would be ungrateful of the Biblical student to deny that the thorough ventilation which this question has received, has been productive of the most beneficial results as regards the elucidation of the New Testament.

'The mutual connexion of the different portions of the Gospel history has been more fully brought to light; the phraseology of the sacred writers has been more accurately analysed; and the structure of the whole Evangelical word more perfectly exhibited, in consequence of their discussion, than in any previous stage of Biblical exegesis.'-Pp. 319, 320.

The inspiration of the Old Testament is well deduced, on occasion, from phenomena in the New:

'Under this class comes also a series of references by which the writers of the New Testament exemplify, in the plainest manner, their belief in the inspiration of the Old Testament; and from which it obviously results, that each portion of Scripture must be regarded as part of one divine whole-I mean the system of collective quotations, where a number of passages are brought together, in the same connexion, from various books of the Bible, in order to establish some one point of Christian doctrine. Of this, the Epistle to the Hebrews affords many instances; but the most striking example is, perhaps, supplied by the passages commencing at the tenth verse of the third chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, where five different texts from the Psalms are combined in the same quotation, with a text from Isaiah,-the whole series commencing with the formula, "As it is written." It is plain that in these collective quotations, the Apostles adduce the several passages as all denoting, and from the first pointing to one great truth: although, separately, in their primary connexion, such statements of the Old Testament had often merely reference to more special relations.'-Pp. 332, 333.

Much curious illustrative matter will be found in Mr. Lee's notes, more especially Hebraic and Patristic learning. It is also shown in several places that the novelty of certain methods of attack on Scripture, and also of defence, has been assumed without any reason. See, e.g. p. 337. The learning and ingenuity displayed in these notes, indeed, would alone entitle Mr. Lee's volume to a place on any Biblical student's shelves: and we trust that, though we have been unable to assent to the general line taken in it, we shall have not ineffectually commended it, on other grounds, to the attention which it so well deserves.

27

ART. II.-An Inquiry into the Credibility of the Early Roman History. By the RIGHT HON. SIR GEORGE CORNEWALL LEWIS. 2 vols. London: J. W. Parker & Son. 1855.

WHAT we are to believe and what not to believe in the wide domain of history; how much is to be accepted as objective fact, and how much as mere legend or ingenious conjecture; where the line of demarcation is to be drawn between solid truth and the creations of fancy;-these are questions surely of no mean interest and importance, problems to be ranked among the deepest and most serious which can occupy the human mind. For such inquiry, when engaged upon the loftiest objects, is inseparably entwined with the eternal destiny of each one of us; when descending to matters of a somewhat lower nature, it is still intimately concerned with our inward life, as moral and spiritual beings; and, finally, even when occupied with questions of an apparently trivial character, it is probably tending, however unconsciously, to the formation of a habit of minda habit either of that easy acquiescence in all that is brought before us which leads to an excessive credulity and to superstition; or of a restlessly critical temper, which distrusts the surest evidence, and finally lands its possessor amidst the dreary, deadly wastes of universal scepticism.

These questions must, in some sort, be almost coeval with history itself. The rudest ballad which ever professed to impart to a nation in its infancy anything approximating to a true account of its heroes, and their achievements in peace or war, must have been framed with a view of satisfying the requirements of those who heard it. Untrustworthy as might be the matter, and uncritical the listeners, there were yet, doubtless, certain bounds to credulity, which the minstrel could not safely venture to transgress. Some criterion, however vague and shifting, would exist in the hearers' minds. The standard might be most illusory. We are all acquainted with the story of the King of Siam, who, very naturally, refused to believe in the existence of ice; and with that of the worthy pair who, after unquestioning acceptance of the greatest marvels which the imagination of their sailor son could impose upon them, were arrested in their career of belief, and compelled to reject the narrative, when it arrived at the mention of flyingfish. And in like manner the pilgrim of the eighth century, who was expected, says Amedée Thierry, if he would please the in

mates of noble castles, to have visited the realms of fantasy, to bring news of their goings-on, and to have held intercourse with heroes who never lived, or at least were never so circumstanced, -even he would find a limit placed upon his powers of invention by the existence of certain conditions of fitness and probability to which he would be rigorously bound to conform. To this day, no ballad-singer in the streets of Naples would dare to cast an imputation upon the fair fame of that idol of popular esteem, Rinaldo. Rinaldo may have achieved much that is marvellous; he could not have done anything that is cowardly or base: the thing is simply incredible.

In times and in countries where the standard of education is high, we should naturally expect to find a correspondingly just and reasonable standard of criticism. This gift, however, appears to be very variable, and not necessarily referable to the amount of general information which is extant in a given age. Thus of medieval times it has been justly observed, that the literati who were giants in logic and the metaphysics of theology were but the merest children in criticism. Witness, for example, the unhesitating acceptance of the work upon the Angelic hierarchy which bore the name of Dionysius as its author, as a genuine production of S. Paul's distinguished convert, the Areopagite. In this too, as in other departments of human skill, original genius has frequently shone forth like a beacon, in solitary grandeur, amidst surrounding darkness. What writer of ancient Greece, early or late, has displayed the truly critical temper so fully as Thucydides? Among the Fathers of the Church, can even the great doctors of the fourth and fifth centuries be placed, in this respect, on a level with Origen? Nevertheless, there are seasons in which this faculty gains perceptible advancement. Increase of critical skill, as respects both history and literature, has been truly termed one of the real boasts of these later generations, over the most intellectual and able of the ancient world;' and if the possession of this faculty has been, and continues to be, very morbidly and mischievously abused, we must not on that account be betrayed into the denial of its real growth and stature, any more than of its interest and importance.

