cines. You have perhaps heard of that man, so extraordinary in every respect. As I have been rather indifferent myself all the winter, I have been also availing myself of his medicines; but as the Count's stay here is any thing but certain, your best way will be to write to me, to the care of M. Bourcard du Kirshgarten, at Basle.

You will understand how necessary it is, in every respect, that you should write to me, without loss of time, as soon as you have made up your mind. Adieu, my dear friend.

CLII. MR. GIBBON TO MR. DEYVERDUN.

I received your letter of the 10th of June on the 21st of that month, and to-day, the 24th, I put my hand to my pen (as M. Fréron says) to answer it, though my missive cannot start, owing to the time of the post, till next Friday, the 27th instant. Oh the wonders of efficacious grace! It acts no less efficaciously upon you, and by making use of the ever ready and prompt assistance of our couriers, one month is sufficient for our question and answer. I return a thousand thanks to the Genius of Friendship who impelled me, after a thousand useless efforts, to write to you at the most critical and favourable moment. Never did any transaction so perfectly answer all my wishes and hopes. I reckoned undoubtingly upon the duration and sincerity of your sentiments; but I did not know (such is the weakness of human nature) how far they might have been cooled by time and absence, and I was still more uncertain as to what might be the present state of your health, circumstances, and connexions, which might oppose so many obstacles to our union. You write to me, you still love me; you desire with zealous ardour the realisation of our former projects; you can do it, you will do it ; you offer me in the autumn your house, and what a house! your terrace, and what a terrace! your society, and what society! The arrangement is convenient for both of us; I shall again find at once the companion of my youth, a sage counsellor, and a delineator who can represent, and even exaggerate the most cheerful objects. These exaggerations give at least as much pleasure as the simple truth. If your description was precisely exact, these embellishments would exist only exteriorly to ourselves, and I like still better to find them in the vivacity of your spirits and imagination. It is not because I do not recognise a great depth of truth in your picture of Lausanne; I know the scene, I transport myself in fancy to our terrace, I see those small hills, that lake, those mountains, the favourite works of nature, and I can, without difficulty, conceive of the embellishments which your taste is pleased to add to them. I can recall from the period of thirty years ago, the manners, spirit, and ease of the society there, and I can comprehend that this truly genteel and good company is still perpetuated, and grows more refined from father to son, or rather from mother to daughter; for it has always appeared to me that at Lausanne, as well as in France, the women are greatly superior to the men. In such a dwelling I should fear dissipation much more than ennui, and the vortex of bustle at Lausanne would

Y

astonish a philosopher accustomed, for so many years, to the tranquillity of London. You are too well-informed to regard this assertion merely as a bad joke; it is in narrow straits that we are drawn away by rapid currents, while there are none in the open sea. Whenever one no longer seeks for riotous pleasures, and willingly escapes from laborious duties, then the tranquillity of a single individual is assured by the immensity of the metropolis. As for myself, my application to my great work, the habit, and the reward of labour, have made me more studious, more sedentary, and fonder of seclusion. The house of commons and grand dinners take up a great deal of time; and the temperance of an English meal allows you to taste five or six different sorts of wine, and compels you to drink a bottle of claret after the dessert. But after all, I never take supper, I go to bed early, I receive but few visits; the mornings are long, the summers are free, and as soon as I shut my door I am forgotten by all the world. In a more limited and friendly state of society, proceedings are public and rights are reciprocal, dinner is early, and the pleasures of each other's society are too fully tasted not to pass the afternoon together; supper is taken, one sits up late, and the evening's pleasures do not fail to break in upon the night's rest, and to derange the next day's work. What, however, is the result of my complaints? It comes to this;-that the bride is too beautiful, and that I may dare to make use of the honest excuse of my state of health, and the privilege of a man of letters: it will only depend upon myself to moderate the excess of my enjoyments. As for that enthusiastic fondness which you mention to me, and which is always the fault of the most lively of nations, I have already experienced it on a larger stage. It is now six years since the friend of Mme. Necker was received at Paris in the same manner as that of George Deyverdun would be at Lausanne. I know nothing more flattering than this favourable reception from a refined and enlightened public. But is not this favour, so pleasant to a visitor, a little dangerous to a settled inhabitant, who is exposed to the danger of seeing his laurels fade, either by the fault or the inconstancy of his judges? No; one is always sustained, if not exactly, yet nearly at the same point of elevation. Under the shelter of three thick quarto volumes in a foreign language (which is no small advantage), I shall always preserve a literary reputation, and that reputation will enhance social qualifications, if they find the historian without whims, affectation, or overbearing pretensions. I shall, then, be much pleased and well satisfied with your company; and I could have said in two words all that I have been prating about through two pages; but, then, there is so much pleasure in chatting with a friend; for, at last, I do possess at Lausanne a real friend; and ordinary acquaintances will, without much difficulty, replace all that is called connexion, and even friendship in this vast desert of London. But while I am writing, I can see on every side a crowd of objects, the loss of which would be rather more difficult to repair. You know what my library was, but I may reply what you say of your house," it is very different now;" formed by

