THE PRESIDENT'S ADDRESS. 
9 
In this enlightened and patriotic movement the history of our 
country has fully shared. In 1776 Hume wrote to congratulate 
Gibbon on the appearance of the first two volumes of his Decline 
and Fall of the Roman Empire, and as Robertson had previously 
published two of the great works with which his name is associated, 
offered him a place in what he called the " Triumvirate of British 
Historians." The proud title was not an idle one, and has been 
fully confirmed by the verdict of posterity ; and if the glory of 
these writers has somewhat faded during the present age, it is only 
because other historians have arisen, more patient in the scrutiny 
of original authorities, and masters of a more interesting, if not a 
more dignified, style. It may be a prejudice derived from the par- 
tiality of one's boyish days, but I cannot help regarding Macaulay 
as the inspirer and originator of this revived interest in the history 
of our country. Write down all his errors, say that he is not im- 
partial, that he was the slave of prejudice, magnify, as it is easy to 
do, the faults of his style, the fact still remains, that thousands of 
Englishmen were first attracted by the irresistible charm of his 
writings to study the history of their own country, and experienced, 
as he had prophesied, that the effect of that study was " to excite 
thankfulness in all religious minds and hope in the breasts of all 
patriots." The youth of the present generation have never known 
an enthusiasm equal to that with which the first two volumes of 
his History were received thirty or forty years ago, and the eager- 
ness with which we, who then were boys and girls, committed to 
memory whole pages of his glowing periods. 
In the recent death of John Richard Green the Muse of History 
has had to mourn the loss of one of her truest and most gifted 
votaries, and while Clio's tears are still undried we would draw 
near and pay to his memory the tribute of respect. His constitution, 
originally delicate, was still further impaired by the too faithful 
discharge of his duties as a clergyman in the East End of London, 
but weakness of body could not check the ardour of his spirit j 
struggling with disease, his wasted form might be seen by the casual 
visitor propped up with pillows as he listened while some historical 
work was being read to him, or dictated the closing chapters of his 
last and favourite work, The Conquest of England. He possessed in an 
eminent degree those faculties which go to make the great historian. 
These are numerous, but two may be singled out for special mention 
— the love of humanity, which made him associate every spot in his 
