist may laugh, the Philo- 
 sopher may preach; but reason herself will respect the 
 prejudices and habits which have been consecrated by 
 the experience of mankind. 
 
 Our calmer judgement will rather tend to moderate 
 than to suppress the pride of an ancient and worthy 
 race : but in the estimate of honour we should learn 
 to value the gifts of Nature above those of fortune ; to 
 esteem in our ancestors the qualities that best promote 
 the interest of Society, and to pronounce the descendant 
 of a King less truly noble than the offspring of a man 
 of Genius, whose writings will instruct or delight the 
 latest posterity. The family of Confucius is, in my 
 opinion, the most illustrious in the World. After a 
 painful ascent of eight or ten Centuries, our Barons and 
 Princes of Europe are lost in the darkness of the middle 
 age ; but in the vast equality of the Empire of China, 
 the posterity of Confucius has maintained above two 
 thousand two hundred years its peaceful honours and 
 perpetual succession ; and the Chief of the family is 
 still revered by the Sovereign and the people, as the 
 living image of the wisest of mankind. The nobility 
 of the Spencers has been illustrated and enriched by 
 the trophies of Marlborough ; but I exhort them to 
 consider the Faery Queen as the most precious jewel of 
 their coronet.
 
 THE HAPSBURGS. 419 
 
 " Nor less praise-worthy are the ladies there, 
 The honour of that noble familie 
 Of which I meanest boast mj'self to be," 
 
 Our immortal Fielding was of a younger branch of the 
 Earls of Denbigh, who draw their origin from the Counts 
 of Habsburgh, the lineal descendants of Ethico in the 
 seventh Century, Duke of Alsace. Far different have 
 been the fortunes of the English and German divisions 
 of the family of Habsburgh. The former, the Knights 
 and Sheriffs of Leicestershire, have slowly risen to the 
 dignity of a peerage; the latter the Emperors of 
 Germany and Kings of Spain, have threatened the 
 liberty of the old and invaded the treasures of the new 
 World. The successors of Charles the fifth may disdain 
 their humble brethren of England, but the Eomance of 
 Tom Jones, that exquisite picture of human manners, 
 will outlive the palace of the Escurial and the Imperial 
 Eagle of the house of Austria.
 
 420 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGRAPHr. 
 
 WILL OF EDWARD aiBBON MADE IN 1788.* 
 
 Conscious of the uncertainty of human life, I, Edward 
 Gibbon, do make my last Will and testament in the 
 following manner : — 
 
 I constitute and appoint the Right Honourable John 
 Lord Sheffield and John Batt, Esq"^, of the Adelphi, 
 London, the joint Executors of this my last Will and 
 testament, requesting only, that in all matters to be 
 performed in Switzerland they will consult with Monsieur 
 Victor de Saussure, Judge of the city of Lausanne, in 
 whose honour, friendship, and ability they may safely 
 confide. 
 
 It is at present my intention to dispose of my landed 
 property at Buriton, in the County of Southampton, but 
 in case I should die without effecting that purpose, I 
 give and devise all the said lands to my two Executors, 
 or the survivor of them, in trust to be by them sold, 
 and the monies arising from such sale to be carried to 
 the general account of my personal estate. And I give 
 to the said Executors, their heirs, Executors, adminis- 
 trators, and assigns, the whole of my personal estate, of 
 whatsoever nature it may be, in trust to be applied by 
 
 * Endorsed, not in Gibbon's dated the 14tli July, 1788; can- 
 writing : " The last Will and Testa- celled by last Will, 1791." 
 ment of Edward Gibbon, Esq.,
 
 GIBBON'S WILL. 421 
 
 them to the following uses, according to the order in 
 which they are hereafter specified. 
 
 I will that my funeral be regulated with the strictest 
 simplicity ; and that if I should dye abroad, my remains, 
 instead of being transported to England, be decently 
 interred at the jdace of my decease — Shall I be accused 
 of vanity if I add that a monument is superfluous ? 
 
 I will that all my funeral expences, just debts, and 
 legacies be paid by my Executors, as soon as may be 
 after my decease. And in case my personal property, 
 exclusive of the sale of Buriton, shall not be found 
 suflScient for the discharge of the same, I will that the 
 remaining deficiency be charged on the produce and 
 purchase-money of my real estate. 
 
 As a mark of filial gratitude and regard, I give to 
 Mrs. Dorothea Gibbon, of the Belvidere at Bath, an 
 annuity for her life of two hundred pounds over and 
 above any jointure, or equivalent for a jointure, to which 
 she may be entitled as the widow of my deceased 
 father. 
 
 I give to my friend Mr. George Deyverdun, of 
 Lausanne, the interest of a sum of four thousand pounds ; 
 and after his death, the aforesaid sum to Mr. William 
 de Severy of the same place, to him and his heirs for 
 ever. But in case the said William de Severy should 
 die before me, I give the same sum, after the death of 
 Mr. George Deyverdun, to be equally divided between 
 my two cousins, the children of my uncle, Sir Stanier 
 Porten. 
 
 I give to the two children of my aforesaid uncle, or 
 to the survivor of them, the sum of four thousand pounds : 
 to wit, to Stanier Porten two thousand pounds, and to
 
 422 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 
 
 Charlotte Porten two thousand pounds, to be paid on the 
 day of their marriage, or of their respectively attaining 
 the age of twenty-one years. And in case they should 
 both die before that time, I give their shares, together 
 with the four thousand pounds which may accrue to 
 theni by the death of William de Severy, to the Honour- 
 able John and William Eliot, younger sons of the 
 Right Honourable Edward Lord Eliot, share and share 
 alike. 
 
 I give to the above-mentioned John and William 
 Eliot the sum of eight thousand pounds, to be equally 
 divided between them, and the whole to the survivor and 
 his heirs for ever. 
 
 I give to each of my two executors the sum of two 
 hundred pounds. They will not refuse this slight ac- 
 knowledgment of their good offices ; but I can never 
 discharge my debt of gratitude to the warm and active 
 friendship of Lord Sheffield. 
 
 I ffive to Monsieur Victor de Saussure one hundred 
 pounds, as an inadequate recompense for his trouble. 
 
