In 1767 also he joined with M. Deyverdun in starting a literary journal under the title of Mémoires Littéraires de la Grande Bretagne. But its circulation was limited, and only the second volume had appeared (1768) when Deyverdun went abroad. The materials already collected for a third volume were suppressed. It is interesting, however, to know that in the first volume is a review by Gibbon of Lord Lyttelton's History of Henry II., and that the second volume contains a contribution by Hume on Walpole's Historic Doubts.

The next appearance of the historian made a deeper impression. it was the first distinct print of the lion's foot. "Ex ungue leonem" might have been justly said, for he attacked, and attacked successfully, the redoubtable Warburton. Of the many paradoxes in the Divine Legation, few are more extravagant than the theory that Virgil, in the sixth book of his Eneid, intended to allegorize, in the visit of his hero and the Sibyl to the shades, the initiation of Eneas, as a lawgiver, into the Eleusinian mysteries. This theory Gibbon completely exploded in his Critical Observations (1770),-no very difficult task, indeed, but achieved in a style, and with a profusion of learning, which called forth the warmest commendations both at home and abroad. Warburton never replied; and few will believe that he would not, if he had not thought silence more discreet. Gibbon, however, regrets that the style of his pamphlet was too acrimonious; and this regret, considering his antagonist's slight claims to forbearance, is creditable to him. "I cannot forgive myself the contemptuous treatment of a man who, with all his faults, was entitled to my esteem; and I can less forgive, in a personal attack, the cowardly concealment of my name and character."

Soon after his "release from the fruitless task of the Swiss revolution" in 1768, he had gradually advanced from the wish to the hope, from the hope to the design, from the design to the execution of his great historical work. His preparations were indeed vast. The classics, " as low as Tacitus, Pliny the Younger, and Juvenal," had been long familiar. He now "plunged into the ocean of the Augustan history," and "with pen almost always in hand," pored over all the original records, Greek and Latin, between Trajan and the last of the Western Casars. "The subsidiary rays of medals and inscriptions, of geography and chronology, were thrown on their proper objects; and I applied the collections of Tillemont, whose inimitable accuracy almost assumes the character of genius, to fix and arrange within my reach the loose and scattered atoms of historical information." The Christian apologists and their pagan assailants; the Theodosian Code, with Godefroy's commentary; the Annals and Antiquities of Muratori, collated with "the parallel or transverse lines" of Sigonius and Maffei, Pagi and Baronius, were all critically studied. Still following the wise maxim which he had adopted as a student, "multum legere potius quam multa," he reviewed again and again the immortal works of the French and English, the Latin and Italian classics. He deepened and extended his acquaintance with Greek, particularly with his favourite authors Homer and Xenophon; and, to crown all, he succeeded in achieving the third perusal of Blackstone's Commentaries.

The course of his study was for some time seriously interrupted by his father's illness and death in 1770, and by the many distractions connected with the transference of his residence from Buriton to London. It was not, indeed, until October 1772 that he found himself at last independent, and fairly settled in his house and library, with full leisure and opportunity to set about the composition of the first volume of his history. Even then it appears from his own confession that he long brooded over the chaos of

