Notwithstanding these urgent reasons, Eusebius has observed a profound, and perhaps a prudent silence: though he frequently celebrates the merit and martyrdom of his friend Pamphilus (p. 371, 394, 419, 427, edit. Cantab.), he never insinuates that he was his companion in prison; and while he copiously describes the eight years' persecu tion of Palestine, he never represents himself in any other light than that of a spectator. Such a conduct in a writer, who relates with a visible satisfaction the honourable events of his own life, if it be not absolutely considered as an evidence of conscious guilt, must excite, and may justify, the suspicions of the most candid critic.

Yet the firmness of Dr. Randolph is not shaken by these rational suspicions; and he condescends, in a magisterial tone, to inform me, "That it is highly improbable, from the general well-known decision of the church in such cases, that had his apostasy been known, he would have risen to those high honours which he attained, or been admitted at all indeed to any other than lay communion." This weighty objection did not surprise me, as I had already seen the substance of it in the Prolegomena of Valesius; but I safely disregarded a difficulty which had not appeared of any moment to the national council of Egypt; and I still think that an hundred bishops, with Athanasius at their head, were as competent judges of the discipline of the fourth century, as even the Lady Margaret's Professor of Divinity in the University of Oxford. As a work of supererogation, I have consulted, however, the Antiquities of Bingham (see lib. iv. c. iii. s. 6, 7, vol. i. p. 144, &c., fol. edit.), and found, as I expected, that much real learning had made him cautious and modest. After a careful examination of the facts and authorities already known to me, and of those with which I was supplied by the diligent antiquarian, I am persuaded that the theory and the practice of discipline were not invariably the same, that particular examples cannot always be reconciled with general rules, and that the stern laws of justice often yielded to motives of policy and convenience. The temper of Jerome towards those whom he considered as heretics, was fierce and unforgiving; yet the Dialogue of Jerome against the Luciferians, which I have read with infinite pleasure (tom. ii. p. 135 -147. edit. Basil., 1536), is the seasonable and dexterous performance of a statesman, who felt the expediency of soothing and reconciling a numerous party of offenders. The most rigid discipline, with regard to the ecclesiastics who had fallen in time of persecution, is expressed in the tenth canon of the council of Nice; the most remarkable indulgence was shown by the fathers of the same council to the lapsed, the degraded, the schismatic bishop of Lycopolis. Of the penitent sinners, some might escape the shame of a public conviction or confession, and others might be exempted from the rigour of clerical punishment. If Eusebius incurred the guilt of a sacrilegious promise, (for we are free to accept the milder alternative of Potamon,) the proofs of this criminal transaction might be suppressed by the influence of money or favour; a seasonable journey into Egypt might allow time for the popular rumours to subside; the crime of Eusebius might be protected by the impunity of many

episcopal apostates (see Philostorg. lib. ii. c. 15, p. 21, edit. Gothofred.); and the governors of the church very reasonably desired to retain in their service the most learned Christian of the age.

Before I return these sheets to the press, I must not forget an anonymous pamphlet, which, under the title of "A Few Remarks," &c. was published against my History in the course of last summer. The unknown writer has thought proper to distinguish himself by the emphatic yet vague appellation of a Gentleman: but I must lament that he has not considered, with becoming attention, the duties of that respectable character. I am ignorant of the motives which can urge a man of a liberal mind, and liberal manners, to attack without provocation, and without tenderness, any work which may have contributed to the information, or even to the amusement of the public. But I am well convinced that the author of such a work, who boldly gives his name and labours to the world, imposes on his adversaries the fair and honourable obligation of encountering him in open daylight, and of supporting the weight of their assertions by the credit of their names. The effusions of wit, or the productions of reason, may be accepted from a secret and unknown hand. The critic who attempts to injure the reputation of another, by strong imputations which may possibly be false, should renounce the ungenerous hope of concealing behind a mask the vexation of disappointment, and the guilty blush of detection.