 I give to the Right Honourable Abigail Lady Shef- 
 field, to Madame de Montalieu (born Poller de Bottens) 
 of Lausanne, to Dr. William Robertson and Dr. Adam 
 Smith of Edinburgh, to the Right Honourable Alexander 
 Lord Loughborough, and Sir Reynolds Knight, the sum 
 of one hundred guinesis each, to be laid out by them in 
 such way as will best recall to their minds the memory of 
 a departed friend. 
 
 I give to Mr. Peter Elmsley, bookseller, the sum of 
 fifty pounds, from the same motive and to the same 
 purpose, 
 
 I give to Richard Caplen, who lived with me many
 
 GIBBON'S WILL. 423 
 
 years in the capacity of a butler, the sum of three 
 hundred pounds, and recommend him to all my friends 
 as a man of sense and integrity, not unworthy of a higher 
 station. 
 
 I give to Phoebe Ford, who formerly lived with me in 
 the capacity of a housekeeper, an annuity of twenty-five 
 pounds for her life. 
 
 of my servants a year's wages; and to 
 each of those lived with me seven years at the time 
 
 of my decease, I give an annuity for their lives of the 
 value of one year of their respective wages. 
 
 I give to my friend Mr. George Deyverden, of 
 Lausanne, all my plate, china, pictures, linen, and house- 
 hold furniture whatsoever, requesting only that he would 
 bestow all my wearing apparel on the valet de chambre 
 who shall live with me at the time of my decease. 
 
 I give all my library of printed books to Mr. George 
 Deyverden, and after his decease to the Academy of 
 Lausanne for the public use : reserving only a copy in 
 red morocco of my History, which I give to Madame de 
 Severy, together with one hundred volumes such as she 
 shall please to select. 
 
 I will that all my Manuscript papers found at the 
 time of my decease be delivered to my executors, and 
 that if any shall appear sufficiently finished for the public 
 eye, they do treat for the purchase of the same with a 
 Bookseller, giving the preference to Mr. Andrew Strahan 
 and Mr. Thomas Cadell, whose liberal spirit I have 
 experienced in similar transactions. And whatsoever 
 monies may accrue from such sale and publication I give 
 to my much-valued friend William Hayley, Esq., of 
 Eastham, in the County of Sussex. But in case he shall
 
 424 GIBBON'S AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 
 
 dye before me, I give the aforesaid monies to the Royal 
 Society of London and the Eoyal Academy of Inscrip- 
 tions of Paris, share and share alike, in trust to be by 
 them employed in such a manner as they shall deem most 
 beneiicial to the cause of Learning. 
 
 And I give all the rest and residue of my property, of 
 whatsoever nature it may be, to the Honourable John 
 Eliot and his heirs for ever : whom I appoint my 
 residuary legatee, by this my last will and testament, 
 written and subscribed with my own hand at Sheffield 
 Place, in the county of Sussex, on the fourteenth day of 
 July, of the year one thousand seven hundred and eighty- 
 eight. 
 
 Signed, sealed, and published in the 
 presence of 
 
 John Ceaufurd, "j ( Seal ) 
 
 Jos. Banks, >> Witnesses. ^— -^ 
 
 Norton Nicholls,
 
 INDEX 
 
 Abingdon, Earl of, 273 n. 
 
 Abu Jaafir Ebn Tophail, 42 ?»., 
 
 99 «., 296 n. 
 Actou, Sir Edward, 373 
 Acton, Sir Eichard, 109, 216, 373 
 Acton, Sir Walter. 365, 373 
 Acton, Sir Whitmore, 11, 109, 216 
 
 372 
 Acton, Mr. Francis, 16, 373 
 Acton, General, 18, 109, 216, 37-1 
 Acton, Hester, 11, 365, 372 
 Acton, Richard, 11, 365, 372 
 Aiguillon, Ducliesse d', 171 
 Aine, Mdlle. de, 203 n. 
 Aislabie, Mr., 376 
 Albuger, Thomas, 96 
 Alciphron, 26 
 Alembert, M. d', 38 n., 167, 201, 
 
 261, 296 n., 346 n. 
 AUamand, Mr., 146, 235, 298 
 AUesborough, 7, 367 
 Alton, 185 
 
 Anderida forest, 1, 96, 357 
 Anderson, Adam, 3 n., 12 n. 
 Apthorpe, Dr., 317 
 Apuldore, 96 
 
 Arnaud, Francois, 201 «., 261 
 Ashmole, Mr., 8, 368 
 Aubrey, Sir John, 273 n. 
 Augsberg, Congress of, 170, 255 
 Aylitie, his account of the founding 
 
 of the Camden Lectures, 72 n. ; 
 
 State of the University of Oxford, 
 
 73, 102 
 
 B 
 
 Badcock, Eev. Samuel, 319 n. 
 
 Bagshaw, Mr., 61 n. 
 
 Baker, a Jesuit priest, 87, 129, 227, 
 
 395 
 Ballard, George, 75 n. 
 Bangorian controversy, 24, 388 
 Banks, Sir Joseph, 307 n., 424 
 Barcklaie, Sir William, 367 
 Barre, Colonel, 187 
 Barthe'iemy, Jean Jacques, 201 n., 
 
 261 
 Bath, 53, 116, 222 
 Batt, John, appointed executor, 420 
 Bayle, 91, 129, 229, 297, 395 
 Beacon Hill, 2 n. 
 Beattie, Dr., 71 7i. 
 Beaufort, Mr. de, 154 
 Beaumarchais, 320 
 Beckett, T., 170, 255, 403 
 Beckford, Elizabeth, 186 n. 
 Beckford, Mr., 257 n. 
 Bedingfield, Mdlle., 96 
 Benendeu, the free school of, 2, 
 
 106, 212, 357 
 Bercleys of Beauston, 5, 106, 212, 
 
 361 
 Berkeley, Bishop, 26 ; his Theory 
 
 of Vision, 34 n. 
 Berkley, Earl of, 273 n. 
 Bern, the revenue of, 343 
 Bertie, Hon. Peregrine, 273 n. 
 Besan^on, 18, 373 
 Betts, Dr. John, 8, 368 
 Bigge, T. C, 273 n.
 
 42G 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Birch, Dr., his Life of Sir W. 
 lialeifjh, 194 
 
 Blackburne, Rev. F., The Con- 
 fessional, 84 71. 
 
 Blackstoue, G n. 
 
 Blair, Hugh, Lectures on Bhetoric, 
 73 n. 
 