the commencement, he says, "all was dark and doubtful"; the limits, divisions, even the title of his work were undetermined; the first chapter was composed three times, and the second and third twice, before he was satisfied with his efforts. This prolonged meditation on his design and its execution was ultimately well repaid by the result: so methodical did his ideas become, and so readily did his materials shape themselves, that, with the above exceptions, the original MS. of the entire six quartos was sent uncopied to the printers. He also says that not a sheet had been seen by any other eyes than those of author and printer, a statement indeed which must be taken with a small deduction; or rather we must suppose that a few chapters had been submitted, if not to the eyes," to the ears" of others; for he elsewhere tells us that he was soon disgusted with the modest practice of reading the manuscript to his friends." Such, however, were his preliminary difficulties that he confesses he was often "tempted to cast away the labour of seven years"; and it was not until February 1776 that the first volume was published. The success was instant, and, for a quarto, probably unprecedented. The entire impression was exhausted in a few days; a second and a third edition were scarcely adequate to the demand. The author might almost have said, as Lord Byron after the publication of Childe Harold, that "he awoke one morning and found himself famous." In addition to public applause, he was gratif ed by the more select praises of the highest living authorities in that branch of literature: "the candour of Dr Robertson embraced his disciple;" Hume's letter of congratulation "overpaid the labour of ten years." The latter, however, with his usual sagacity, anticipated the objections which he saw could be urged against the famous fifteenth and sixteenth chapters. "I think you have observed a very prudent temperament; but it was impossible to treat the subject so as not to give grounds of suspicion against you. and you may expect that a clamour will arise."

The "clamour" thus predicted was not slow to make itself heard. Within two years the famous chapters had elicited what might almost be called a library of controversy. The only attack, however, to which Gibbon deigned to make any reply was that of Davies, who had impugned his accuracy or good faith. His Vindication appeared in February, 1779; and, as Milman remarks, "this single discharge from the ponderous artillery of learning and sarcasm laid prostrate the whole disorderly squadron" of his rash and feeble assailants.1

1 For a very full list of publications in answer to Gibbon's attack on Christianity reference may be made to the Bibliographer's Manual, pp. 885-6 (1858). Of these the earliest were Watson's Apology (1776), Salisbury's Strictures (1776), and Chelsum's (anonymous) Remarks (1776). In 1778 the Few Remarks by a Gentleman (Francis Eyre), the Reply of Loftus, the Letters of Apthorpe, and the Examination of Davies appeared. Gibbon's Vindication (1779) called forth a Reply by Davies (1779), and A Short Appeal to the Public by Francis Eyre (1779). Laughton's polemical treatise was published in 1780, and those of Milner and Taylor in 1781. Chelsum returned to the attack in 1785 (A Reply to Mr Gibbon's Vindication), and Sir David Dalrymple (An Inquiry into the Secondary Causes, &c.) made his first appearance in the controversy in 1786. Travis's Letters on 1 John v. 7 are dated 1784; and Spedalieri's Confutazione dell' Esame del Cristianismo fatto da Gibbon was published at Rome (2 vols. 4to) in the same year. It is impossible not to concur in almost every point with Gibbon's own estimate of his numerous assailants. Their crude productions, for the most part, were conspicuous rather for insolence and abusiveness than for logic or learning. Those of Bishop Watson and Lord Hailes were the best, but simply because they contented themselves with a dispassionate exposition of the general argument in favour of Christianity. The most foolish and discreditable was certainly that of Davies; his unworthy attempt to depreciate the great historian's learning, and his captious, cavilling, acrimonious charges of petty inaccuracies and discreditable falsification gave the object of his attack an easy triumph.

tion. The fourth volume, partly written in 1782, was completed in June 1781; the preparation of the fifth volume occupied less than two years; while the sixth and last, begun 18th May, 1786, was finished in thirteen months. The feelings with which he brought his labours to a close must be described in his own inimitable words: "It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June 1787, between the hours of cleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page in a summer house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau or covered walk of acacias, which command a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind by the idea that I had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that whatsoever might be the future date of my History, the life of the historian must be short and pre

carious."

