359.
To his Stepmother.
Bentinck Street, Sept. 29, 1778.
Dear Madam,
I think I grow worse and worse. I am sensible that you are acquainted with my sentiments and my faults, and that you are disposed to believe that the stream of my friendship is deep and pure, though it flows silently, very silently indeed. Yet my conscience whispers in my ear that I ought not to abuse the confidence which you may with justice repose in me. My conscience, likewise, informs me that as I made Sarah Holroyd the security of my promise, she has a right to complain that she became in some measure the accomplice of my quill. She has, I daresay, given you a particular account of the way I spent the greatest part of the summer; how, in the absence of the Major, I was left Governor of the Castle and Director of the fair females who inhabited it, and how I behaved myself in the execution of that important office.
DISCOMFORTS OF BRIGHTON.
I went over to Brighthelmstone, but found not much encouragement to settle, the Company was not agreeable, few of my acquaintance except the Paynes and Beauclercs; more difficulty and more expence than I expected in settling myself with any degree of comfort, and great inconvenience in being so long absent and distant from my tools. Upon mature consideration I resolved to relinquish that plan and to retire for some time to my rural retirement in Bentinck Street: the neighbourhood is not very populous at present, nor am I much interrupted by visits or invitations; yet I find as much society as I want for relaxation; and motives enough to engage me to take more exercise of a morning than I should anywhere else; besides the occasional Holydays which I sometimes allow myself to various friends who dwell in villas adjacent to town. In the meantime I have the pleasure to see the sheets of my second volume insensibly acquire a respectable or at least a decent size; and though my progress gives me a clearer view of the difficulties of my undertaking, yet I find that gentle and steady diligence will in time carry me through it: and I still look forwards to the spring of 1780 with hope though not with confidence.
Before I left Sussex I visited, in company with the Major, Cox Heath Camp: where I was received as a Father of the Old Hampshire Militia, though few officers now remain in it, with whom I have any connection. Jolliffe was returned to his station of Ensign, with the Cave of General Keppel, who would not however see him or forgive his extravagant behaviour, which was much worse than anything you saw in the Papers. I am afraid you were malicious enough to rejoyce at his absurdity. While I was in the Camp, I felt my military ardour revive; but I soon recollected that, notwithstanding the pleasure of passing a part of the winter on the Down, my library is upon the whole as agreeable as a Tent, and Almack's as comfortable as a Suttling booth. What odd animals we are! I have deferred from post to post, I am afraid to think how long, a very easy and pleasing occupation, which has now made me pass a very agreeable half hour in conversing with the dearest and most valued of my friends; who will derive some pleasure from the conversation. I positively believe I shall reform.——
Before I conclude I must add three words on a subject which is not so entertaining. You know how little I love to talk about business, but I ought not to omit what you will probably hear from some other quarter. My tenant Winton had done some mischief to Buriton; he threatened to injure it much more deeply, and I was persuaded by my Council to get rid of him, which I have just accomplished. Till the farm is let again, which I hope will be soon, Hugonin has undertaken the temporary administration. I have lost considerably in taking leave of my old tenant, and fear my loss in engaging a new one will be still more considerable, and I can ill support these extraordinary demands. Yet I should consider that, if all external circumstances were as smooth and satisfactory as the temper of my own mind, my condition would be too fortunate.
I am, Dear Madam,
Most truly yours,
E. Gibbon.