 Blandford, 184, 187, 253 
 
 Bleterie, Abbe de la, 201, 261 ; TJte 
 Life of Julian, 143 
 
 Bloxam, J. R., extracts from Mag- 
 dalen Coll. Register, 43 n., 75 »»., 
 81 n. 
 
 Bocage, Mme. du, 203, 262, 301, 
 404 
 
 Bolingbroke, Lord, 11, 176, 214, 
 300 n. 
 
 Boltou, Duke of, 183, 185, 253, 260 
 
 Bontemps, Pierre H., 204 n. 
 
 Boutemps, Mme., 204, 263 
 
 Boothby, Miss, 26 n. 
 
 Boromean Islands, 266, 302 
 
 Boswell's Johnson, 39 n., 75 n. 
 
 Bougainville, Jean P. de,202 n.,261 
 
 Breitinger, Prof., 146, 235, 298, 398 
 
 Bre tonne, Re'tif de la, 334 n. 
 
 Bristol, Earl of, 160, 245 
 
 Brokesby, 72 n. 
 
 Bro(jke, Mr., 356 
 
 Brooks, Mr., 8 n. 
 
 Bruce, Lord, 186 
 
 Brudeuell, Thomas Bruce, 186 7i. 
 
 Bnfifoii, 201, 314; extract from 
 Bistoire Naturelle, 33, 35, 97, 
 111,218,343.347,348 71. 
 
 Buriton, 47, 79, 161, 193, 218, 246, 
 299, 3S0, 399 
 
 Burke, Mr., 52 «., 307 »., 320 n., 
 342 «. ; his bill of reform, 321, 
 325 
 
 Burnet, Bishop, Travels through 
 France, etc., 62 n. 
 
 Burnet, Dr., 323 n. 
 
 Burney, Dr., 307 n. 
 
 Burton, 93 
 
 Busby, Dr., 51, 60, 84 n. 
 
 Bute, Lord, 163, 273 n. 
 
 Byers, Mr. James, 267 
 
 
 
 Cade, Jack, 5 n., 6, 107, 212, 362 
 Cadell, Mr. T., 310, 337, 423 
 Calverleys, 5, 106, 212, 361 
 Camden, Britannia, extract from, 
 
 96 
 Camden Lectures, founding of the,. 
 
 72 n. 
 Cantwell, M., 339 n. 
 Caplen, Richard, 422 
 Capperonnier, Jean, 202 n., 262 
 Care, Mr. Harry, 371 
 Caroline, Col., 380 
 Caxton, 6 n. 
 Cayius, Count de, 171, 172, 201, 
 
 261 
 Cazotte, Jacques, 49 n. 
 Ceuis, Mount, 266, 302, 405 
 Charles IL, 8 
 Charles Emanuel III., King of 
 
 Sardinia, 266 
 Chatillon, Marie Jeanne de, 204 n. 
 Chavis, Dom, 49 n. 
 Chelsum, Rev. J., 317 n., 322 n. 
 Cheselden, Dr., 34 n. 
 Chesttrfield, Earl of, 176, 280, 
 
 300 n., 327 n., 409 
 Chillingworth, Mr. William, 89, 
 
 129, 229, 297, 395 
 Ciioiseul, Duke of, 320 n. 
 Cliurch, Dr., 84 n. 
 Clairon, 204, 262 
 Clarendon, Lord, 65 n. 
 Clarke, Mr. Godfrey, 273 
 Cleaver, Rev. Mr.. 273 n. 
 Clifte, 22, 110, 216, 345 n., 386 
 Colet, Dean, Lis severity to boys, 
 
 60, 101 
 Collins, Anthony, 66 n. 
 Colman, Mr., 307 n. 
 Condamine, Cliarles M. do la, 
 
 201 n., 261 
 Connoisseur, No. XL, extract from, 
 
 82 
 Cooke, Captain Edward, A Voyage 
 
 to the South Sea, 42 n. 
 Cooper, Sir Grey, 52 n., 53 n.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 427 
 
 Corsellis, Frederic, 6 n. 
 
 Coventry, Lord, 7, 367 
 
 Cranbrook, 185,253,358 
 
 Craufurd, Mr., 327 n. 
 
 Craufurd, John, 424 
 
 Crevier, J. B. L., 145, 235, 298, 
 
 398 
 Cromer, Sir James, 5 n., 362 
 Cromer, William, 106, 212, 302 
 Cromers, 5, 106. 212 
 Cromwell, Thomas, Earl of Essex, 3 
 Crook, Sir John, 360 
 Crousaz, Jean P. de, 135, 234; his 
 
 System of Logic, 136, 234, 397 
 Curchod, Mdlle. Susanne, 150, 238, 
 
 298, 398 
 
 D 
 
 Dalrymple, Sir D., 318 
 
 Darner, Hon. George, 273 n. 
 
 Dumer, Hon. John, 273 7i. 
 
 Dairel, Mr., 19 
 
 Davies, Mr., 316, 317 n., 322 
 
 Delme', Mr., 30 
 
 Deameuniers, M., 339 n. 
 
 Devizes, 186, 253, 401 
 
 Deyverdun, Mr. George, 134, 140, 
 238, 272, 276, 298, 301 n., 303, 
 327, 398, 407, 421, 423; his wish 
 for employment, 278 ; The Bath 
 Guide, 279, 409 ; death, 340 
 
 Diderot, 201, 261 
 
 Dodington, Mr., 30 7i. 
 
 Dodwell, Dr., 84 n. ; his Prsslec- 
 tiones, etc., 72 n. 
 
 Dover, 185, 253, 401 
 
 Duclos, Charles P., 201 n., 261 
 
 Dugdale, Sir W., 8, 368 
 
 Dumesnil, 204, 262 
 
 Dummer, Mr., 30 
 
 Dunning, Mr., 307 n., 321 
 
 E 
 
 Eden, Mr., 321 n. 
 
 Edgar, Sir Gregory, 7, 365 
 
 Edgar, Thomas, 305 
 
 Edgars of Suffolk, 5, 106, 212, 365 
 
 Edmonstone, Col., 273 n. 
 
 Edward III., 2, 107, 213, 293, 357, 
 
 359 
 Edwards, Dr., 319 n. 
 Effingham, Earl of, 186, 254 
 Einsidlen, Abbey of, 145, 237 
 Election, the general, of 1741, 30,. 
 
