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Brief Lives

Edward Gibbon (1737-1794)

John P. Irish considers some principles of history through the history of a historian.

In 1764, while on the traditional Grand Tour for wealthy young Europeans, Edward Gibbon (1737-1794) visited the ruins of Rome. This encounter profoundly influenced him, almost as a religious experience. As he recounted in his Memoirs of My Life and Writings (1796): “After a sleepless night I trod with a lofty step the ruins of the Forum; each memorable spot where Romulus stood, or Tully spoke, or Caesar fell was at once present to my eye.” This moment inspired what is arguably the most important historical work ever published, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (1776-1788).

Before this monumental publication, however, in 1761 Gibbon wrote a defense of the humanities: An Essay on the Study of Literature (ESL). This work laid the foundations for his extensive history of Rome’s fall, blending rich philosophical insights with a deep exploration of history. It also established the methodology and principles upon which his magnum opus would be constructed. It is this early work that we will focus on most here.

Edward Gibbon, by Henry Walton, 1774

A Biographical Sketch

Edward Gibbon was the only surviving son of six children (five boys and one girl) born to Edward Gibbon Sr, a Member of Parliament and a gentleman farmer who generally neglected the young Edward. His mother, Judith Porten, died when he was a boy.

Born at Lime Grove in Putney, Surrey (now in London), Gibbon struggled with his health early in life, leading many to believe he would not survive childhood. Initially, he attended Dr Woddeson’s school in Kingston-upon-Thames. After his mother’s death, he moved to the Westminster School boarding house, owned by his aunt Catherine Porten, whom he credited with instilling in him a love of reading: “To her kind lessons I ascribe my early and invincible love of reading, which I would not exchange for the treasures of India” (Memoirs, p.67).

In 1752, at the age of fifteen, Gibbon was sent to Magdalen College, Oxford, which he later described as the most ‘useless’ time of his life. The college’s stifling curriculum, he believed, discouraged free thought and inquiry. During this period Gibbon converted to Catholicism after exploring the writings of the rationalist theologian Conyers Middleton, who denied miracles. Gibbon objected to Middleton’s views, leading him to the works of Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet and Robert Parsons, ultimately converting to Catholicism in 1753, much to his father’s chagrin. Following his conversion, Gibbon was sent to Lausanne, Switzerland, under the care of Daniel Pavillard, a Reformed (that is, Protestant) pastor.

Initially dreading the move, Gibbon found Pavillard respectful and intellectually stimulating. Pavillard taught him French and introduced him to some of the most important philosophical influences of his life: Grotius, Bayle, Montesquieu, Cicero, and most importantly, John Locke (1632-1704). This period was crucial to his intellectual development. J. W. Burrow has argued that Gibbon’s time in Lausanne transformed him into a scholar. During this time, Gibbon also reverted to Anglicanism – a decision influenced by his father’s threats to disinherit him. He officially reconverted on Christmas Day, 1754.

In Lausanne, Gibbon immersed himself in the works of Homer and was introduced to the significant Greek historians Herodotus and Xenophon. His whole Swiss experience ignited his passion for liberty and republicanism. By the mid-1760s, he began writing a history of the government of Berne (which he never published and later destroyed). This era also brought him into contact with prominent French thinkers such as Diderot, D’Alembert, Helvetius, D’Holbach, Rousseau, and Voltaire. Although he himself tolerated these philosophes, with some reservations, he viewed their radicalism as intolerant atheism.

From 1760-1762, Gibbon served in the British army during the Seven Years War. In 1761, he published his first work, An Essay on the Study of Literature. In 1765, he returned to London, restless and eager to escape his father’s shadow. His father died in 1770, and Gibbon began working on The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, with the first volume published to great success in 1776. In 1774, Gibbon was elected a Member of Parliament. It was the golden age of British parliamentary eloquence. He listened to debates on the American colonies’ revolt and the oratory of Burke, Sheridan, and Fox, and realized that he was not a gifted orator. Nevertheless, he found himself in an esteemed position, with a parliamentary career and a lucrative appointment as one of the Lords Commissioners of Trade and Plantations. However, economic reform soon ended his tenure and extra income. In 1783, he left Parliament and returned to Lausanne, where he completed the final volumes of The Decline and Fall in a summer house overlooking Lake Leman.

Gibbon never regretted his decision to return to Lausanne, although his last years there saw the death of his friend Georges Deyverdun and the outbreak of the French Revolution. He returned to London in 1793, where he underwent surgery, and died in early 1794. He’s buried in the vault of the Sheffield family in the parish church at Fletching, East Sussex, since he was staying with Lord Sheffield at the time of his death.

An Essay on the Study of Literature

An Essay on the Study of Literature was originally published in French in 1761, quickly followed by a poor English translation.