Taking the manuscript with him, Gibbon, after an absence of four years, once more visited London in 1787; | and the 51st anniversary of the author's birthday (27th April 1788) witnessed the publication of the last three volumes of The Decline and Fall. They met with a quick and easy sale, were very extensively read, and very liberally and deservedly praised for the unflagging industry and vigour they displayed, though just exception, if only on the score of good taste, was taken to the scoffing tone he continued to maintain in all passages where the Christian religion was specially concerned, and much fault was found with the indecency of some of his notes.1

He returned to Switzerland in July 1788, cherishing vague schemes of fresh literary activity; but genuine sorrow caused by the death of his friend Deyverdun interfered with steady work, nor was it easy for him to fix on a new subject which should be at once congenial and proportioned to his powers; while the premonitory mutterings of the great thunderstorm of the French Revolution, which reverberated in hollow echoes even through the quiet valleys of Switzerland, further troubled his repose. For some months he found amusement in the preparation of the delightful Memoirs (1789) from which most of our knowledge of his personal history is derived; but his letters to friends in England, written between 1788 and 1793 occasionally betray a slight but unmistakable tone of ennui. In April 1793 he unexpectedly received tidings of the death of Lady Sheffield; and the motive of friendship thus supplied combined with the pressure of public events to urge him homewards. He arrived in England on the following June, and spent the summer at Sheffield Place, where his presence was even more highly prized than it had ever before been. Returning to London early in November, he found it necessary to consult his physicians for a symptom which, neglected since 1761, had gradually become complicated with hydrocele, and was now imperatively demanding surgical aid; but the painful operations which had to be performed did not interfere with his customary cheerfulness, nor did they prevent him from paying a Christmas visit to Sheffield Place. Here, however, fever made its appearance; and a removal to London (January 6, 1794) was considered imperative. Another operation brought him some relief; but a relapse occurred

during the night of the 15th, and on the following day he peacefully breathed his last. His remains were laid in the burial place of the Sheffield family, Fletching, Sussex, where an epitaph by Dr Parr describes his character and work in the language at once of elegance, of moderation, and of truth. The personal appearance of Gibbon as a lad of sixteen is brought before us somewhat dimly in M. Pavilliard's de scription of the "thin little figure, with a large head, disputing and arguing, with the greatest ability, all the best arguments that had ever been used in favour of popery." What he afterwards became has been made more vividly familiar by the clever silhouette prefixed to the Miscel laneous Works (Gibbon himself, at least, we know, did not regard it as a caricature), and by Sir Joshua Reynolds's portrait so often engraved. It is hardly fair perhaps to add a reference to Suard's highly-coloured description of the short Silenus-like figure, not more than 56 inches in height, the slim legs, the large turned-in feet, the shrill piercing voice; but almost every one will remember, from Croker's Boswell, Colman's account of the great historian "tapping his snuff-box, smirking and smiling, and rounding his periods" from that mellifluous mouth. It has already been seen that Gibbon's early ailments all left him on the approach, of manhood; thenceforward, “till admonished by the gout," he could truly boast of an immunity well-nigh perfect from every bodily complaint; an exceptionally vigorous brain, and a stomach "almost too good," united to bestow upon him a vast capacity alike for work and for enjoyment. This capacity he never abused so as to burden his conscience or depress his spirits. "The madness of superfluous health I have never known." To illustrate the intensity of the pleasure he found alike in the solitude of his study and in the relaxations of genial social intercourse, almost any page taken at random, either from the Life or from the Letters, would suffice; and many incidental touches show that he was not a stranger to the delights of quiet contemplation of the beauties and grandeurs of nature. His manners, if formal, were refined; his conversation, when he felt himself at home, interesting and unaffected; and that he was capable alike of feeling and inspiring a very constant friendship there are many witnesses to show. That his temperament at the same time was frigid and comparatively passionless cannot be denied; but neither ought this to be imputed to him as a fault; hostile criticisms upon the grief for a father's death, that "was soothed by the conscious satisfaction that I had discharged all the duties of filial piety," seem somewhat out of place. His most ardent admirers, however, are constrained to admit that he was deficient in large-hearted benevolence; that he was destitute of any "enthusiasm of humanity"; and that so far as every sort of religious yearning or aspiration is concerned, his poverty was almost unique. Gibbon was such a man as Horace might have been, had the Roman Epicurean been fonder of hard intellectual work, and less prone than he was to the indulgence of emotion.