After this remark, which I cannot make without some degree of concern, I shall frankly declare, that it is not my wish or my intention to prosecute with this Gentleman a literary altercation. There lies between us a broad and unfathomable gulf; and the heavy mist of prejudice and superstition, which has in a great measure been dispelled by the free inquiries of the present age, still continues to involve the mind of my adversary. He fondly embraces those phantoms (for instance, an imaginary Pilate,*) which can scarcely find a shelter in the gloom of an Italian convent; and the resentment which he points against me, might frequently be extended to the most enlightened of the Protestant, or, in his opinion, of the Heretical critics. His observations are divided into a number of unconnected paragraphs, each of which contains some quotation from my History, and the angry, yet commonly trifling, expression of his disapprobation and displeasure. Those sentiments I cannot hope to remove; and as the religious opinions of this Gentleman are principally founded on the infallibility of the church,† they are not calculated to make a very deep impression on the mind of the English reader. The view of facts will be materially affected by the contagious influence of doctrines. The man who refuses to judge of the conduct of Louis XIV. and Charles V. towards their protestant subjects, declares himself incapable of distinguishing the limits of persecution and toleration. The devout papist, who has implored on his knees the intercession of St. Cyprian, will seldom presume to examine the actions of the saint by the rules of historical evidence and of moral propriety. Instead of the homely likeness which I had * Remarks, p. 100. Id. p. 111.

+ Id. p. 15.

exhibited of the bishop of Carthage, my adversary has substituted a life of Cyprian,* full of what the French call onction, and the English, canting (see Jortin's Remarks, vol. ii. p. 239): to which I can only reply, that those who are dissatisfied with the principles of Mosheim and Le Clerc, must view with eyes very different to mine, the ecclesiastical history of the third century.

It would be an endless discussion (endless in every sense of the word) were I to examine the cavils which start up and expire in every page of this criticism, on the inexhaustible topic of opinions, characters, and intentions. Most of the instances which are here produced are of so brittle a substance, that they fall in pieces as soon as they are touched: and I searched for some time before I was able to discover an example of some moment where the Gentle man had fairly staked his veracity against some positive fact asserted in the two last chapters of my History. At last I perceived that he has absolutely denied+ that any thing can be gathered from the epistles of St. Cyprian, or from his treatise De Unitate Eeclesiæ, to which I had referred, to justify my account of the spiritual pride and licentious manners of some of the confessors. As the numbers of

the Epistles are not the same in the edition of Pamelius and in that of Fell, the critic may be excused for mistaking my quotations, if he will acknowledge that he was ignorant of ecclesiastical history, and that he had never heard of the troubles excited by the spiritual pride of the confessors, who usurped the privileges of giving letters of communion to penitent sinners. But my reference to the treatise De Unitate Ecclesiæ was clear and direct; the treatise itself contains only ten pages, and the following words might be distinctly read by any person who understood the Latin language. "Nee quisquam miretur, dilectissimi fratres, etiam de confessoribus quos dam ad ista procedere, inde quòque aliquos tam nefanda tam gravia peccare. Neque enim confessio immunem facit ab insidiis diaboli; aut contra tentationes, et pericula, et incursus atque impetus seculares adhuc in seculo positum perpetuâ securitate defendit: ceterùm nunquam in confessoribus, fraudes, et stupra, et adulteria postmodùm videremus, quæ nunc in quibusdam videntes ingemiscimus et dolemus. This formal delaration of Cyprian, which is followed by several long periods of admonition and censure, is alone sufficient to expose the scandalous vices of some of the confessors, and the disingenuous behaviour of my concealed adversary.

After this example, which I have fairly chosen as one of the most specious and important of his objections, the candid reader would excuse me, if from this moment I declined the Gentleman's acquaintance. But as two topics have occurred, which are intimately connected with the subject of the preceding sheets, I have inserted each of them in its proper place, as the conclusion of the fourth article of my answers to Mr. Davis, and of the first article of my reply to the confederate doctors, Chelsum and Randolph.

It is not without some mixture of mortification and regret, that I now look back to the number of hours which I have consumed, and * Remarks, p. 72-88. Gibbon, p. 661, note 91.

+ Id. p. 90, 91.

the number of pages which I have filled, in vindicating my literary and moral character from the charges of wilful misrepresentations, gross errors, and servile plagiarisms. I cannot derive any triumph or consolation from the occasional advantages which I may have gained over three adversaries, whom it is impossible for me to consider as objects either of terror or of esteem. The spirit of resentment, and every other lively sensation, have long since been extinguished; and the pen would long since have dropped from my weary hand, had I not been supported in the execution of this ungrateful task, by the consciousness, or at least by the opinion, that I was discharging a debt of honour to the public and to myself. I am impatient to dismiss, and to dismiss FOR EVER, this odious controversy, with the success of which I cannot surely be elated; and I have only to request, that, as soon as my readers are convinced of my innocence, they would forget my Vindication.