Although the title might suggest a narrow focus on the study of literature, the Essay actually provides a robust defense of the humanities generally. During the Enlightenment of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, science and mathematics dominated the European intellectual conversation: the Essay aimed to defend the humanities against their neglect and even contempt prevalent in the age of Reason, especially in France: “At present Natural Philosophy and Mathematics are seated on the throne, from which they view their sisters prostrated before them, enchained to their chariot, or at best employed to decorate their triumphal procession. Perhaps their fall may not be far off” (ESL, p.3, trans. Robert Mankin).

Gibbon, himself a man of the Enlightenment, was nevertheless willing to criticize two of its chief characteristics: a scorn for the past, and the exaltation of wit, elegance, and reason over scholarship. He was concerned about the Enlightenment’s excesses of ‘philosophic enthusiasm’ in its belief in reason, progress, and science. He believed that many leading figures of the day held disdain for the Greek and Roman classics and Renaissance writers, undervaluing historical knowledge. Later, in The Decline and Fall, Gibbon criticizes a contemporary author who “quotes nobody, according to the last fashion of the French writers.” This encapsulates his belief in the diminishing value of historical knowledge among Enlightenment thinkers.

Later in life, Gibbon was somewhat critical of this youthful essay – not for its content, or its defense of the humanities and historical scholarship, but for its style and mechanics. The essay was published in French (the language in which he thought at the time) as he believed that would attract a wider audience than Latin. It indeed found success in France, and brought Gibbon some attention in the academic world, but it went largely unnoticed in Britain. Nevertheless, the essay laid the groundwork for Gibbon’s philosophical approach to history, establishing the methodology he would use for the rest of his life.

Against Cartesian Rationalism

In his Essay Gibbon specifically targeted René Descartes (1596-1650). Although Descartes published little in politics, history, or ethics, he profoundly impacted the study of history.

Descartes had aimed to establish a new method of scientific and philosophical investigation based on the certainties of mathematical knowledge. He believed that this method could be applied to all fields of study, including the social sciences.

Descartes begins by accepting only what appears to him as ‘clear and distinct’ truths: “I will admit as true only what has been deduced from indubitable common notions so evidently that it is fit to be considered as mathematical demonstration” (Meditations on First Philosophy, 1642). Like a geometer building proofs, he would then deduce other proofs from these fundamental concepts.

Descartes viewed mathematics as the foundation for all intellectual knowledge, and this foundation extends beyond the natural sciences: “I came to see that the exclusive concern of mathematics is with questions of order or measure, and that it is irrelevant whether the measure in question involves numbers, shapes, stars, sounds, or any other object whatever. This made me realize that there must be a general science which explains all the points that can be raised concerning order and measure, irrespective of the subject matter” (Ibid). So Descartes believed he had discovered a universal pattern to the formal study of all systems and fields of intellectual knowledge.

The philosophers known as the ‘rationalists’ promoted Descartes’ method. They believed in the power of reason to generate knowledge purely on a priori grounds, independent of experience. In contrast, the ‘empiricists’, who opposed Descartes, argued that knowledge came from observation (a posteriori knowledge).

This philosophical debate significantly affected ideas about the study of history. Cartesian skepticism applied to history, and characterized as ‘anti-historical skepticism’ or ‘Historical Pyrrhonism’, questioned the value of historical knowledge. Descartes’ willingness to discard all previous supposed knowledge led some philosophers to question the value of studying the past at all, arguing that history seemed to narrow rather than enlarge the mind. Human reason, not inherited knowledge, was sovereign. However, for Gibbon, this rejection risked losing the valuable insights from historical study. He argued that contemporary Enlightenment thinkers who followed Descartes’ skepticism were the ones narrowing the mind, since Descartes’ skepticism placed all inherited knowledge under either suspicion or outright condemnation. The debate between ‘the Ancients and the Moderns’ raged throughout Europe. Britain was also experiencing a similar philosophical shift, with Newtonian mathematics and experimentation emphasizing the order and clarity of science. Gibbon warned: during the Renaissance, “the handsome thing was to study and admire the ancients; our age thinks it easier to ignore and despise them. I believe both sides are right” (ESL, p.4). He acknowledged the crudeness of past scholars, and argued they could benefit from modern thinking: “The world was enlightened enough to feel the utility of their work, but neither reasonable nor polite enough to realize that their investigations could have been guided by the torch of Philosophy” (Ibid). But rather than learning to combine the best of both worlds, Descartes dismisses the past with a derision more harmful than its worship.

Ancient Rome (detail) Giovanni Paulo Panini, 1757

Philosophical History

Despite Descartes’ anti-historical skepticism, some believed that studying the past provided valuable information and essential building blocks for knowledge.

One of the early empiricists who challenged Cartesian rationalism was the English philosopher John Locke. Locke believed that sense experience was the foundations of knowledge, and also that most of our knowledge was probabilistic. These ideas set Locke at odds with the rationalists. Locke heavily influenced Gibbon, and Gibbon frequently referenced Locke’s impact on his intellectual development: “Locke’s Treatise of Government instructed me in the knowledge of Whig principles… I carefully went through the Essay on Human Understanding… and more than once I have been led… into a deep and instructive train of thinking” (Memoirs, pp.99-100).