 217 
 Eliot, Lady, 21, 110, 216, 309 n., 
 
 392 
 Eliot, Lord, 130, 309, 322, 385, 422 
 Eliot, Hon. John, 422, 424 
 Eliot, Hon. William, 422 
 EUenbriggs, 5, 100, 212,301 
 EUiston, Capt. Edward, 21, 109, 
 
 210, 384, 392 
 Elliston, Catherine, 130 n., 309 «., 
 
 384 
 Elmsley, Mr. Peter, 310, 422 
 England, militia of, 178 
 Erasmus, extract from Pueros de 
 
 virtutem, etc., 60, 101 
 Esher, 55, 116, 222 
 Espagne, Etat de V, extract from, 97 
 
 F 
 
 Fabricius, Johann Albert, 80 n. ; 
 
 Bibliotheca Latina, 45 
 Fellow, extract from The Journal 
 
 of a Senior, etc., 76, 103 
 Fer(Mnand IV., 268 
 Ferd'inand VI., 29, 97 
 Fiens, James, Baron Say and Scale, 
 
 5, 106, 212, 294, 362 
 Finden, Mr., 78 n. 
 Fisher, 89 
 
 Florence, 267, 302, 405 
 Foncemagne, Etienne L. de, 204 n., 
 
 202, 301, 314 
 Fontenelle, 201, 348 
 Foothead, 322 n. 
 Ford, Phoebe, 423 
 Fox, Lady Caroline, 55 n. 
 Fox, Sir Stephen, 309 
 Fox, Charles James, 55 n. 
 Fox, Mr., 307 n., 320, 331
 
 428 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 France, revolution in, 342 
 Francis, Rev. Philip, 55, 116, 222; 
 
 his tragedies, 55 n. 
 Freind, Robert, 51 n. 
 Frey, Mr., 180, 229 
 Froulay, Countess de, 314 n. 
 
 G 
 
 Galland, Antoine, Mille et une 
 Nuifs, 49 n. 
 
 Garrick, Mr., 204 n., 307 n. 
 
 Gascoygne, Sir Thomas, 273 71. 
 
 Genoa, 26G, 302, 405 
 
 Geoffrin, Mme., 203, 262, 301, 404 
 
 George I., 14 
 
 Gesner, Prof. Matthew, 146, 235, 
 298, 398 
 
 Giannone, his Civil History of 
 Naples, 143 
 
 Gibbon, Catherine, 17, 21, 109, 216, 
 383, 392 
 
 Gibbon, Mrs. Dorothea, 289, 295, 
 399, 421; retires to Bath, 290, 
 306, 415 
 
 Gibbon, Edmund, 2 n., 4, 106, 212, 
 293 n., 360 
 
 Gibbon, Edmund, founder of the 
 free school in Beneuden, 2 w., 
 360 
 
 Gibbon, Edward, hia birth in 1666, 
 10, 108, 214, 294, 374; appointed 
 Commissioner of the Customs, 11, 
 108, 214, 294, 374, 391 ; Director 
 of the South Sea Company, 11, 
 108, 214, 294, 374, 391; his 
 sentence, 15, 109, 215, 378 ; death, 
 17, 216, 294, 391 
 
 Gibbon, Edward, his birth in 1707, 
 17, 110, 216, 294, 392 ; education, 
 17, 110, 217; in France, 18; 
 elected for Petersfield, 18, 110, 
 217, 294, 392 ; marriage, 19, 111, 
 217, 295; elected for South- 
 ampton, 30, 110, 113, 217, 294, 
 392 ; accepts the office of Alder- 
 man, 31 ; his character, 31, 382, 
 392 ; grief at the loss of his wife> 
 
 45, 218, 378, 392 ; reasons for his 
 retirement to Buriton, 47, 155, 
 :;80-383, 392; his second wife, 
 157, 242, 295, 399; accepts a 
 commission of major, 183, 252 ; 
 resignation, 272; illness and 
 death, 288, 306, 413 j 
 Gibbon, Edward, his ancestors, 1-23, 
 106, 211, 293, 358-374, 391 ; arms, 
 4, 359 ; grandfather, 10, 108, 214, 
 294, 374, 391 ; father, 17, 31, 216, 
 
 294, 378, 392; aunts, 21, 109, 
 216, 383 ; birth, 28, 105, 211, 295, 
 391 ; his mother, 31, 111, 218, 
 295; infancy, 34, 112, 392; feeble 
 health, 35, 112, 219, 295, 392; 
 tenderness and care of his aunt 
 Catherine, 36, 48, 111, 117, 219, 
 
 295, 392 : education, 38, 113, 220, 
 
 295, 393 : his tutor Mr. Kirkby, 
 39, 113, 22a, 295, 393; at Kings- 
 ton, 43, 114, 221, 295, 393; death 
 of his mother, 45, 115, 221, 378; 
 love of reading, 48, 117, 134, 222, 
 
 296, 393 ; at Westminster School, 
 50, 115, 221, 296, 393 ; at Bath, 
 53, 116, 222; at Esher, 55, 116, 
 222; at Oxford, 56, 63, 117, 222, 
 296,394; early reading, 56, 119, 
 222 ; criticism of the universities, 
 67, 123, 225; tutors, 77, 81, 125, 
 126, 225; neglect of his educa- 
 tion, 77, 81, 125, 225, 394 ; first 
 essay, Tlie Age of Sesostris, 79, 
 122, 224 ; life at Oxford, 82, 122, 
 225 ; conversion to the Romish 
 Church, 84-88, 128-130, 227, 296, 
 395 ; life at Lausanne, 131, 229, 
 
 297, 396; friendship with Mr. 
 Deyverdun, 134, 238, 272, 298, 
 398 ; unfitness for bodily exercise, 
 134, 236; reconversion, 137, 228 ; 
 plan of study, 137-140, 232, 397; 
 method of double translations, 
 138, 232, 397; study of Greek 
 Hterature, 141, 233, 398; of 
 mathematics, 141, 235; philo- 
 sophical studies, 142, 143, 234 ;
 
 INDEX. 
 