a little and little, but with a great deal of care and expense, it may now be called a very good private collection. Not contented with filling in double ranks the best apartment, which had been assigned to it, it has crept out into the front chamber (your former bedroom) into mine, into all the recesses of the house in Bentinckstreet, and even into a little cottage, that I have treated myself with, at Hampton Court.

"J'ai mille courtisans rangés autour de moi;

Ma retraite est ma Louvre, et j'y commande en roi."*

The principal part of it consists of the best company, Greek, Latin, Italian, French, and English; and those authors which are least valued by a man of taste, ecclesiastics, Byzantines, and Orientals, are the most necessary to the historian of The Decline and Fall, &c. You cannot but perceive the disagreeableness of leaving behind, and the impossibility of transporting five or six thousand volumes; more especially as Heaven has not thought proper to make Switzerland a maritime country. Nevertheless, my zeal for the success of our mutual projects makes me imagine that these obstacles may be surmounted, and that I can either ameliorate or sustain these grievous privations. The good classic authors, that library of the nations, are to be met with in every country. Lausanne is not totally destitute of books or of politeness, and I have it my mind that perhaps one might get, for a certain length of time, the library of some old gentleman, or of some minor, which the family might not perhaps wish entirely to get rid of. As for my working tools, we will begin by examining the state of our respective wealth; after which, we must make a little calculation of the value, weight, and rarity of each work, to judge what it will be necessary to take from London, and what may be more conveniently purchased in Switzerland. In regard to this expense, it ought to be looked upon as the first outlays on a manufacture, transplanted into a foreign country, and from which a reasonable profit may in the end be expected. Unfortunately, your public library, even with the addition of that of M. de Bochat, is pitiable enough; but those of Berne and Basle are very extensive; and I reckon with so much confidence on Helvetian kindness, as to hope that, by making use of recommendations and cautions, I may be permitted to take from them such books as I may indispensably want. You are very well situated to obtain information and determine on the most suitable measures, but you see how I turn myself on every side to encounter the most formidable difficulties.

Let us now come to less exalted subjects, which are, however, very important to the existence and well-being of the animal nature; lodging, servants, and board. For my own private use, a bed-room, with a large study, and an antechamber, will be sufficient for all my wants; but, if you can allow it, I shall with pleasure walk through the immensity of your eleven apartments, which are accommodated, no doubt, to the different times of the day and year. The particular

"A thousand courtiers ranged around me stand;

And in my room I royally command."

