After the singular pleasure of reading you, Sir, the next satisfaction is to declare my admiration.  I have read great part of your volume, and cannot decide to which of its various merits I give the preference, though I have no doubt of assigning any partiality to one virtue of the author, which, seldom as I meet with it, always strikes me superiorly.  Its quality will naturally prevent your guessing which I mean.  It is your amiable modesty.  How can you know so much, judge so well, possess your subject, and your knowledge, and your power of judicious reflection so thoroughly, and yet command yourself and betray no dictatorial arrogance of decision?  How unlike very ancient and very modern authors!  You have, unexpectedly, given the world a classic history.  The fame it must acquire will tend every day to acquit this panegyric of flattery.(245) The impressions it has made on me are very numerous.  The strongest is the thirst of being better acquainted with you—­but I reflect that I have been a trifling author, and am in no light profound enough to deserve your intimacy, except by confessing your superiority so frankly, that I assure you honestly, I already feel no envy, though I did for a moment.  The best proof I can give you of my sincerity, is to exhort you, warmly and earnestly, to go on with your noble work—­the strongest, though a presumptuous mark of my friendship, is to warn you never to let your charming modesty be corrupted by the acclamations your talents will receive.  The native qualities of the man should never be sacrificed to those of the author, however shining.  I take this liberty as an older man, which reminds me how little I dare promise myself that I shall see your work completed!  But I love posterity enough to contribute, if I can, to give them pleasure through you.

I am too weak to say more, though I could talk for hours on your history.  But one feeling I cannot suppress, though it is a sensation of vanity.  I think, nay, I am sure I perceive, that your sentiments on government agree with my own.  It is the only point on which I suspect myself of any partiality in my admiration.  It is a reflection of a far inferior vanity that pleases me in your speaking with so much distinction of that, alas! wonderful period, in which the world saw five good monarchs succeed each other.(246) I have often thought of treating that Elysian era.  Happily it has fallen into better hands!

I have been able to rise to-day, for the first time, and flatter myself that if I have no relapse, you will in two or three days more give’ me leave, Sir, to ask the honour of seeing you.  In the mean time,,be just; and do not suspect me of flattering you.  You will always hear that I say the same of you to every body.  I am, with the greatest regard, Sir, etc.

(244) now first collected.

(245) “I am at a loss,” says Gibbon, in his Memoirs, “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."-E.