And for once, —a rare event, it must be owned, in a great question of mental philosophy,-the inquirer, who would fain make acquaintance with the most brilliant exhibitions of recent critical research in the field of history, need not be exclusively or even primarily referred to the learned labours of France and Germany. We are but giving utterance to the convictions of far better judges than ourselves, when we challenge for Great Britain the first place in this department of knowledge, on the

strength of the productions of Mr. Grote and Colonel Mure; and finally, though perhaps less confidently, of the present volumes of Sir G. C. Lewis.' It is likewise remarkable, that whereas the prizes of our bar and senate are supposed, and not without reason, to engross the powers natural and acquired which on the Continent would have been devoted to studies of a more abstract and recondite nature, these three distinguished authors all are, or have been, members of the house of Her Majesty's most faithful Commons.'

If, after all the toil and learning expended upon them, the present aspect of the questions connected with historic credibility remains somewhat shifting and unsettled in its character, it does not therefore follow that nothing has been gained by the examination which they have undergone. The profit has not been scanty; and even a hasty and imperfect survey may suffice to make good this assertion. The mere attempt to perform such a task may indeed appear to render us liable to a charge of presumption, inasmuch as it involves more or less of criticism upon very learned and highly gifted writers, and essays to arbitrate between conflicting opinions, of which each has been supported by deep research and consummate skill. But, on the other hand, the vast store of materials collected by several of the investigators, and more especially by Mr. Grote, are sufficient to enable a very inferior scholar to form some opinion of his own; and as in the most intellectual of games, that of chess, a bystander who is not comparable in ability to either of the combatants, may yet occasionally detect oversights in the play of both, even so too may the student of the very opposite theories of Mr. Grote and Colonel Mure, of Niebuhr and Sir G. C. Lewis, be alternately inclined to accept or reject the arguments of each, without making the slightest pretensions to one tithe of their ability and information.

All history may, for our present purpose, be divided into firstly, that which rests, and, secondly, that which does not rest, upon contemporary written evidence: a distinction impressed upon us with great force and ability in the volumes of Sir G. C. Lewis. Such a division is, of course, an exhaustive one: but the former class may admit of a convenient subdivision into (1.) history which has remained, if we may so speak, untouched by the addition of legendary matter, and (2.) history which has become the groundwork of subsequent legends. Thus, for example, the lives of Pericles, of Scipio Africanus, of Louis XIV., appear to be the subject of narratives, which we may fairly

1 For the sake of brevity, this work will be here cited simply as 'Lewis.'

entitle pure history: while, on the contrary, the career of a Cyrus, an Attila, or a Charlemagne (albeit each is as truly an historical personage as the preceding) has been made the basis of many a wild romance in Persia, or in Gaul and Spain, or again in Italy and Hungary. We shall thus obtain three main classes, each of which we propose to consider separately.

I. History which is based upon contemporary written evidence, and has not been made the subject of subsequent legend.

II. History which is based upon contemporary written evidence, and has likewise been made the subject of subsequent legend.

III. History which does not rest upon any contemporaneous written evidence.

I. Let us first look at the case where there is contemporary evidence, which has been preserved by writing and unmixed with the legends of after ages. Much that is valuable in connexion with this branch of our inquiry may be derived from the lectures (especially the final lecture) of Dr. Arnold, and the first lecture of Professor Smyth, upon Modern History; as also from one of the few (alas!) unexceptionable works of Mr. F. W. Newman, his very clever Lectures on Logic.

The first question to be asked is, whether the documents on which we rely are genuine. That this is a practical question must be known to all from sad experience. The case of the false Decretals of Isidore will at once occur to many. Or let the inquirer take up a single volume of the Benedictine edition, say of St. Augustine, and see how many pages of the smaller print mark the existence of treatises and sermons falsely ascribed to that great doctor. Such ascriptions, however erroneous, may indeed have been made innocently in an uncritical age. But modern times supply examples of a more direct and conscious forgery. In this very culpable species of deceit a melancholy preeminence must be ascribed to our neighbours across the channel. Thus (to take one example out of many which might be adduced) during the French Revolution there was published, in Paris, a collection of letters purporting to be the composition of the unfortunate Louis XVI. So skilful was the deception, that an English lady of much literary ability, Helen Maria Williams, paid handsomely for the manuscripts, and translated them. A leading Edinburgh Reviewer, Francis Horner, by no means a credulous person, criticised, and pronounced in favour of the authenticity of the work: and it was even quoted as genuine in one of the French Chambers after the restoration of the Bourbons. But doubts arose; and at length two men came forward, and avowed with easy effrontery, that they had