concept had laid upon him the duty of combining in a single composition a historical narrative, made up of tested and therefore reliable data, with an interpretation of those facts which both shaped the narrative and gave meaning to it. The writing of history was for Gibbon a moral discourse; it was much more than an antiquarian gathering of data, however securely based or chronologically arranged. But he was also more than a philosopher, working from first principles or broad sweeps of knowledge; philosophical exposition required the ballast of fact to give truth to conclusions. Gibbon was also a stylist, a self-conscious literary creator, who needed not only to shape aesthet- ically the structure of the whole work but to employ in his writing the appropriate mode of expression. As he explains in his Memoirs (p. 184), finding the right style for the Decline and Fall, the correct voice with which to address his readership, required experiment. His greatest achievement, of course, was to satisfy all these obligations during the 17 years of concentrated reading, reflection and writing which produced the six volumes of his history. The scholarly substance of that work remains a staggering performance, a monument of collected data; the interpretive significance of the story he narrates with its emphasis on the causes of decay in civilisation is also profound; and the style has the pace, clarity, irony and wit to carry even modern readers through his multiple volumes and to establish an intimacy between author and reader. Gibbon's problem in writing the Memoirs was, first, to establish his facts. His curiosity about the past and his reputation as a scholar required and encouraged him to try and present to the public a factually reliable narrative of his own life. The stimulus seems to have been an apparently sound body of information about his ancestry provided by a fellow scholar: this was the gift in 1786 by Ernst Theodor Langer, librarian to the Duke of Brunswick, of a 1682 treatise on heraldry by John Gibbon the Herald, Bluemantle Pursuivant. John Gibbon included in his text some notes on his family history, referring to various illustrious Kentish forbears. Edward Gibbon leapt to the conclusion, rashly for a historian but revealingly for a man with social pretensions, that John Gibbon was the brother of Matthew Gibbon, his great-grandfather, also from Kent, and that he therefore shared these distinguished if remote ancestors. It was unsettling somewhat late in the day, in 1792, to discover from the researches of Sir Samuel Egerton Brydges, a distant relative, that this connection was false. It com- pounded Gibbon's authorial difficulties. He had been trying to figure out his family and personal history while living abroad in Lausanne, away from first-hand documentary and oral sources, and reliant on his memory, some early and incomplete journals, and on such corre- spondence as he had retained or could recover.2 Factual accuracy in autobiography is not easy to obtain -- even when desired. -16- |