the sea-ports, the people have not yet a taint of revolution-ideas. With the Countess de Aranda

you would be in love. She is very like your nutbrown. Sylva. There is a singular privilege in the house of her father; it is that he has a right to create a grandee of Spain of the first order. He generally makes his son.

Poor Florida Blanca is in prison on the frontiers of France, and nearly in the same strict custody with that which our friend Gil Blas suffered at Segovia. He had great views, was an active minister, and has done much good to his country. He had managed the last famous meeting of the Cortes, which secured to the Queen certain powers, and he then fell the victim of his own manage

ment.

The person who has won most of my esteem and regard in Spain is the Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo. He was Archbishop of Mexico; wrote a history of Cortez's expedition, which the Inquisition thought too free. He gave me a copy of it, being, he said, the only one remaining. He made me visit Toledo, and was really friendly to me. Speaking of religion, he said there was but one, and the word explained itself, religo; it kept society together. His revenues are about 100,000%. a-year, and he has opened his purse, as far as it can go, to the unfortunate French clergy.

From Madrid I took my route to Valencia, where I passed some pleasant and instructive hours with the Count O'Reilly. I found him remarkably well informed, with great activity of mind, and a good

VOL. II.

ΙΙ

good deal of the genius of your friend Burke, tempered by long experience in affairs.. The day I left Valencia for Barcelona, I visited the ancient Saguntum. Nature could not have formed a nobler place for defence, nor a more noble conquest for Hannibal to start from his transalpine journey. From Barcelona, resembling one of our best trading ports, I embarked for Genoa.

N° CCLV.

M. NECKER à M. GIBBON.

Rolle, Mars 19, 1793.

Nous comptons, Monsieur, quitter Rolle vers la fin du mois. La santé de Madame Necker la rend impatiente de changer d'air, et nous irons plus ou moins long tems nous établir à Copet. Nous avons toujours en perspective d'aller passer quelques jours avec vous, et nous prendrons le moment où nos idées sur l'avenir seront plus arrêtées. Peutêtre aurions-nous le plaisir de vous recevoir auparavant; il y auroit bien de la grace à vous à en user ainsi. On a toujours plus besoin d'un ami tel que vous. Il nous en coûte véritablement de renà un autre moment le plaisir que nous nous proposions, mais nous l'aurons sans cesse en perspective, et je laisserai alors à Madame Necker la satisfaction de vous l'annoncer. Je lui ai promis, foi de votre raison, de votre indulgence, et de votre amitié, que vous approuverez ce petit dérangement; et que vous ne serez pas moins disposé à nous recevoir avec bonté dans un autre moment.

voyer

L'addresse

L'addresse de ma fille est à Juniper Hall, via London. Je vous ai addressé, il y a trois jours, une lettre de cette dame, qui ne sçait encore ce qu'elle fera. Son mari est à Paris, mais sans caractère diplomatique: il nous laisse ignorer s'il a dessein de venir ici, et il n'a écrit qu'une lettre fort courte à Madame Necker.

N° CCLVI.

EDWARD GIBBON, Esq. to the Right Honourable Lady ELIZABETH FOSTER, at Florence.

Lausanne, April 4th, 1793.

HAD I not given previous notice of my own unworthiness, the plea of being an old incorrigible offender would serve only to aggravate my guilt; it is still sufficiently black, and I can patiently hear every reproach, except the cruel and unjust imputation of having forgotten my fair friends of the Arno and the Tyber. They would indeed have been less present to my thoughts, had I maintained a regular weekly correspondence; since, by the effect of my negligence, not a day has elapsed without a serious, though fruitless, resolution of writing by the very next post. What may have somewhat contributed, besides original sin, to this vile procrastination, is the course of events that has filled this abominable winter. As long as the poor King's fate was in suspense, one waited from post to post, between hope and fear, and when the blow was struck, even Shakespeare's language was inadequate to express our grief and indignation. I have never approved the execution of Charles the First;

yet Charles had invaded, in many respects, the ancient constitution of England, and the question had been judged in the field of Naseby before it was tried in Westminster-hall. But Louis had given and suffered every thing. The cruelty of the French was aggravated by ingratitude, and a life of innocence was crowned by the death of a saint, or, what is far better, of a virtuous prince, who deserves our pity and esteem. He might have lived and reigned, had he possessed as much active courage as he was endowed with patient fortitude. When I read the accounts from home, of the universal grief and indignation which that fatal event excited, I indeed gloried in the character of an Englishman. Our national fame is now pure and splendid; we have nobly stood forth in the common cause of mankind; and although our armaments are somewhat slow, I still persuade myself that we shall give the last deadly wound to the Gallic hydra. The King of Prussia is likewise slow, and your poor friend, the Duke of Brunswick, is now not censured but forgotten. We turn our eyes to the Prince of Cobourg and his Austrians, and it must be confessed, that the deliverance of Holland and Brabant from such a dragon as Dumourier is a very tolerable employment for the month of March. These blossoms of the spring will be followed, it may be fairly hoped, by the fruits of summer; and in the meanwhile the troubles of Paris, and the revolt of the provinces, may promote, by the increase of anarchy, the restoration of order. I see that restoration

through

through a dark cloud; but if France be lost, the rest of Europe, I believe and trust, will be saved. But amidst the hurricane, I dare not fix my eyes on the Temple. So much for politics, which now engross the waking and sleeping thoughts of every feeling and thinking animal. In this country we are tranquil, and I believe safe, at least for this summer; though peace has been purchased at some expense of national honour, of the old reputation of Swiss courage, we have crouched before the tiger, and stroked him till he has sheathed his claws, and ceased for a moment to roar. My journey to England this year must depend on the events of the campaign; as I am fully resolved rather to remain quiet another autumn and winter in my sweet habitation, than to encounter the dangers of the sea and land. I envy the pleasures which you and your companions have enjoyed at Florence and Rome; nor can I decide which have tasted the most perfect delight, those to whom such beauties were new, or those to whom they were familiar. A fine eye, correct judgment, and elegant sensibility, are requisite to qualify the studious traveller; and these gifts have been liberally dispensed among the Ouchy caravan. when you have been gratified, though not satiated, with the Hesperian prospect, to what fortunate clime will you direct your footsteps? Have we any hopes of meeting (for my journey, at all events, would be late) in the shades, or rather in the sunshine, of Ouchy? Should Mount Cenis be still imperious, you have trampled on St. Bernard II 3

But

in