Mr. Gibbon, on his return, found Lausanne very different from the place he had left it. His friend Deyverdun, who had long lived under the same roof with him, was in a state of decay; and, after a year of anxious attendance, he had the affliction of losing him. The French revolution, an event which he viewed from the first with deep alarm and reprobation, cruelly interrupted the tranquillity of his retreat. The gay and easy society, in which he delighted, was transformed into an assemblage of noisy politicians ; the crowds of emigrants who sought refuge at Lausanne did not enliven that residence; and at length the flames of war began to rage in his immediate vicinity. During this period, therefore, he did not proceed with any great plan, but merely amused himself with a variety of literary pursuits. He composed, however, those memoirs of himself, which were published after his death; and he formed the plan of a very extensive work, combining history and biography. He proposed to write the lives of the distinguished military and political characters in Britain, from the reign of Henry VIII, to the present age. This, he conceived, would be rather an amusement than a labour; the materials were accessible, the subject agreeable, and so attractive to English readers, that it could scarcely fail of success. It was doubtless in part with a view to this undertaking, that he determined to spend a year in England, and his visit was delayed only by the difficulties of the journey through revolutionized France. A circumstance, however, occurred, which induced him to set these at defiance. Lord Sheffield, with whom he had been long united by ties of the most intimate friendship, had the misfortune of losing his lady, to whom he was tenderly attached. Gibbon set out, without a 'moment's delay, to console his friend under this affliction. He accomplished his journey, through Germany and the Netherlands, with greater ease than he had expected; and, landing in England in June 1793,

proceeded immediately to Lord Sheffield's house. He, himself, however, was now in a situation deeply afflict ing to his friends. A dropsy, which had long lurked in his constitution, assumed the most alarming symptoms. Repeated tappings produced only a temporary relief; and at length his constitution became no longer able to struggle against the violence of the disThere was nothing particularly memorable in his last moments; but as it must always be interesting to view the behaviour of so great a man, in circumstances so trying, we shall present our readers with Lord Sheffield's narrative.

case.

"After I left him, on Tuesday afternoon (Jan. 14, 1794) he saw some company, Lady Lucan and Lady Spencer, and thought himself well enough at night to omit the opium draught, which he had been used to take for some time. He slept very indifferently: before nine the next morning he rose, but could not eat his breakfast. However, he appeared tolerably well, yet complained at times of a pain in his stomach. At one o'clock he received a visit of an hour from Madame de Sylva, and at three, his friend Mr. Crauford, of Auchinames (whom he always mentioned with particular regard), called, and staid with him till past five o'clock. They talked, as usual, on various subjects; and twenty hours before his death, Mr. Gibbon happened to fall into a conversation not uncommon with him, on the probable duration of his life. He said, that he thought himself a good life for ten, twelve, or perhaps twenty years. About six, he ate the wing of a chicken, and drank three glasses of Madeira. After dinner he became very uneasy and impatient; complained a good deal, and appeared so weak, that his servant was alarmed. Mr. Gibbon had sent to his friend and relation, Mr. Robert Darell, whose house was not far distant, desiring to see him, and adding, that he had something particular to say. But, unfortunately, this desired interview never took place}

*During the evening he complained much of his stomach, and of a disposition to vomit. Soon after nine, he took his opium draught, and went to bed. About ten he complained of much pain, and desired that warm napkins might be applied to his stomach. He almost incessantly expressed a sense of pain till about four o'clock in the morning, when he said he found his stomach much easier. About seven, the servant asked, whether he should send for Mr. Farquhar? He answered, No; that he was as well as he had been the day before. About half past eight, he got out of bed, and said that he was "plus adroit" than he had been for three months past, and got into bed again, without assistance, better than usual. About nine, he said that he would rise. The servant, however, persuaded him to remain in bed till Mr. Farquhar, who was expected at eleven, should come. Till about that hour he spoke with great facility. Mr. Farqubar came at the time appointed, and he was then visibly dying. When the valet de chambre returned, after attending M. Fuquhar out of the room, Mr. Gibbon said, Pourquoi est ce que vous me quittez ? This was about half past eleven. A twelve he drank some brandy and water from a tea-pot, and desired his favourite servent to stay with him. These were the last words he pronounced articulately. To the last he preserved his senses; and when he could no longer speak, his servant having asked a question, he made a sign, to shew that he understood him. He was quite tranquil, and did not stir; his eyes half shut. About a quarter before one he ceased to breathe. The valet de chambre observed, that Mr. Gibbon did not at any time shew the least sign of alarm, or apprehension of death; and it does not appear that he ever thought himself in danger, unless his desire to speak to Mr. Darell may be considered in that light."

Our readers will probably by this time have formed a pretty correct estimate of the character of Mr. Gib

bon. The desire of knowledge, and the ambition of literary fame, formed evidently his ruling passions; and an indefatigable application enabled him to accomplish labours, from which most men would have shrunk. An easy and philosophic good humour seems after this to have formed the most prominent feature in his character. His temper was not peculiarly marked with warmth or enthusiasm; yet he performed with fidelity all the relative and social duties. If we cannot avoid lamenting the errors of his religious opinions, and the zeal with which he propagated them, some apology may be found in the neglect of his education, and the character of the literary societies into which he was early introduced.

In regard to the literary talents of Mr. Gibbon, after having successively exhibited the sentiments of the most illustrious of his contemporaries, it can scarcely be necessary to interpose our own. The public voice has long since enrolled him among the standard writers in the English language; nor is any library accounted complete, till it has been enriched with the "History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire."

PREFACE.

It is not my intention to detain the reader by expatiating on the variety, or the importance of the subject, which I have undertaken to treat; since the merit of the choice would serve to render the weakness of the execution still more apparent, and still less excusable. But as I have presumed to lay before the public a first volume only* of the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, it will perhaps be expected that I should explain, in a few words, the nature and limits of my general plan.

The memorable series of revolutions, which, in the course of about thirteen centuries, gradually undermined, and at length destroyed, the solid fabric of human greatness, may, with some propriety, be divided into the three following periods;

* The first volume of the quarto, which is now contained in the two first volumes of the octavo edition.