But as to these supposed interpolations, it was not formal sentences, or distinct paragraphs—wedged in where they seem to have little fitness, but citations or allusions of an incidental kind, proper to the connexion in which they occur, and perfectly congruous with the text.
Let it next be supposed that the genuine History of Herodotus—referred to as we have seen by earlier writers, had perished, or was supposed to have perished, about the seventh century; and that some writer of the ninth century composed a work which should pass in the world for the genuine History. Now, to effect this, he must have had in his memory, as he went along, the entire body of ancient literature, both Greek and Roman; or otherwise he could not have worked up all the references and quotations of earlier authors, so as to make them tally, as we find they do, with his spurious production: and if any of these authors were unknown to him, or forgotten, then we should find discrepant quotations that could not be verified. Moreover, as the genuine work was certainly in existence and widely diffused in the sixth century, no writer wishing to make such an attempt could think himself secure against the existence of some copies of the genuine work, which, if brought to light, would at once expose his own to contempt.
Or if a forgery had been attempted at a time nearer to that of the alleged author, then, in proportion as we recede from difficulties of one kind, we run upon those of another kind. For if, to avoid the absurdity of supposing that a huge mass of books, scattered through many and distant countries, were at once called in, and re-issued with the requisite interpolations, we imagine that the work was forged at an earlier time, when fewer testimonies needed to have been foisted into existing books; then we come to a period when learning was at its height—at Alexandria—throughout Greece, and its colonies—when every fact connected with the history of books was familiarly known; when many large libraries existed—when, therefore, no standard work could disappear, or could be supplanted by a spurious one; much less could a work which had never before been heard of, create to itself the credit of a book long and familiarly known: how could the learned in the east and the west be persuaded that a work, newly produced, had been in their libraries for a hundred years? Though the knowledge of books is more widely diffused in modern, than it was in ancient times, yet among those who addict themselves to literature, there is not now more of erudition, of intelligence, of discrimination, than were displayed in the three or four centuries of which the Augustan age formed the centre. To issue a voluminous history, and to persuade the world that it had been known during the last two hundred years, is an attempt not more impracticable in the present day, than it would have been in the times of Dionysius, of Cicero, of Quintilian, or of Plutarch.
If we carry our supposition still higher, that is to say, till we get free from all the difficulties above-mentioned, then we gain nothing. The fact principally important as an historical question is granted, namely, that the History was actually extant at, or very near the time, commonly supposed; and then the only point in dispute is the bare name of the author, which, so far as the truth of the history is involved, is a question of inferior consequence. Yet let us pursue this doubt a step further;—If Herodotus, the Halicarnassian, were a real person, known in his time as a writer, then some self-denying forger made over to this Herodotus all the glory of being the author of so admirable a work; and this Herodotus accepted the generous fraud, and acted his part to give it credit. But if the name and designation be altogether fictitious—the real author concealing himself; then how happened it that the Greeks of that age should speak of Herodotus as of a real person whom they had known, honoured and rewarded? In preference to any such impracticable hypothesis, who would not rather accept as true the affirmation which the work bears upon its front?
But now we take up another supposition. After tracing as we have done, the history of the work in question, up through a continued series of quotations, in the Greek and Latin writers, and obtaining by that means a conclusive proof of its antiquity, we may imagine that there is in existence a Persian translation of the History of Herodotus, which, by the peculiarities of its style, as well as by external evidence, is ascertained to have been executed in the time of Artaxerxes. Another translation of the same work is then brought forward in the language of ancient Carthage, which, except in this (supposed) translation, has been long extinct. And there is another in the Coptic, or ancient language of Egypt; and another in the Latin, of the time of Plautus and Terence. If these several translations had each descended to modern times, through some independent channel, and if each possessed a separate mass of evidence in proof of its antiquity; and if, when collated among themselves, and with the Greek original, they were found to harmonize, except in those variations which must always belong to a translation; then, and in such a case, we should possess an instance of that sort of redundant demonstration which in fact does belong in full to the Jewish and Christian Scriptures; but to no other writings whatever.
Let it now be granted as possible that a writer of a later age, who was a perfect master of the Greek language, who possessed an endless fund of various learning, and who was gifted in a high degree with the imitative faculty, might produce nine books like those of Herodotus, which, supposing there were no external evidence to contradict the fraud, might pass as genuine. To affirm that a forgery such as this is possible, is to allow the utmost that our knowledge of the powers of the human mind will permit to be granted; and much more than the history of literary forgeries will warrant us to suppose: for all the attempts of that sort that have been detected, either abound with manifest incongruities; or if executed by men of learning and ability, they have been formed upon a small scale, and have excluded, as far as possible, all exact references to particular facts.
But the work before us is of great extent; its allusions to particular facts are innumerable, precise, and incautious; its style and dialect are proper to the age to which it pretends:—in a word, it is in every respect what a genuine production of that age ought to be. If then it were to be judged of, on the ground of internal evidence alone, no scholar could for a moment hesitate to decide in favour of its genuineness. The reader will recollect that the supposition of a forgery in a later age is excluded by the evidence already adduced in this chapter.
CHAPTER XVIII.
METHOD OF ARGUING FROM THE GENUINENESS, TO THE AUTHENTICITY OF THE HISTORY OF HERODOTUS.
That the Greek text of Herodotus, such as it now appears—small verbal variations only excepted, was extant and well known in Greece, at least as early as the commencement of the Peloponnesian war (B.C. 431), is the conclusion that is warranted by the evidence already adduced. It now remains to inquire how far this proof of the antiquity and genuineness of the work carries with it a proof of the general truth of the History.
In a civilized community, where a free expression of opinion is allowed, and where opposing interests actually exist, a writer, who professes to compile an authentic account of transactions that are still fresh in the recollection of the people, can move only within certain limits, even if he might wish to misrepresent facts.—Circumstances, known only to a few, may be falsified—motives may be maligned—actions may be exaggerated—wrongs and sufferings may be coloured by rhetorical declamation—fair characters may be defamed, and foul ones eulogised:—these are nearly the boundaries of falsification. But if personages altogether fictitious are made the heroes of the story—if invasions, battles, sieges, conspiracies, are described which never happened—if, in a word, the entire narrative is a fiction, then it ranks in a different class of productions, nor could it ever gain credit as an authentic account of real and recent events. The same evidence, therefore, which establishes the existence of an historical work at a time near to that of the events it records, establishes also the general authenticity of the narrative;—for the work is not only mentioned by contemporary writers, but it is mentioned as a history. This character granted to the book by the author’s contemporaries contains, by condensation, the suffrages of the whole community. In substance, we hear the people of Greece assenting to the historian in relation to those principal portions of his narrative, at least, of which they were qualified to form an opinion, and relative to which no writer would attempt to deceive them.