of servants involves a considerable difficulty, on which I wish to consult you. You know and esteem Caplin, my valet de chambre, maître d'hôtel, &c., who was brought up in our house, and there expected to end his days. Since your departure, his talents and virtues have been increasingly developed, and I consider him much less on the footing of a servant than on that of a friend. Unfortunately, he only understands English, and will never learn a foreign language. He accompanied me, six years ago, in my journey to Paris, but he brought back to England all the ignorance and all the prejudices of a good patriot. At Lausanne he would cost me a good deal to keep, and, excepting personal service, would be of very little use. Nevertheless I would willingly bear that expense, were I not very sure that, if his attachment induced him to follow me, he would be tired to death in a country where every thing was strange and disagreeable to him. I must, therefore, part with a man whose zeal and fidelity I know, break off suddenly little habits that are connected with my daily and hourly comfort, and resolve to replace him by a new face, perhaps a bad character, or at any rate some Swiss adventurer picked up on the London pavements. You recollect one George, a Swiss, who formerly made, along with me, the tour through France and Italy? I think he is married and settled at Lausanne; if he is still alive, you may ask him to come here, to take me back into Switzerland; the company of a good former servant will not fail to alleviate the loss, and he may perhaps remain with me till we have chosen a young man of the country, skilful, modest, and well educated, to whom I could give an advantageous situation. Other servants, as housekeeper, footman, cook, &c. are engaged and changed without difficulty. An article much more important is our board; for, after all, we are not hermits enough to be contented with the vegetables and fruits of your garden, however excellent they may be; but I have scarcely any thing to add to the kindness of your proposals, which gave me much more pleasure than surprise. Were I quite destitute, instead of being ashamed of the favours of friendship, I would accept your offers in the same simple spirit in which they are made. But we are not yet reduced to that extremity, and you understand very well that the wreck of an English fortune would form a decent property in the Pays de Vaud; and, to tell you something more precise on this point, I could very well and without inconvenience spend five or six hundred louis.* You are acquainted with the sum total as well as with the details of household expense; suppose now a little table for two Epicurean philosophers, four, five, or six servants, friends pretty often, feasts pretty rarely, much enjoyment and little luxury, how much do you suppose will be the gross expense for a month and for a year? The division you have already made appears to me to be very reasonable; you shall lodge me and I will board you. To your calculation I shall add my personal expenditure, clothes, spending money, servants' wages, &c., and I shall then see in a very clear manner the total expense of my little establishment.

* The louis was of about the value of £1 sterling.

After having gone through so many minute details, the beloved reader doubtless imagines that my resolution of settling myself for some time on the banks of Lake Leman is perfectly fixed. Alas! nothing is farther from the truth; but I have yielded myself up to the delightful charm of reckoning, sounding, and feeling that happiness, all whose value I can perceive, which is within my reach, and which I shall perhaps yet have the stupidity to renounce. You are right in thinking, but you do not know how right you are, that my political career has been strewn rather with thorns than with roses. Well! what object or individual could repay me for the annoyances of business, and the shame of dependence? Fame? As a man of letters I already enjoy it, as an orator I shall never have it, and private soldiers' names are forgotten in victories as well as in defeats. Duty? In these blind combats, where the chiefs seek only for their own private emolument, the odds are that the subalterns will always do more harm than good. Personal attachment? Ministers are very seldom worthy of it; up to the present time Lord North has had no cause to complain of me, and if I retire from parliament, he will very easily get another silent member in my place, who will be quite as faithful as his old servant. I am perfectly convinced, both by reason and feeling, that no course will suit me so well as to live with you or near you at Lausanne; and if I obtain the place I am seeking for (commissioner of excise or customs), there will be five long mornings every week, that will remind me of the folly of my choice. You are, indeed, deceived as to the stability of these employments; they are almost the only ones that never experience ministerial revolutions. However, if this place should offer itself soon, I should not have the good sense and courage to refuse it. What other counsellors would I take but my heart and my reason? There are some most powerful and always listened to; prudence, false shame, all my friends, or professed friends, will cry out that I am a lost and ruined man, a fool who leaves his protectors, a misanthrope who exiles himself to the end of the world; and then such exaggerations about all that would be done in his favour, so surely, so promptly, so liberally! Lord Sheffield will vote to have me arrested and locked up; my two aunts and my motherin-law will deplore my leaving them for ever, &c. "What a trouble it is to take my night-cap," says the sage Fontenelle, “when the only point is, whether to go to bed;" and how many night-caps must not I take, and take them all alone? for every body, friends, relations, and servants, will oppose my flight. Truly, these are obstacles but little to be dreaded, and while I describe them I find them growing fainter in my mind. Thanks to this long gossip, you know my mind as well as I do myself; that is to say, badly enough; but this uncertainty, which is very pleasant to me, will be very annoying Your answer to this will not reach me till about the end of July, and in a week after, I promise a plain and decisive reply, either "I come," or "I stop." If I come, it will be about the middle of September; I shall eat the grapes off your vine on the

to you.