 429 
 
 tour of Switzerland, 144, 23G, 
 2!)7, 398 ; correspondence with 
 professors, 145, 235, 298, 398; 
 with Mr. Allamand, 146, 235, 
 298 n. ; received by Voltaire, 
 148, 238, 265 ; affection for Mdlle. 
 Curchod. 150, 239, 298, 398; 
 leaves Lausanne, 153, 241, 398; 
 entail cut off, 155, 243, 399; 
 return home, 156, 243, 271, 299, 
 399, 406; his stepmotlier, 157, 
 242, 399; life in London. 159, 
 244, 399; at Buriton, 162. 246, 
 286, 399; library, 164, 248; 
 method of reading. 166 ; Essai 
 sur V€tiide de la Litterature, 167, 
 250, 300, 400 ; publication of his 
 book, 170, 254, 402 ; its success. 
 171, 256, 300, 402; estimate of 
 his book, 172, 256, 403 ; use of 
 the French language, 175. 257, 
 300, 403 ; embraces the military 
 profession, 177, 252, 299, 400; 
 on the militia of England, 178 ; 
 accepts a commission of cap- 
 tain, 183, 252, 299; military 
 life, 184-188, 253, 401; wisli 
 to resign, 189, 260, 401 ; re- 
 sumes reading, 191, 257, 401 ; 
 plans for his intended historical 
 Essay, 193-197, 258 ; visits Paris, 
 198, 261, 301, 404; literary 
 friends, 201-205, 261-263, 301, 
 404; return to Lausanne, 205, 
 263, 301, 340, 404; preparations 
 for his Italian tour, 209, 265 ; 
 in Italy, 266-269, 302, 405; on 
 the use of foreign travel, 269 ; 
 promoted to the rank of Major 
 and Lieut.-Col. - Commandant, 
 272 ; member of various clubs, 
 273, 307, 406 ; resigns his com- 
 mission, 274; preparations for 
 writing the history of the revolu- 
 tion of Switzerland, 276, 407; 
 failure of his attempt, 277, 408 ; 
 Mernot'res Litteraires de la Grande 
 Bretagne, 279, 304, 408; second 
 
 volume, 280, 409 ; his Critical 
 Observations on the Sixth Bool: of 
 the JEneid,280, 282,304,410; pre- 
 paratory studies relative to his 
 history, 284-280,303,411; death 
 of his father, 288, 306, 413; in- 
 dependence, 289, 306, 415 ; pecu- 
 niary affairs, 290, 413 ; composi- 
 tion of his history, 308 ; elected 
 for Liskeard, 309 ; publication 
 of first volume of history, 310 ; 
 success of the work, 311 ; second 
 visit to Paris, 312 ; dispute with 
 Abbe' de Mably, 314 ; causes for 
 tlie delay of second volume, 315 ; 
 Vindication,31G; his antagonists, 
 317-319, 322 ; Memoire Justifica- 
 tif, 320 ; appointed Lord Commis- 
 sioner of Trade, 320 ; dissolution 
 of Parliament, 322 ; publication 
 of the second and third volumes, 
 322 ; elected for Lymington, 324 ; 
 loss of office, 325 ; tiie fourth 
 volume, 326, 331 ; settles at 
 Lausanne, 328; benefits of his 
 new home, 329 ; the fifth and 
 sixth volumes, 332 ; finishes his 
 history, 833 ; return to London, 
 334 ; publication of the last three 
 volumes, 336; reproach of in- 
 decency, 337 ; translations, 338, 
 339 ; death of his friend, 340 ; on 
 the revolution in France, 342 ; 
 bis mind and body, 344; estate, 
 345; experience as an author, 
 346 ; on the pride of ancestry, 
 354,417-419; his will, 420-424 
 
 Gibbon, Eleanor, 360 
 
 Gibbon, Frances, 360 
 
 Gibbon, Gervase, 360 
 
 Gibbon, Grizeld, 360 
 
 Gibbon, Mrs. Hester, 17, 21, 110, 
 216, 345, 383, 392; her spiritual 
 guide Mr. Law, 22, 110, 216, 386 ; 
 her charity, 22, 386 
 
 Gibbon. John, the Marmorarius or 
 Architect, 2, 107, 213, 358; grant 
 of an hereditary toll on the
 
 430 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 passage from Sandwich to Stonar, 
 2, 107, 213, 293 «., 359 
 ■Gibbon, Jubn, birth and early life, 
 
 7, 107, 213, 36G ; his passion for 
 Heraldry, 7, 368; title of Blue- 
 mantle Poursuivant at arms, 8, 
 107, 213, 293, 368; his friends, 
 
 8, 368 ; principles, 8, 108, 370 ; 
 verses, 9 n. ; publishes his Intro- 
 ductio ad Latinam Blasoniam, 9, 
 107, 213, 21)3, 369 ; death, 10 n. 
 
 Gibbon, Matthew, 7, 10, 107, 213, 
 
 363, 365 
 Gibbon, Eobert, 6, 7, 361, 363, 365^ 
 Gibbon, Thomas, Dean of Carlisle, 
 
 10, 366 
 Gibbon, Williams, 366 
 <Jilbert, Emily, 379 
 Godefroy, James, the commentary 
 
 of, 285 
 Goldsmith, Dr., 307 n. 
 Grafton, Duchess of, 151 
 Grafton, Duke of, 72 n. 
 Grammont, Memoirs of the Count 
 
 de, 5, 96, 361 
 Gray, Prof., 71 n. 
 Greece, militia of, 179 
 Gregory, Dr., 202 n. 
 Grenville, Lord, Oxford end Locke, 
 
 123 
 Grew, Dr. Nehemiali, 8, 368 
 Guignts, Joseph de, 202 n-, 261 
 Guischardt, Mr. C. T., Memoires 
 
 Militaires. 190, 258 
 Guise, Sir W., 205, 273 n. 
 Guizot, M., 338 ?*. 
 Gustavus Adolphus, 98 
 (xybbon, Edmund, of Hole, 2 n. 
 Gybbon, John, 2 n. 
 
