"I know him a little, and never suspected the extent of his talents; for he is perfectly modest, or I want penetration, which I know too; but I intend to know him a great deal more." He oddly enough says that Gibbon was the "son of a foolish alderman," which shows at least how little the author was known in the great world up to this time.

Now, however, society was determined to know more of him, the surest proof, not of merit, but of success.

It must have been a rather intoxicating moment, but Gibbon had a cool head not easily turned.

It would be unfair not to add that he had something much better, a really warm and affectionate regard for old friends, the best preservative against the fumes of flattery and sudden fame.

Holroyd, Deyverdun, Madame Necker were more to him than all the great people with whom he now became acquainted.