The Autobiographies of Edward Gibbon, continued
From Memoir C, written about 1789, Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Edward Gibbon (as titled in the print edition, 'typos' and spelling as in the original)* E-text from Gutenberg.
on his work
No sooner was I settled in my house and library, than I undertook the composition of the first volume of my History. At the outset all was dark and doubtful; even the title of the work, the true aera of the Decline and Fall of the Empire, the limits of the introduction, the division of the chapters, and the order of the narrative; and I was often tempted to cast away the labour of seven years. The style of an author should be the image of his mind, but the choice and command of language is the fruit of exercise. Many experiments were made before I could hit the middle tone between a dull chronicle and a rhetorical declamation: three times did I compose the first chapter, and twice the second and third, before I was tolerably satisfied with their effect. In the remainder of the way I advanced with a more equal and easy pace; but the fifteenth and sixteenth chapters have been reduced by three successive revisals, from a large volume to their present size; and they might still be compressed, without any loss of facts or sentiments. An opposite fault may be imputed to the concise and superficial narrative of the first reigns from Commodus to Alexander; a fault of which I have never heard, except from Mr. Hume in his last journey to London. Such an oracle might have been consulted and obeyed with rational devotion; but I was soon disgusted with the modest practice of reading the manuscript to my friends. Of such friends some will praise from politeness, and some will criticise from vanity. The author himself is the best judge of his own performance; no one has so deeply meditated on the subject; no one is so sincerely interested in the event.
publishing the work
The volume of my History, which had been somewhat delayed by the novelty and tumult of a first session, was now ready for the press. After the perilous adventure had been declined by my friend Mr. Elmsly, I agreed, upon easy terms, with Mr. Thomas Cadell, a respectable bookseller, and Mr. William Strahan, an eminent printer; and they undertook the care and risk of the publication, which derived more credit from the name of the shop than from that of the author. The last revisal of the proofs was submitted to my vigilance; and many blemishes of style, which had been invisible in the manuscript, were discovered and corrected in the printed sheet. So moderate were our hopes, that the original impression had been stinted to five hundred, till the number was doubled by the prophetic taste of Mr. Strahan. During this awful interval I was neither elated by the ambition of fame, nor depressed by the apprehension of contempt. My diligence and accuracy were attested by my own conscience. History is the most popular species of writing, since it can adapt itself to the highest or the lowest capacity. I had chosen an illustrious subject. Rome is familiar to the school-boy and the statesman; and my narrative was deduced from the last period of classical reading. I had likewise flattered myself, that an age of light and liberty would receive, without scandal, an inquiry into the human causes of the progress and establishment of Christianity.
on the reception of the work
I am at a
loss how to describe the success of the work, without betraying the
vanity of the writer. The first impression was exhausted in a few
days; a second and third edition were scarcely adequate to the demand;
and the bookseller's property was twice invaded by the pirates of
Dublin. My book was on every table, and almost on every toilette; the
historian was crowned by the taste or fashion of the day; nor was the
general voice disturbed by the barking of any profane critic. The
favour of mankind is most freely bestowed on a new acquaintance of any
original merit; and the mutual surprise of the public and their
favourite is productive of those warm sensibilities, which at a second
meeting can no longer be rekindled. If I listened to the music of
praise, I was more seriously satisfied with the approbation of my
judges. The candour of Dr. Robertson embraced his disciple. A letter
from Mr. Hume overpaid the labour of ten years, but I have never
presumed to accept a place in the triumvirate of British historians.
That
curious and original letter will amuse the reader, and his gratitude
should shield my free communication from the reproach of vanity.
He then reproduced the letter; go to Gutenberg and type in as search: "Letter from David Hume".
* Corrected July 10. IBH