 H 
 
 Hailes, Lord, 318 n. 
 Hall, Sir James, 268 
 Hamilton, Count, 177, 256, 300 n., 
 
 403 
 Hamilton, George, 96, 361 
 Hamilton, Mdlle., 96, 361 
 
 Hamilton, Sir W., 268 
 Hampshire Militia, South Battalion 
 
 of the, 183, 253, 299, 400 
 Hardwicke, Lord Chancellor, 4 n. 
 Harford, John S., extract fiom 
 
 BecoUections of William Wilher. 
 
 force, 52 n. 
 Harley, Kobert, 108 n. 
 Harris, John, 42 n. 
 Harrison, Colonel, 65 n. 
 Harte, Dr. Walter, extract from 
 
 his Life of Gustavus Adolphus, 
 
 42, 98, 99 
 Hastings, Mr., 336 
 Hawke, Sir Edward, 182 
 Hay ley, the poet, 43 n. 
 Hayley, Mr. William, 283, 305, 337, 
 
 410 
 Hearne, Thomas, Ductor Historicus, 
 
 .56, 120 
 Heddington Hill, 78, 125 
 Helvetius, Claude A., 203 n., 262, 
 
 301, 404 
 Heuly, Mr., 30 
 
 Renry VI., extracts from, 5 n., 6 n. 
 Heraldry, the study of, 4, 8, 107, 
 
 214,293,368 
 Heralds, College of, 4, 8, 107, 213, 
 
 359, 368 
 Hervey, Lady, 160, 172, 200, 245 
 Hextalls, 5, 106, 212, 361 
 Heyne, Prof., 283, 305, 410 
 Higgius, Mr., 315 
 Hilay, Mr., 43 n. 
 Histoire, Muniere d'^crire, extracts 
 
 from, 314 7i., 315 n., 332 n. 
 Hoadly, Benjamin, Bishop of Ban- 
 gor, 25, 389 
 Hoarc, Mr., 57, 120 
 Hobbes, Mr., 7, 367 
 Holbach, I?aron de, 203,262,301,404 
 Holland, Lord, 55 n. 
 Holroyd, Mr., 208, 273 n, 308, 334 
 Hope, Mr., 257 n. 
 Home, George, 75 n. 
 Hort, Sir John, 273 n. 
 Houssaye, Amelot de la, Hist, du 
 
 Gouv. de Venise, 14, 97
 
 INDEX. 
 
 431 
 
 Howard, Thomas, 18C n. 
 
 Hume, Sir Abraham, 327 n. 
 
 Hume, Mr. Alexander, 327 «., 409 
 
 H\mie, Mr. David, 280 ; his opinion 
 of Gibbon's MS., 277 n. ; his 
 letter to Edward Gibbon on 
 his History, 311-313 n.; death, 
 313 n. 
 
 Hunter, Dr., 315 
 
 Huntingtovver, liord, 53 n. 
 
 Hurd, Bishop of Worcester, 249, 
 281 «., 304 n., 318 n. 
 
 Hutchinson, Mrs., 22, 38G 
 
 Introductio ad Latinam Blasoniam, 
 extracts from, 9, 107, 213, 293 n., 
 294 n., 370 
 
 James I., 4, 363 
 
 Jenner, Dr., 75 n. 
 
 Jersey, Isle of, 7, 367 
 
 Johnson, James, 116 
 
 Johnson, Dr., 193, 307 ; extracts 
 
 from, 26, 55, 143 
 Jone?, Sir W., 307 n. 
 Jones, William, 75 n. 
 Jortin, Dr. John, 304 n. ; Life of 
 
 Erasmus, 39 n. 
 .Tosephus, extract from, 80, 103 
 Joy, Canon, 2 n. 
 
 K 
 
 Kingston-upon-Thames, 4:!, 114, 
 
 221, 295, 393 
 Kirk, 322 n. 
 Kirkby, Mr. John, tutor to Edward 
 
 Gibbon, 39, 113, 220, 295, 393; 
 
 author of th(3 Life of Automathes, 
 
 and a Latin Grammar, 41, 114, 
 
 220, 295, 393 
 Kirkpatrick, J., The Analysis of 
 
 Inoculation, 36, 98 
 Knight, Sir Keynolds, 422 
 
 Knight, extract from his Life of 
 
 John Colet, 101 
 Knipe, Thomas, 51 n. 
 Knox, Liberal Education, 70 n. 
 
 Langer, Mr., 356 
 
 Lardner, Dr., 285 
 
 Lausanne, 131, 205, 229, 263, 297, 
 301, 328, 396, 404 
 
 Law, Mr. William, 17,21, 110, 216, 
 345 n., 382, 386; extracts frum 
 his Serious Call, 21, 23, 384; 
 death, 23, 388 ; style of his 
 writings, 24, 388; his master- 
 work, the Serious Call, 26, 216, 
 389 
 
 Lawrence, Sir Jolm, 360 
 
 Lee, Col. Hon. R., 367 
 
 Legge, Mr., 163, 247 
 
 Leland, Dr. Thomas, 304 n. 
 
 Leman lake, 205, 239, 263, 326, 396 
 
 Lenborough, 290 
 
 Lepell, Mary, 160 n. 
 
 Lewis, Mr., 87, 129, 227 
 
 Limene river, 96 
 
 Liskeard, borough of, 309 
 
 Literary Club, 307 n. 
 
 Locke, Mr., 6(5 «., 123 ; on the 
 English mode of education, 64, 
 101 
 
 Loughborough, Lord, 320, 422 
 
 Louis XVI., 324 /». 
 
 Lowth, Bishop, on the Universit}'' 
 of Oxford, 64, 122 ; controversy 
 witli Warburton, 65 n., 282, 304, 
 410 ; on the poetry of the 
 Hebrews, 73, 124 
 
 Lymington, borough of, 324 
 
 M 
 
 Mabillon, Biplomatica, 209 
 Mably, Abbe' de, dispute with 
 
 Gibbon, 314 ; his writings, 315 n., 
 
 332 n. 
 Magdalen College, 73, 122, 224
 
 432 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Maizeaux, Mr. des, 297 n. 
 
 Mallet, Mr., 130, 160, 1G6, 170, 218, 
 245, 251, 255, 300, 402 ; extracts 
 from the Wedding-day, 16 n., 46, 
 218, 295 «., 309. 379, 385; his 
 life of Lord Bacon, 194, 300 n. ; 
 his tragedy of Elvira, 198 
 
 Mann, Sir Horace, 267 
 
 Markham, Dr., 94 
 
 Marsham, Sir John, Canon 
 Chronicus, 79 
 
 Mason, 71 n. 
 