During his time in Switzerland under the tutelage of Pavilliard, Gibbon found further intellectual influences that would shape his approach to the philosophical study of history.

Philosophers of history faced two general criticisms implied by Cartesian skepticism: first, the potential falsity or inconsistency of sources, calling into question the certainty of evaluations; and second, the inherent biases often plaguing historians’ research and assessments. Gibbon addressed these concerns in his Essay. Regarding the credibility of historical documents, Gibbon argued that while some might be fakes, authenticity could be determined through careful scrutiny. He emphasized the importance of comparing documents and identifying falsifications: “Criticism, in my view, is the art of judging writing and writers; what they said, how well they said it… [History] opens up an immense field devoted to the examination and criticism of facts” (ESL, p.13). Here Locke’s influence on Gibbon is evident. Locke explained: “Rational Knowledge, is the perception of the certain Agreement, or Disagreement of any two Ideas, by the intervention of one or more other Ideas” (Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 4.17.17). Gibbon also believed that historical facts should be compared and weighed to establish certainty: “not to grasp a demonstration but to compare the weight of conflicting probabilities” (ESL, p.16). So Gibbon valued the cumulative wisdom of the ages while maintaining a critical eye toward historical consistency, accuracy, and verifiability.

Another source of doubt about the validity of historical knowledge was historians’ biases, which could turn them into ideological advocates rather than objective observers. Gibbon stressed the importance of critical scrutiny in pursuit of objective truth: history “opens up an immense field devoted to the examination and criticism of facts” (p.13). Historians must also strive for objectivity, free from personal biases, using proper evidence and its correct application, and Gibbon believed in preserving and employing all facts and evidence: “Someone who writes for all men must draw only on sources common to all men, in their hearts and in the spectacle of nature [ie, reason and evidence]. Pride alone can lead him to overstep these limits… Not only the author’s character but that of his work will have an influence on the way it is carried out” (ESL, pp.8-9). So for Gibbon historical documents were valuable as they potentially provide objective empirical evidence. As he wrote, “Let us conserve everything preciously. From the meanest facts, a Montesquieu will unravel relations unknown to the vulgar… Their hope is that genius and felicitous efforts will detect properties hitherto concealed” (p.26). Historical bits and pieces serve as the raw data needed to construct the historical narrative: “No author is forgotten, not even the one farthest removed… perhaps it is there the critic will encounter a beam of light that will confirm his discoveries or challenge his hypothesis” (p.13). So one does not know in advance what will be useful. Gibbon argued that the new method’s discarding of historical information posed a significant threat to the critical historian, since unlike natural phenomena, or theoretical fields like mathematics, historical evidence, once destroyed, is irretrievable: “For the losses of history are indeed irretrievable: when the productions of fancy or science have been swept away, new poets may invent, and new philosophers may reason; but if the inscription of a single fact be once obliterated, it can never be restored by the united efforts of genius and industry” (An Address). So Descartes and the rationalists, represented by the Moderns, were dangerous adversaries for the philosopher of history, as their skepticism of history could cause irreparable harm. In this way, the debate between the Ancients and the Moderns highlighted a fundamental disagreement over the value of historical information, and who could judge its epistemic value. The epistemic value of primary texts was fundamentally important for Gibbon.

Moreover, unlike scientists, historians deal with truths that can direct us: “sciences consist of knowledge alone. Their principles are speculative truths, not maxims of conduct… [Historians] make the proposition familiar, apply it justly, and use it as a guide in one’s studies and a torch in one’s direction” (ESL, p.16). Historians also never suppose Cartesian absolute certainty, but instead delve into Lockean probabilities: “he never presents his conjectures as truth, his inductions as facts, his probabilities as demonstrations” (p.13).

Conclusion

Gibbon’s Essay is an attempt to define the vocation of the historian. The study of the past reveals connections, and penetrates beneath surface appearances to explain these connections. One of Gibbon’s strongest influences here was Tacitus, who believed that the historian “employs the force of rhetoric only to display the connection between the links that form the chain of historical events, and to instruct the reader by sensible and profound reflections” (Letters, 108). For many Enlightenment thinkers who valued history, the concept of progress illustrated and explained the development of civilization. Historians should not just focus on battles and exemplary lives, as Renaissance historiography did, but, like the ancient historians, should also consider the manners and spirit of historical times. Montesquieu’s influence is evident here, especially in his classic work of legal scholarship, The Spirit of the Laws (1748). The diversity of human societies, ideas, and ways of life made civilization’s advance intelligible, bringing history into the ‘philosophic’ camp and serving the Enlightenment. Voltaire’s Essay on Customs (1756) also argued that the study of history should be instructive. For Gibbon, the study of history involves describing the pathology of the human mind in action – the history of error, prejudice, and illusion. As Gibbon states, history is “little more than the register of the crimes, follies, and mistakes of mankind” (History, 1.77). This recognition makes the task of understanding history even more urgent.

John P. Irish is an educator and independent researcher living in Bridgeport, Texas.