attested only by a single sense-our sight; while the real presence itself is disproved by three of our senses, the sight, the touch, and the taste. The various articles of the Romish creed disappeared like a dream; and after a full conviction, on Christmas-day, 1754, I received the sacrament in the church of Lausanne. It was here that I suspended my religious inquiries, acquiescing, with implicit belief, in the tenets and mysteries which are adopted by the general consent of catholics and protestants."*

There is not perhaps a more striking phenomenon in the whole history of the human mind, than the reverence which has been paid to the literal interpretation of the declaration, “This is my body," an interpretation to which Luther himself remained in subjection. This is a prejudice, which has been handed down through many generations, and the rejection of it is artfully entangled with other consequences, at which the mind of the inquirer is apt to be alarmed. But that the disciples of Christ should have eaten, not his future spiritual and glorified body, but the real, natural body, of their Master, whilst he stood alive and well before them, holding his own body in his own hands, is one of those monstrous impositions, which he who can persuade or compel another to receive, makes him his slave for ever.

There can be little doubt, that the discussion which ended in delivering Mr. Gibbon from the bondage of the Romish system, left in his mind a latent and incurable scepticism on religious subjects, which he covered under the veil of a decent submission to the mysteries common to catholics and protestants, whilst he proceeded with all diligence to qualify himself for the literary eminence to which he aspired. "Every man," says he, "who rises above the common level, has received two educations; the first from his teachers, the other and most important from himself. My worthy tutor had the good sense and modesty to discern how far he could be useful; as soon as he felt that I advanced beyond his speed and measure, he wisely left me to my genius; and the hours of lesson were soon lost in the voluntary labours of the whole morning, and sometimes of the whole day."+ His studies were devoted to the French, the Latin, and the Greek languages, and his reading embraced the Latin classics under the divisions of historians, poets, orators, and philosophers, from the days of Sallust and Plautus, to the decline of the language and empire of Rome. From this course he passed to the Greek, but neglected mathematical studies, after he had acquired the first principles. "Nor," says he, "can I lament that I desisted before my mind was hardened by the habit of rigid demonstration, so destructive of the finer feelings of moral evidence, which must however determine the actions and opinions of our lives." Amongst his more various reading, he enumerates three particular books, which " may have remotely contributed to form the historian of the Roman empire." "1. From the Provincial Letters of Pascal, which almost every year I have perused with new pleasure, I learned to manage the weapon of grave and temperate irony, even on subjects of ecclesiastical solemnity. 2. The Life of Julian by the Abbé de la Bleterie first introduced me to the man, and to the times; and I should be glad to recover my first essay on the truth of the miracle which stopped the rebuilding of the temple at Jerusalem. 3. In Giannone's Civil History of Naples, I observed with a critical eye the progress and abuse of sacerdotal powers, and the revo

lutions of Italy in the darker ages."§ In these studies, with a tour through Switzerland, and a correspondence which he aspired to open with some of the chief literati of the continent, he passed happily and profitably the remaining period of his residence at Lausanne.

The enthusiasm of Mr. Gibbon's mind was not prone to be directed to the passion of love, but once in his life he suffered that entanglement also. The object of his affection was a Miss Curchod, the amiable daughter, by a French protestant lady, of the minister of Crassy, a village in the mountains that separate the Pays de Vaud from the county of Burgundy. "In the solitude of a sequestered village, he bestowed a liberal and even learned education on his only daughter. She surpassed his hopes, by her proficiency in the sciences and the languages.—I saw and loved. I found her learned without pedantry, lively in conversation, pure in sentiment, and elegant in manners; and the first sudden emotion was fortified by the habits and knowledge of a more familiar acquaintance." Mr. Gibbon was permitted to visit her several times at her father's house. He appears to have succeeded in making an impression upon her heart, and in the society of Lausanne, and the solitude of Crassy, to have felt a delight in indulging the hopes of a nearer union. But these hopes were all dissipated on his return to England. His father disapproved of the "strange alliance," and he piously says, "I yielded to my fate-I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son." The sweet mountain-flower, whom he abandoned, was however destined to emerge from obscurity to wealth and fame. She became the wife of Neckar, a citizen of Geneva, then a rich banker at Paris; who, as prime minister, afterwards attempted to direct the storms of the French revolution, and was hurled from his dignities to the obscurity from which he rose. But the celebrity of Madame Neckar was still greater, as the mother of Madame de Stael, whose talents and genius shed a lustre on all her connexions. The disappointment which Gibbon occasioned was, perhaps, no real loss. His cold and selfish heart was, as Rousseau well observed, unworthy of such a woman. But in her passage through life she drank deeply of the cup of sorrow; and had she remained the humble ornament of her native village, her course, though less splendid, might have been much happier.