 Maty, Dr., 170, 177, 255, 300; 
 Journal Britannique, 36, 98, 168, 
 
 251, 279, 309, 402, 408 
 Maurice, Prince, of Nassaii, 42 n. 
 Mead, Dr., 37, 112,220,392 
 Mesery, Mr. de, 207, 208, 236, 264, 
 
 404 
 Mesery, Mme. de, 208, 264 
 Meuselius, Bibliotheca Hisforica, 
 
 338 n. 
 Middleton, Dr.. 84 
 Middleton, Lord, 327 «., 409 
 Milan, 266, 302, 405 
 Militia, establishment of a, 180, 
 
 252, 299; dissolution, 188, 260, 
 401, 412 
 
 Milman, Dean, extract from, 174 «., 
 
 257 n., 282 n., 304 n. 
 Milner, Joseph, 317, 318 n. 
 Milton, extract from, 32 
 Mirabeau, Marquis de, 205 
 Mitchell. Mr., 380 
 Modena, 266 
 Mcerman, Mr., hia Origines Typo- 
 
 gruphiccB, 6 n. 
 Molesworth, Lord, author of the 
 
 State of Denmarli, 12, 376 
 Molesworth, Mr., 85 n. 
 Monrepori, Theatre of, 149, 207, 265 
 Monsun, Sir W., his Naval tracts, 
 
 195 
 Montague, Michel de, 37, 220 
 Montagu, Frederic, 53 n. 
 Montaigne, 154 
 Montalieu, ilme. de, 422 
 Montesquieu, 201, 268 
 
 Montfaucon, PalxograpMa, 209 
 
 Mores, Mr., 75 n. 
 
 Mothe, Mme. Catherine La, 
 
 Hidoire d'Hypolite, 49 n. 
 Mountstuart, Lord, 273 7t. 
 Muskerry, M., 96 
 
 N 
 
 Nancy, 153 
 
 Naples, 268, 302, 405 
 
 Naunton, Sir R., Fragmenta Re- 
 galia, 194 
 
 Necker, Mme., 239, 313, 331 
 
 Necker, M., 152, 239, 313, 331 
 
 Newenden, 1, 96, 357 
 
 Newton, Bishop, 323 n. 
 
 Nicholls, Norton, 424 
 
 Nicoll, Dr. John, Head-master of 
 Westminster School, 50, 116, 221 
 
 Nivernois, Duke de, 200 
 
 North, Lord, 52 n., 53 «., 320, 324, 
 326, 336 ; resignation, 325 
 
 Northington, Earl of, 30 
 
 Notes and Queries, 37 n. 
 
 O 
 
 Ockley, Simon, 42, 99 
 
 Oldys, Mr., his life of Sir Walter 
 Raleigh, 195 
 
 Orford, Lord, 30 
 
 Ossory, Lady, 151 
 
 Oxford, Lord, lOS, 374 
 
 Oxford, University of, 56, 117, 222, 
 296, 394 ; students, 63 ; degrees, 
 68; professors, 70, 225; scheme 
 for the reformation, 68, 101 ; 
 Magdalen Coll., 73, 122 ; Fellows, 
 74, 126 ; Tutors, 77 
 
 Page, Marie Anne Le, 203 n. 
 Palaye, Jean Baptiste de la Currie 
 
 de Ste., 201 «., 261 
 Palgrave, Rev. Mr., 273 n. 
 Paris, 198, 261, 301, 312
 
 INDEX. 
 
 433 
 
 Parliament, dissolution of, 322 
 
 Parma, 266 
 
 Parr, Dr., editor of the Warbur- 
 touian tracts, 2S1 n., 283 m.,305 n., 
 410 
 
 Pascal, the provincial letters of, 
 143 
 
 Patten, William, of Wainfieet, 73, 
 102 
 
 Patton, Miss Dorothea, 157, 242 
 
 Pavilliard, Mme., 131, 230 
 
 Pavilliard, M., 131, 135. 20G. 229, 
 264, 297, 396, 404 
 
 Percy, Dr., 307 n. 
 
 Petersfield, 18, 110, 217, 294, 392 
 
 Phsedrus, Fables of, 44 
 
 Phelips, 5 
 
 PhiUippe v., 97 
 
 Phillips of Tenterden, 4, 106, 212, 
 361 
 
 Pithou, Peter, 45 
 
 Pitt, C!ol., 170 
 
 Pitt, Mr., 180, 252 
 
 Pococke, Dr., 42, 99, 296 
 
 Points, Sir Robert, 360 
 
 Polignac, Cardinal de, 93 
 
 Porchcster Castle, 184, 254, 401 
 
 Porson, Mr., 323, 338 n. 
 
 Porten, Mrs. Catherine, 19, 45, 156, 
 241 ; her character, 48 ; care of 
 her nephew, 36, 48, 111, 117, 219, 
 295, 392 ; keeps a boarding-lioiise 
 for Westminster School, 50, 115, 
 221 
 
 Porten, Charlotte, 422 
 
 Porten, Mr. James, 19, 111, 217; 
 becomes bankrupt, 48, 115, 221 
 
 Porten, Judith, 19, 211 ; her mar- 
 riage, 28, 111, 217, 295; cha- 
 racter, 31, 218; death, 45, 115, 
 218, 295, 378 
 
 Porten, Sir Stanier, 421 
 
 Porten, Stanier, 19, 1 1 1, 421 
 
 Prideaux, Dr. Humphrey, 68, 101, 
 332 ; extracts from the Life of? 
 84 w. 
 
 Priestley, Dr., 318 
 
 Printing, art of, 6 
 
 Prussia, King of, 346 n. 
 Prussia, Prince Henry of, 331 
 Putney, 16, 28, 105, 211, 295, 391 
 
 Q 
 
 Queensborough Castle, 2, 107, 213, 
 
 293. 358 
 Quirini, Cardinal, 37, 74, 102, 103, 
 
 154 
 
 R 
 
 Eamsay, Chevalier, 257, 300 n. 
 
 403 
 Rauby, Mr., 98 
 Raynal, Guillaume T. F., 201 n., 
 
 261 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 174, 193, 
 
 307 n. 
 Rezzonico (Clement XIII.), 268 
 Ridley, Major, 273 «. 
 Robertson, Dr. W., 311, 422 
 Robinson Crusoe, 42 n. 
 Rockingham, Marquis of, 326 
 Rodet, Marie The'rese, 203 ;/. 
 Rogers, Captain Woodes, A Cruis- 
 ing Voyage round the World, 42 n. 
 Rogers, Prof. Thorold, extract from 
 
 Wealth of Nations, 52 «., 71 n. 
 Rolveuden, 1, lUG, 211, 293, 357, 
 
 391 
 Roman Club, 237, 406 ; members 
 
 of, 273 n. 
 Rome, 267, 302, 405 ; militia of, 179 
 Rother river, 96 
 Rousseau, 24 n., 201 ; OEuvres de, 
 
 44 n., 100, 298 «., 403 
 
 S 
 
 Sarnden, 2 n. 
 