Of Gibbon's mental qualities it is interesting to read the estimate formed and recorded by himself on his twenty sixth birthday [May 8th, N.S., 1762]: "Wit I have none. My imagination is rather strong than pleasing. My memory both capacious and retentive. The shining qualities of my understanding are extensiveness and penetration; but I want both quickness and exactness." Twenty-six years afterwards, he wrote on the same subject in his Memoirs:-"The original soil has been highly improved by cultivation; but it may be questioned whether some flowers of fancy, some grateful errors, have not been eradicated with the weeds of prejudice." No student of The Decline and Fali will accuse its author of immodesty or vanity in these selfappreciations, but will rather be surprised that he should have so considerably underestimated both his endowments

is unable when Christianity comes to be discussed to conceal his heartfelt dislike. Comparing "superstition" with superstition," virtue with virtue, vice with vice, Gibbon had formed a deliberate preference for the religion and ethics of ancient Rome. Philosophical students of history, even though they may feel themselves unable to subscribe the Athanasian creed, may now be said to be almost unanimous, however, in finding that the phenomenon called Christianity did mean for mankind a higher conception of truth and a nobler conception of duty.

Upon the famous fifteenth and sixteenth chapters it is not necessary to dwell, because at this time of day no Christian apologist dreams of denying the substantial truth of any of the more important allegations of Gibbon. Christians may complain of the suppression of some circumstances which might influence the general result; and they must remonstrate against the unfair construction of their case. But they no longer refuse to hear any reasonable evidence tending to show that persecution was less severe than had once been believed; and they have slowly learned that they can afford to concede the validity of all the secondary causes assigned by Gibbon, and even of others still more discreditable. The fact is, as the historian himself has again and again admitted, that his account of the secondary causes which contributed to the progress and establishment of Christianity leaves the question as to the natural or supernatural origin of Christianity practically untouched; that question still continues to be agitated, but the battle is fought on a new field and with other weapons than those selected by Gibbon.

Of the original quarto edition of The Decline and Fall, vol. i. appeared, as has already been stated, in 1776, vols. ii. and iii. in 1781, and vols. iv -vi. (inscribed to Lord North) in 1788. In later editions vol. i. was considerably altered by the author; the others hardly at all. The number of modern reprints has been very considerable; but the most important and valuable English edition is that of Milman (1839 and 1845), still more recently enriched under the editorship of Dr W. Smith (8 vols. 8vo, 1854 and 1872). As a curiosity of literature Bowdler's edition, "adapted to the use of families and young persons" by the expurgation of "the indecent expressions and all allusions of an improper tendency" (5 vols. 8vo, 1825), may be specially noticed. The French translation of Le Clerc de Septchênes, continued by Démeunier; Boulard, and Cantwell (1788-1795), has been frequently reprinted in France. It seems to be certain that the portion usually attri buted to Septchênes was, in part at least, the work of his distinguished pupil, Louis XVI. A new edition of the complete translation, prefaced by a letter on Gibbon's life and character, from the pen of Suard, and annotated by Guizot, appeared in 1812 (and again in 1828). There are at least two German translations of The Decline and Fall, one by Wenck, Schreiter, and Beck (1805-1807), and a second by Sporschil (1862). The Italian translation (alluded to by Gibbon himself) was, along with Spedalieri's Confutazione, reprinted at Milan in 1823. Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, with Memoirs of his Life and Writings, composed by himself; illustrated from his letters, with occasional Notes and Narrative, published by Lord Sheffield in two volumes in 1796, has been often reprinted. The new edition in five volumes (1814) contained some previously unpublished matter, and in particular the fragment on the revolutions of Switzerland. A French translation of the Miscellaneous Works by Marigné appeared at Paris in 1798. There is also a German translation (Leipsic, 1801). It may be added that a special translation of the chapter on Roman Law (Gibbon's historische Uebersicht des Römischen Rechts) was published by Hugo at Göttingen in 1839, and has frequently been used as a text-book in

German universities.

