, after a long oblivion, were first published by Peter Pithou,
from a corrupt manuscript. The labours of fifty editors confess the
defects of the copy, as well as the value of the original; and the
school-boy may have been whipped for misapprehending a passage, which
Bentley could not restore, and which Burman could not explain.

My studies were too frequently interrupted by sickness; and after a real
or nominal residence at Kingston School of near two years, I was finally
recalled (Dec., 1747) by my mother's death, in her thirty-eighth year.
I was too young to feel the importance of my loss; and the image of
her person and conversation is faintly imprinted in my memory. The
affectionate heart of my aunt, Catherine Porten, bewailed a sister and a
friend; but my poor father was inconsolable, and the transport of grief
seemed to threaten his life or his reason. I can never forget the scene
of our first interview, some weeks after the fatal event; the awful
silence, the room hung with black, the mid-day tapers, his sighs
and tears; his praises of my mother, a saint in heaven; his solemn
adjuration that I would cherish her memory and imitate her virtues; and
the fervor with which he kissed and blessed me as the sole surviving
pledge of their loves. The storm of passion insensibly subsided into
calmer melancholy. At a convivial meeting of his friends, Mr. Gibbon
might affect or enjoy a gleam of cheerfulness; but his plan of happiness
was for ever destroyed: and after the loss of his companion he was
left alone in a world, of which the business and pleasures were to him
irksome or insipid. After some unsuccessful trials he renounced the
tumult of London and the hospitality of Putney, and buried himself
in the rural or rather rustic solitude of Beriton; from which, during
several years, he seldom emerged.

As far back as I can remember, the house, near Putney-bridge and
churchyard, of my maternal grandfather appears in the light of my proper
and native home. It was there that I was allowed to spend the greatest
part of my time, in sickness or in health, during my school vacations
and my parents' residence in London, and finally after my mother's
death. Three months after that event, in the spring of 1748, the
commercial ruin of her father, Mr. James Porten, was accomplished and
declared. He suddenly absconded: but as his effects were not sold, nor
the house evacuated, till the Christmas following, I enjoyed during the
whole y