feet high from the ground. He beguiled the time with Homer
and Clarendon, talking with his servant, Caplin, and his dog Muff, and
sometimes with the French postilions, and he found them the least
rational of the animals mentioned.

He reached his journey's end, to alight amid a number of minor
troubles, which to a less easy tempered man would have been real
annoyances. He found that Deyverdun had reckoned without his host, or
rather his tenant, and that they could not have possession of the
house for several months, so he had to take lodgings. Then he sprained
his ankle, and this brought on a bad attack of the gout, which laid
him up completely. However, his spirits never gave way. In time his
books arrived, and the friends got installed in their own house. His
satisfaction has then no bounds, with the people, the place, the way
of living, and his daily companion. We must now leave him for a short
space in the enjoyment of his happiness, while we briefly consider the
labours of the previous ten years.

CHAPTER VII.

THE FIRST THREE VOLUMES OF THE DECLINE AND FALL.

The historian who is also an artist is exposed to a particular
drawback from which his brethren in other fields are exempt. The mere
lapse of time destroys the value and even the fidelity of his
pictures. In other arts correct colouring and outline remain correct,
and if they are combined with imaginative power, age rather enhances
than diminishes their worth. But the historian lives under another
law. His reproduction of a past age, however full and true it may
appear to his contemporaries, appears less and less true to his
successors. The way in which he saw things ceases to be satisfactory;
we may admit his accuracy, but we add a qualification referring to the
time when he wrote, the point of view that he occupied. And we feel
that what was accurate for him is no longer accurate for us. This
superannuation of historical work is not similar to the superseding of
scientific work which is ever going on, and is the capital test of
progress. Scientific books become rapidly old-fashioned, because the
science to which they refer is in constant growth, and a work on
chemistry or biology is out of date by reason of incompleteness or
the discovery of unsuspected errors. The scientific side of history,
if we allow it to have a scientific side, conforms to this rule, and
presents no singularity. Closer inspection of our materials, the
employment of the co