(H. RO.-J. S. BL.)

GIBBONS, GRINLING (1648-1721), a celebrated English wood-carver, was born in 1648, according to some authorities of Dutch parents at Rotterdam, and according to others of English parents at London. By the former he is said to have come to London after the great fire in 1666. He early displayed great cleverness and ingenuity in his art, on the strength of which he was recommended by Evelyn to Charles II., who employed him in the execution both of statuary and of ornamental carving in wood. In statuary one of his principal works is a life-size bronze statue in the court of Whitehall, representing James II. in the dress

of a Roman emperor, and he also designed the base of the statue of Charles I. at Charing Cross. It is, however, chiefly as an engraver in wood that he has acquired a reputation. He was employed to execute the ornamental carving for the chapel at Windsor, the foliage and festoons in the choir of St Paul's, the baptismal fonts in St James's, and an immense quantity of ornamental work at Burleigh, Chatsworth, and other aristocratic mansions. The finest of all his productions in this style is believed to be the ceiling which he devised for a room at Petworth. His subjects are chiefly birds, flowers, foliage, fruit, and lace, and inany of his works, for delicacy and elaboration of details, and truthfulness of imitation, have never been surpassed. He, however, sometimes wasted his ingenuity on trifling subjects: many of his flowers used to move on their stems like their natural prototypes when shaken by a breeze. In 1714 Gibbons was appointed master carver in wood to George I. | He died at London August 3, 1721.

GIBBONS, ORLANDO (1583-1625), like Johann Sebastian Bach, was the most illustrious of a family of musicians all more or less able. We know of at least three generations of musical Gibbons, for Orlando's father, William Gibbons, having been one of the waits of Cambridge, may be assumed to have acquired some proficiency in the art. His three sons and at least one of his grandsons inherited and further developed his talent. The eldest, Edward, was made bachelor of music at Cambridge, and successively held important musical appointments at the cathedrals of Bristol and Exeter; Ellis, the second son, was organist of Salisbury Cathedral, and is the composer of two madrigals in the collection known as the The Triumphs of Oriana. Orlando Gibbons, the youngest and by far the most celebrated of the brothers, was born at Cambridge in 1583. Where and under whom he studied is not known, but in his twenty-first year he was sufficiently advanced and celebrated to receive the important post of organist of the Chapel Royal. His first published composition "Fantasies in three parts, composed for viols," appeared in 1610. It seems to have been the first piece of music printed in England from engraved plates, or "6 cut in copper, the like not heretofore extant." In 1622 he was created doctor of music by the university of Oxford. For this occasion he composed an anthem for eight parts, O clap your Hands, still extant. In the following year he became organist of Westminster Abbey. Orlando Gibbons died before the beginning of the civil war, or it may be supposed that, like his eldest brother, he would have been a staunch royalist. In a different sense, however, he died in the cause of his master; for having been summoned to Canterbury to produce a composition written in celebration of Charles's marriage, he there fell a victim to small-pox on June 5, 1625. Of his life very little is known, but that little is well summed up in the article contributed by Mr W. H. Husk to. Dr Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians, where a complete list of his compositions is also given. His portrait may be found in Hawkins's well-known History. The works of Gibbons may be divided into secular and sacred compositions, the latter being by far the most important portion. His vocal pieces, madrigals, motets, canons, songs, &c., are admirable specimens of part-writing, and prove him to have been a perfect master of polyphonous treatment. Many of them are for five voices, a very common number in those days; but pieces for four and for six voices also are by no means rare. To the first-named class belong a Te Deum in D minor, two sets of Preces and other compositions for church service, also most of the madrigals. We have also some specimens of his instrumental music, such as the six pieces for the virginals published in Parthenia, a collection of instrumental music produced by Gibbons in conjunction with Dr Bull and Byrd.