In the year 1758, Mr. Gibbon was permitted to return home. Five years of industrious and well-directed study had stored his mind with deep and various knowledge. But his language, thoughts, and character, were formed in a foreign mould. He was no longer an Englishman, either in his sentiments or habits, but he was still insensibly preparing for the great work which was to be the foundation of his fame. In the company of two Swiss officers of the Dutch service, and in the character of their companion, he passed safely through France, notwithstanding the existing war. After a leisurely and agreeable journey through the Netherlands and Holland, he proceeded to England, and joined his father at London, who was there waiting his arrival. He then hastened with eager impatience to the house of his aunt Porten, and the evening of their meeting was spent in the effusions of joy and confidence.

During his absence, his father had married a second wife; and this event, with the awe which his presence had been used to inspire, occasioned him some anxiety with regard to his reception. But it proved quite satisfactory.

The prejudices which he had formed against his motherin-law were soon dissipated. "After some reserve on my side, our minds associated in confidence and friendship." By the indulgence of his parents, he was left at liberty to consult his taste in the choice of place, and company, and amusements. And his excursions were only bounded by the limits of the island, and the extent of his income. Some attempts were made to engage him as secretary in a foreign embassy. His account of his residence in England for two years, partly in London, but principally at his father's seat at Buriton, is graphic and interesting. "The metropolis affords many amusements which are open to all. It is itself an astonishing and perpetual spectacle to the curious eye; and each taste, each sense, will be gratified by the variety of objects of a morning walk. I assiduously frequented the theatres at a very propitious era of the stage, when a constellation of excellent actors, both in tragedy and comedy, was eclipsed by the meridian brightness of Garrick in the maturity of his judgment and vigour of his performance. The pleasures of a town life are within the reach of every man who is regardless of his health, his money, and his company. By the contagion of example I was sometimes seduced; but the better habits which I had formed at Lausanne, induced me to seek a more elegant and rational society. Had the rank and fortune of my parents given them an annual establishment in London, their own house would have introduced me to a numerous and polite circle of acquaintance. But my progress in the English world was in general left to my own efforts, and those efforts were languid and slow. I had not been endowed, by art or nature, with those happy gifts of confidence and address which unlock every door and every bosom. While coaches were rattling through Bond-street, I have passed many a solitary evening, in my lodging, with my books, and on the approach of spring I withdrew, without reluctance, from the noisy and extensive scene of crowds without company, and dissipation without pleasure."

From the busy scenes of the metropolis, he retired to his father's residence at Buriton. Here he enjoyed a rural residence, surrounded by a considerable estate, which his father kept in his own occupation. The internal establishment was managed by Mrs. Gibbon with taste and prudence, and they enjoyed the society of a genteel and hospitable neighbourhood. But the father could never inspire his son with his love and knowledge of farming he was accommodated with a pleasant and spacious apartment, with a library on the same floor, which soon came to be considered as his peculiar domain. He sometimes accompanied his father to public meetings, and dinner parties with the neighbouring gentry, but his chief attention was devoted to reading, and to the procuring the best editions of the most valuable books. By the assiduous study of the best English authors, he was insensibly qualifying himself for his future labours, towards which his thoughts habitually recurred. "The perfect composition, the nervous language, the well-turned periods of Dr. Robertson, inflamed me to the ambitious hope that I might one day tread in his footsteps: but the calm philosophy, the care

Life, p. 79-81.