Bentinck-street, February 3rd, 1779.

ANTIQUITIES OF THE HOUSE OF BRUNSWICK.

MR. GIBBON TO MR. LANGER.

Rolle, 12th October, 1790.

Sir,--I should have acknowledged sooner your kindness in proeuring for me the Origines Guelficæ, if I had not been told by our obliging bookseller, Mr. Pott, that you were on a journey, while I myself was confined with the longest and most severe fit of the gout that I ever experienced. But we are now, both of us, restored to our ordinary state; I can walk, and you no longer travel post. I suppose by this time you are thoroughly established, and deeply immured in your immense library. Your curiosity, perhaps your friendship, will desire to know what have been my amusements, labours, and projects during the two years that have elapsed since the last publication of my great work. To indiscreet questions on this subject, with which I am often teased, I answer vaguely or peevishly; but from you I would keep nothing concealed; and to imitate the frankness in which you so much delight, will freely confess, that I more readily trust you with my secret, because I greatly need your assistance. After returning from England, the first months were spent in the enjoyment of my liberty and my library; and you will not be surprised that I should have renewed my familiar acquaintance with the Greek authors, and vowed to consecrate to them daily a portion of my leisure. I pass over in silence the sad hours employed in the care of my friend, and in lamentation for his loss.

*This letter, without any address to it, was found with the manuscript of the Antiquities of the House of Brunswick: there can be little doubt of its being the copy of a letter to M. Langer, Librarian to the Ducal Library of Wolfenbuttel; and it is here inserted as relating to them.

When the agitation of my mind abated, I endeavoured to find out for myself some occupation more interesting and more invigorating than mere reading can afford. But the remembrance of a servitude of twenty years frightened me from again engaging in a long undertaking, which I might probably never finish. It would be better, I thought, to select from the historical monuments of all ages, and all nations, such subjects as might be treated separately, both agreeably to their own nature, as well as to my taste. When these little works, which might be entitled Historical Excursions, amounted to a volume, I would offer it to the public; and the present might be repeated, until either the public or myself were tired; for as each volume would be complete in itself, no continuation would be requisite; and instead of being obliged to follow, like the stagecoach, the high road, I would expatiate at large in the field of history, stopping to admire every beautiful prospect that opened to my view. One inconvenience, indeed, attends this design. An important subject grows and expands with the labour bestowed on it. I might thus be carried beyond my prescribed bounds; but I should be carried gently, without foresight and without constraint.

This suspicion was justified in my first excursion, the subject of which will explain the reason why I was so earnest to procure the Origines Guelficæ. In my History, I had given an account of two illustrious marriages; the first, of the son of Azo, Marquis of Este, with the daughter of Robert Guiscard; and the second, of a princess of Brunswick with the Greek emperor. The first view of the antiquity and grandeur of the house of Brunswick excited my curiosity, and made me think that the two nations, whom I esteem the most, might be entertained by the history of a family, which sprung from the one, and reigns over the other. But my researches showed me not only the beauty, but the extent and difficulty of my subject. Muratori and Leibnitz have sufficiently explained the origin of the marquises of Liguria, and perhaps of Tuscany: I am well acquainted with the history and monuments of Italy during the middle ages; and I am not satisfied with what I have already written concerning that branch of the family of Este, which continued to reside in its hereditary possessions. I am not unacquainted with the ancient Guelphs, nor incapable of giving an account of the power and downfall of their heirs, the dukes of Bavaria and Saxony. The succession of the house of Brunswick to the crown of Great Britain will doubtless form the most interesting part of my narrative; but the authors on this subject are in English; and it would be unpardonable in a Briton not to have studied the modern history and present constitution of his country. But there is an interval of four hundred and fifty years between the first Duke of Brunswick and the first elector of that family; and the design of my work compels me to follow in obscurity a rough and narrow path; where, by the division and subdivision of so many branches and so many territories, I shall be involved in the mazes of a genealogical labyrinth. The events, which are destitute of connexion as well as of splendour, are confined to a single province of Germany; and I must have reached