I now received, however, a letter very unexpectedly by way of Alexandria, which, if it did not overturn, at least shook these resolutions. The Comte de Buffon Mons. Guys of Marseilles, and several others well known in the literary world, had ventured to state to the minister, and through him to the king of France, Louis XV. how very much it was to be lamented, that after a man had been found who was likely to succeed in removing that opprobrium of travellers and geographers, by discovering the sources of the Nile, one most unlucky accident, at a most unlucky time, should frustrate the most promising endeavours. That prince, distinguished for every good quality of the heart, for benevolence, beneficence, and a desire of promoting and protecting learning, ordered a moveable quadrant of his own military academy at Marseilles, as the nearest and most convenient port of embarkation, to be taken down and sent to me at Alexandria.
With this I received a letter from Mr Russel, which informed me that astronomers had begun to cool in the sanguine expectations of discovering the precise quantity of the sun’s parallax by observation of the transit of Venus, from some apprehension that errors of the observers would probably be more than the quantity of the equation sought, and that they now ardently wished for a journey into Abyssinia, rather than an attempt to settle a nicety for which the learned had now begun to think the accuracy of our instruments was not sufficient. A letter from my correspondent at Alexandria also acquainted me, that the quadrant, and all other instruments, were in that city.
What followed is the voyage itself, the subject of the present publication. I am happy, by communicating every previous circumstance that occurred to me, to have done all in my power to remove the greatest part of the reasonable doubts and difficulties which might have perplexed the reader’s mind, or biassed his judgment in the perusal of the narrative of the journey, and in this I hope I have succeeded.
I have now one remaining part of my promise to fulfil, to account for the delay in the publication. It will not be thought surprising to any that shall reflect on the distant, dreary, and desert ways by which all letters were necessarily to pass, or the civil wars then raging in Abyssinia, the robberies and violences inseparable from a total dissolution of government, such as happened in my time, that no accounts for many years, one excepted, ever arrived in Europe. One letter, accompanied by a bill for a sum borrowed from a Greek at Gondar, found its way to Cairo; all the rest had miscarried: my friends at home gave me up for dead; and, as my death must have happened in circumstances difficult to have been proved, my property became as it were an hereditas jacens, without an owner, abandoned in common to those whose original title extended no further than temporary possession.
A number of law-suits were the inevitable consequence of this upon my return. One carried on with a very expensive obstinacy for the space of ten years, by a very opulent and active company, was determined finally in the House of Peers, in the compass of a very few hours, by the well-known sagacity and penetration of a noble Lord, who, happily for the subjects of both countries, holds the first office in the law; and so judicious was the sentence, that harmony, mutual confidence, and good neighbourhood has ever since been the consequence of that determination.
Other suits still remained, which unfortunately were not arrived to the degree of maturity to be so cut off; they are yet depending; patience and attention, it is hoped, may bring them to an issue at some future time. No imputation of rashness can possibly fall upon the decree, since the action has depended above thirty years.
To these disagreeable avocations, which took up much time, were added others still more unfortunate. The relentless ague caught at Bengazi maintained its ground at times for a space of more than sixteen years, though every remedy had been used, but in vain; and, what was worst of all, a lingering distemper had seriously threatened the life of a most near relation, which, after nine years constant alarm, where every duty bound me to attention and attendance, conducted her at last, in very early life, to her grave[48].
The love of solitude is the constant follower of affliction; this again naturally turns an instructed mind to study. My friends unanimously assailed me in the part most accessible when the spirits are weak, which is vanity. They represented to me how ignoble it was, after all my dangers and difficulties were over, to be conquered by a misfortune incident to all men, the indulging of which was unreasonable in itself, fruitless in its consequences, and so unlike the expectation I had given my country, by the firmness and intrepidity of my former character and behaviour. Among these, the principal and most urgent was a gentleman well known to the literary world, in which he holds a rank nearly as distinguished as that to which his virtues entitle him in civil life; this was the Hon. Daines Barrington, whose friendship, valuable on every account, had this additional merit, that it had existed uninterrupted since the days we were at school. It is to this gentleman’s persuasions, assistance, protection, and friendship, that the world owes this publication, if indeed there is any merit in it; at least, they are certainly indebted to him for the opportunity of judging whether there is any merit in it or not.
No great time has passed since the work was in hand. The materials collected upon the spot were very full, and seldom deferred to be set down beyond the day wherein the events described happened, but oftner, when speeches and arguments were to be mentioned, they were noted the instant afterwards; for, contrary I believe to what is often the case, I can assure the reader these speeches and conversations are absolutely real, and not the fabrication of after-hours.
It will perhaps be said, this work hath faults; nay, perhaps, great ones too, and this I readily confess. But I must likewise beg leave to say, that I know no books of the kind that have not nearly as many, and as great, though perhaps not of the same kind with mine. To see distinctly and accurately, to describe plainly, dispassionately and truly, is all that ought to be expected from one in my situation, constantly surrounded with every sort of difficulty and danger.