 Saussure, M. Victor de, 420, 422 
 Say and Scale, Baron, 5, 106, 212, 
 294, 361 
 I Schwedt, Margrave of, 272 
 i Scott, Sir AVilliam, 93 
 ! Scott, IMr. George, 191, 380 
 
 2f
 
 434 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Segar, Sir William, 4, 360 
 Selkirk, Alexander, 42 n. 
 Septchenes, M. Le Clerc de, 339 n. 
 Septennial Act, 14 
 Serious Call, extract from, 47 
 Severy, Mme. de, 423 
 Severy, Mr. William, 340 n., 421 
 Shaftesbury, Lord, 101 
 Sheffield, Lady, 422 
 Sheffield, Lord, 308, 340, 345; his 
 political writings, 334, 335 n.; 
 appointed executor, 420 ; extracts 
 from, 4, 71, 87, 94, 136, 206, 247, 
 271, 273, 277, 281, 283, 327, 343, 
 353 notes. 
 Shelbume. Earl of, 326 
 Sherard, Mr., 98 
 Sheridan, Mr., 307 n., 336 
 Sherlock, Dr., 25 n. 
 Sherman, Dr., 366 
 Shippen, 12 n. 
 Sirmond, Father, 169 
 Sissinghurst, 185, 254, 401 
 Sloane, Sir Hans, 37, 98, 112, 220, 
 
 392 
 Smith, Dr. Adam, 307 7i., 422; 
 Wealth of Nations, 52 n., 296 n., 
 394 ; on Oxford, 71, 124 
 South Sea Company, 11, 108, 214, 
 294, 375 ; sentence of the Di- 
 rectors, 13, 109, 215, 377 
 Southampton, 30, 110, 113, 187, 217. 
 
 253, 294, 392 
 Spanish contracts, 29, 381 
 Spedalieri, Abhate Nicola, 322 n. 
 Spring, or la soci€te' du printems, 
 
 207, 264 
 Stanhope, Lord, 257 n. 
 Steevens, Mr., 307 n. 
 Stevens, 43 n. 
 Stonor, Monsignore, 322 n. 
 Storer, Mr. Anthony, 327 n. 
 Stormont, Lord, 320 
 Stourhead, 57, 120 
 Stowell, Lord, 93 n. 
 Strahan, Mr. Andrew, 337, 423 
 Strahan, Mr. William, 310 
 Stuart, Sir Simeon, 163, 247 
 
 Sturgeon, Major, 184 
 
 Suard, Jean Baptiste Autoinc, 262, 
 
 300 n. ; his description of Gibbon, 
 
 202 w. 
 Sunderland, Earl of, 376 
 Switzerland, militia of, 179 
 
 Taylor, Chevalier, 37, 112, 220,392 
 Taylor, Henry, 317 n. 
 Temple, Sir W., 176, 300 n. 
 Tenterden, 358 
 Theobald, Lewis, 24 n. 
 Thiry, Paul, Barou d'Holbach, 
 203 n. 
 
 Thou, J. A. de, extract from Eis- 
 
 toria sui Temporis, 100 
 Thoyras, M. Kapin de, 12n., 294 n. 
 Thrale, Mrs., 26 n. 
 
 Timperley's Encyclopaedia, 6 n. 
 Tindal, N., 12 n., 294 n. 
 
 Tissot, Dr., 330 
 
 Tom Jones, extract from, 347 
 
 Townley, Mr., 257 n. 
 
 Townshend, Lord, his scheme for 
 the reformation of the Univer- 
 sities, 68, 101 
 
 Trade, Board of, abolished, 325 
 
 Travis, George, 322 
 
 Traytorrens, Mr. de, 141, 235 
 
 Turin, 266, 302, 405 
 
 Venice, 268, 302, 405 
 Venise, Hist, du Gouv. de, 14, 97 
 Vicat, Prof., 142, 234 
 Virginia, colony of, 7, 367 
 Voltaire, 201, 206, 265, 297 ; his 
 residence at Lausanne, 148, 238, 
 
 298 n.; his theatre, 149, 238, 
 
 265, 398 
 Vossius, Gerard, 80 n. 
 
 W 
 
 Waldegrave, Dr., 77-79, 93, 125, 
 
 225 
 Waller, Mr., 380
 
 INDEX. 
 
 435 
 
 Walpole, Sir R., 19, 110, 217, 294, 
 
 392 : resignation, 30 
 Walpole, Mr., 200 
 Warburton, Bishop, controversy 
 
 with Bishop Lowth, 65 n. ; on 
 
 toleration, 65 n. ; hypothesis of, 
 
 281, 304, 305, 410 
 Ward, 37, 112, 220, 392 
 Wartoii, Dr., 69 «., 307 ?i. ; on 
 
 Alciphron, 26 n. 
 Warton, Mr. Joseph, 838 rt. 
 Warton, Mr. Thomas, 307 n. 
 Watson, Dr., Bishop of Llandaflf, 
 
 317, 322 
 Weald, or Woodland, 1, 357 
 Weddal, William, 273 n. 
 Wedderburne, Mr., 320 
 Westminster School, 50. 115, 221, 
 
 295, 393 
 Wetenhall, M. de, 96 
 Weymouth, Lord, 319 
 Whetnalls of East Peckham, 4, 5, 
 
 106, 212, 361 
 
 Whiston, Mr. W., Emenrlanda in 
 
 Academia, 68, 102 
 White, Dr., 318 
 
 Whittaker, Dr.. extract from, 306 
 Williams, Six- William Peere, 385 
 Winchester, Bishop of. founded 
 
 Magdalen College, 73 
 Winchester, Dr., 81, 93, 126, 226 
 Wiseman, Simon, 365 
 Wooddesdon, Richard, 43 7i., 114 7t. 
 Woodson, Dr., 43, 114, 221 
 Worsley, Sir Richard, 280, 327 n., 
 
 409 
 Worsley, Sir Thomas, 183, 189, 
 
 253. 259, 400; death, 272 
 Wurtemburg, Ludwig Eugene of, 
 
 206 
 
 York, Duke of, S. 170, 255 
 Yule, Col., his Glossary of Anglo- 
 Indian Words and Phrases, 66 n. 
 
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