it useless to the
student; nor does its survival depend only or even mainly on its great
literary qualities, which have made it one of the classics of the
language. In some of these qualities Hume was the equal of Gibbon and in
others his superior, and he brought to his history a more penetrating
and philosophical intellect and an equally calm and unenthusiastic
nature; but the study which Hume bestowed on his subject was so
superficial and his statements were often so inaccurate, that his work
is now never quoted as an authority. With Gibbon it is quite otherwise.
His marvelous industry, his almost unrivaled accuracy of detail, his
sincere love of truth, his rare discrimination and insight in weighing
testimony and in judging character, have given him a secure place among
the greatest historians of the world.

His life lasted only fifty-six years; he died in London on January 15th,
1794. With a single exception his history is his only work of real
importance. That exception is his admirable autobiography. Gibbon left
behind him six distinct sketches, which his friend Lord Sheffield put
together with singular skill. It is one of the best specimens of
self-portraiture in the language, reflecting with pellucid clearness
both the life and character, the merits and defects, of its author. He
was certainly neither a hero nor a saint; nor did he possess the moral
and intellectual qualities that dominate in the great conflicts of life,
sway the passions of men, appeal powerfully to the imagination, or
dazzle and impress in social intercourse. He was a little slow, a little
pompous, a little affected and pedantic. In the general type of his mind
and character he bore much more resemblance to Hume, Adam Smith, or
Reynolds, than to Johnson or Burke. A reserved scholar, who was rather
proud of being a man of the world; a confirmed bachelor, much wedded to
his comforts though caring nothing for luxury, he was eminently moderate
in his ambitions, and there was not a trace of passion or enthusiasm in
his nature. Such a man was not likely to inspire any strong devotion.
But his temper was most kindly, equable, and contented; he was a steady
friend, and he appears to have been always liked and honored in the
cultivated and uncontentious society in which he delighted. His life was
not a great one, but it was in all essentials blameless and happy. He
found the work which was most congenial to him. He pursued it with
admirable industry a