In the spring of 1761 he, with much anxiety, appeared as the author of a small work, written in the French language, entitled, "Essai sur l'Etude de la Literature," which he commenced in Lausanne and finished after his return. This work served to raise his reputation amongst the literati of the continent, but at home it made but a slight impression. He afterwards refused to publish a second edition. This same year produced a singular change in his habits and occupations. Through a spirit of loyalty, his father and himself had taken the commissions of major and captain in the Hampshire Militia, without suspecting that the one should be dragged from his farm, and the other from his books, for the term of two years and a half, to what he calls a wandering life of military servitude. This new profession, however irksome, was not destitute of utility. The mixed society to which he was introduced, by compelling him to throw off the reserve which arose from his native shiness and foreign education, produced something approaching to the English character; whilst from the direction of the manœuvres of his battalion he acquired some knowledge of the constitution and movements of military bodies, and the meaning of military terms, which he found of advantage when he came to write the history of the Roman empire.

At the peace, his regiment was disbanded, and he gladly exchanged the life of a soldier for the retirement and study of his father's house. His time of life, and the prevailing custom, gave him a wish to make a tour upon the continent, which was quickened by a natural desire to revisit Lausanne, towards which his mind often reverted with pleasing recollections. Having obtained some valuable introductions, he set out for Paris in the beginning of 1763. The reputation which he had acquired by his Essay, aided his letters of recommendation in introducing him to the best society. He had familiar access to the morning assemblies of the philosophers, and to the evening parties of the fashionable world; and in the delights of that seducing capital he spent fourteen weeks, with so much pleasure, as to confess, that if he had been rich and independent, he should, probably, have fixed there his final residence.

From Paris he proceeded to Lausanne, where he met with a cordial reception from his former friends, who were gratified by the proof of his attachment which his visit afforded. His venerable tutor shed tears of joy. He did not however return to the homely establishment, and frugal table, of Mr. Pavilliard, but entered as a boarder the house of Mr. De Mesery, which for the beauty of its situation, the elegance of its accommodations, and the quality of its guests, long continued almost without a parallel in Europe. Here he made acquaintance with Mr. Holroyd, afterwards his friend Lord Sheffield, in whose company he performed his Italian journey. Amidst the various societies which enlivened his stay at Lausanne, there is one so singularly interesting, such a specimen of simple innocence, as to demand especial notice. favourite society had assumed from the age of its members the denomination of the spring, La Societé du Printems. It consisted of fifteen or twenty young unmarried ladies, of genteel, though not of the very first, families; the eldest perhaps about twenty, all agreeable, several handsome, and two or three of exquisite beauty. They assembled at

"My

each others' houses almost every day, without the control or even the presence of a mother or an aunt; they were trusted to their own prudence, among a crowd of young men of every nation in Europe. They laughed, they sung, they danced, they played at cards, and acted comedies; but in the midst of this careless gaiety they respected themselves, and were respected by the men. The invisible line between liberty and licentiousness was never transgressed by a gesture, a word, or a look, and their virgin chastity was never sullied by the breath of scandal or suspicion. A singular institution expressive of the innocent simplicity of Swiss manners.'

After a stay of nearly eleven months at Lausanne, he proceeded to Rome. There it was that he first formed the distinct idea of his history. He had been constantly preparing, by the most recondite researches, for some such undertaking, and his attention had been successively drawn to various objects, which it is not now necessary to recapitulate, as nothing but the bare recollection of them remain. Though the view of the capitol of ancient Rome, swarming with monks and friars, produced his final determination, yet the first bias towards such a theme had been given many years before. "In the summer of 1751, I accompanied my father on a visit to Mr. Hoare's in Wiltshire, but I was less delighted with the beauties of Stourhead than with discovering in the library a common book, the continuation of Echard's Roman History, which is indeed executed with more skill and taste than the previous work. To me the reigns of the successors of Constantine were absolutely new, and I was immersed in the passage of the Goths over the Danube, when the summons of the dinner bell dragged me reluctantly from my intellectual feast. As soon as I returned to Bath I procured the second and third volumes of Howel's History of the World, which exhibit the Byzantine history on a larger scale. Mahomet and his Saracens soon fixed my attention; and some instinct of criticism directed me to the genuine sources. Simon Ockley, an original in every sense, first opened my eyes, and I was led from one book to another, till I had ranged round the circle of oriental history." This was the preliminary step of preparation for the History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, taken before he had attained his sixteenth year.

