History of the transmission of ancient books to modern times / together with the process of historical proof; or, a concise account of the means by which genuineness of ancient literature generally, and the authenticity of historical works especially are ascertained including incidental remarks upon the relative strength of the evidence usually adduced in behalf of the Holy Scriptures

by Isaac Taylor

2. The means of information he possessed;

3. The time and circumstances of the first publication of the work;

4. The exceptions it may be necessary to make to his testimony on particular points; arising either from the peculiar nature of the facts affirmed, or from the apparent influence of prejudice—personal, or national; and—

5. The agreement of the narrative in question with evidence derived from other, and independent sources.

In judging then of the authenticity of an historical work we have, in the first place, to form an estimate of the writer’s moral and intellectual character and qualifications; supposing that the means of forming an opinion on these points are within our reach.

If the personal integrity of an historian has happened to be put to the proof by any well known and remarkable events, in which he was concerned, the reader whose own character may qualify him to feel the force of such proof, will seldom ask for better grounds of confidence; for such errors in matters of fact as a thoroughly honest historian may be liable to, will seldom be of vital importance. Even if no such proof of a writer’s personal integrity exists, and if the circumstances of his life are altogether unknown, yet almost every writer leaves in his works sufficient indications of his moral dispositions. The characteristics of honesty are distinct enough to secure the confidence of candid minds; nor can an instance be adduced in which they have been so successfully counterfeited as to have stood the test of time. A perverse intention as certainly betrays itself in writing, as it does in personal behaviour. Nevertheless this sort of evidence, though it will be more satisfactory than any other to one reader, may be unperceived by another; for cold, feeble, and suspicious minds are destitute of the sympathies to which it appeals.

If the proofs of integrity and veracity in an historian are wanting, or are thought to be insufficient, we must descend to that sort of evidence which his works afford relative to his intellectual qualifications; and these may be such as fully to warrant a general confidence in his preference of truth to falsehood. As to the strongest minds, such minds attach themselves to truth by an instinctive movement: to acquire the knowledge of facts is their characteristic passion;—to promulgate this knowledge is the function they feel themselves born to fulfill. Nor can it happen that the falsification of facts—in which neither personal interests nor prejudices are involved—should present an adequate inducement to writers whose powers of narration enable them to command more attention in the direct paths of truth and reality, than they could hope to gain in the regions of fiction. Every gifted mind has its sphere; and there is a native talent for history, as well as a genius for poetry; and he who possesses eminently the former, will as certainly make himself conversant with realities, as he who may boast the possession of the latter will choose to live among the creations of fancy.

If therefore an historical work displays a healthy vigour of intellect—good sense—elevation of sentiment, and the specific talent for narration, these qualities may safely be held to afford a strong presumptive proof of the author’s veracity, even though there should be no direct means of ascertaining his moral dispositions, or his integrity. Those writers who occupy a first rank among ancient historians may therefore safely be held to possess this presumptive proof of their veracity; for the reputation they have so long enjoyed is attributable, quite as much to their talent for narration, as to the interest or importance of the story that forms the subject of their works. These intrinsic merits contain, then, a tacit guarantee for the authenticity of the works that are thus adorned.

On this ground, the good sense, the simplicity, the ease, and the accuracy of Herodotus—the stern vigour, the elevation, and the dignity of Thucydides, the graceful simplicity of Xenophon, and the philosophic terseness of Tacitus, not only win the admiration of the reader, but, in different degrees, these qualities invite, or demand, his confidence.

There are moreover qualities of style which, though they may not entitle an author to a place in the first rank of writers, must secure for him a high regard as an authentic historian. Indeed, in this department of literature, those less brilliant and less attractive qualities which give security as to an historian’s diligence, accuracy, and impartiality, may well be accepted in place of the brighter recommendations of genius, or eloquence, or powers of description. There is a specific taste for details, there is a passion for laborious researches, there is a superstitious regard to exactness, and an indefatigable industry, which, though they may tire the reader who seeks only for amusement, will secure the confidence and attention of the intelligent student of history. Thus, for example, the assiduity of Diodorus the Sicilian, the accuracy and good sense of Polybius, and the minuteness and amplification of Dionysius the Halicarnassian, give to their works a substantial value which goes far to compensate for the want of more shining excellences.