His intention, when it was first formed, was only to write the history of the decline of the city, but subsequent inquiries gradually extended his attention to that of the empire. The studies which he then prosecuted, with a direct design to this object, are thus enumerated: "The classics as low as Tacitus, the younger Pliny, and Juvenal, were my old and familiar companions; I insensibly plunged into the ocean of the Augustan history; and in the descending series, I investigated, with my pen almost always in my hand, the original records, both Greek and Latin, from the reign of Trajan to the last of the western Cæsars. 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. Through the darkness of the middle ages, I explored my way in the Annals and Antiquities of Italy of the learned Muratori, and compared them diligently with the parallel or transverse lines of Sigonius and Maffei, Baronius and Pagi, till I almost

grasped the ruins of Rome in the fourteenth century, without suspecting that this final chapter must be attained by the labour of six quartos, and twenty years. Among the books which I purchased, the Theodosian Code, with the Commentary of James Godefroy, must be gratefully remembered. I used it, and much I used it, as a work of history rather than of jurisprudence, but in every light it must be considered as a full and capacious repository of the political state of the empire in the fourth and fifth centuries. As I believed, and as I still believe, that the propagation of the gospel and the triumph of the church are inseparably connected with the decline of the Roman monarchy, I weighed the causes and effects of the revolution, and contrasted the narratives and apologies of the christians themselves, with the glances of candour or enmity which the pagans have cast on the rising sects. The Jewish and Heathen Testimonies, as they are collected and illustrated by Dr. Lardner, directed, without superseding, my search of the originals; and in an ample dissertation on the miraculous darkness of the passion, I privately withdrew my conclusions from the silence of an unbelieving age."‡

From Rome Mr. Gibbon proceeded to Naples, whence, after his curious appetite, as he terms it, had been satiated with Italy, he returned home, where he arrived in June, 1765. The five years and a half which elapsed between that time and his father's death, in 1770, he reflected upon as the part of his life which he passed with the least portion of enjoyment, and which he remembered with the least satisfaction. The resignation of his father, and the death of Sir Thomas Worsley, occasioned his appointment to the rank of major and lieutenant-colonel commandant of the militia regiment: but every year made him more dissatisfied with the occupations and company to which this office introduced him and in the year 1770, he finally renounced the connexion. In the mean time, the solitude of his father's house was enlivened by a visit from his most intimate friend at Lausanne, Mr. Deyverdun. With this amiable young man he passed several weeks or months in a year for four successive summers; "and our free conversations," says he, " on every topic that could interest the heart or understanding, would have reconciled me to a desert or a prison." The winter months were spent in London, where he continually enlarged the sphere of his acquaintance, and in conjunction with several travellers established a weekly convivial meeting under the name of the Roman Club. But amidst this variety of amusements, and occupations, he felt a bitter regret that he had not originally devoted himself to the pursuits of active life. He saw his contemporaries move along in the paths of wealth and honour, establish themselves in marriage, and possess houses of their own, whilst he remained stationary, alone, and insignificant, an inmate of another's house. mented," says he, " that at the proper age I had not embraced the lucrative pursuits of the law or of trade, the chances of civil office or India adventure, or even the fat slumbers of the church.-Experience showed me the use of grafting my private consequence on the importance of a great professional body. From the emoluments of a profession I might have derived an ample fortune or a competent income, instead of being stinted to the same narrow allowance, to be increased only by an event which I sincerely deprecated. The progress and the knowledge of our domestic disorders aggravated my anxiety; and I

Ib. p. 140.

"I la