ultimate link in the chain of evidence, without which the existence of the work itself, in the times to which it refers, and the general credit attached to its fidelity by those, who had opportunities of judgment unknown to ourselves -the first a very material-and the other a still more valuable confirmation-are but detached, though determinative probabilities. That, which gives coherency to the whole, brings us, as it were in contact with the narrated circumstances, and converts probability into a practical certainty, is some ascertained voucher of honesty and truth; of the upright intention of the writer to relate what he knew; beyond his mere ability of knowing whether what he related were true or false.

Now we have, it appears, one of these very vouchers in the passage selected as the subject of this Essay. The transaction presented an occasion calculated to put the fidelity of the Historian to the test: nor is the candour evinced in his report materially, if at all, affected, either by the probable notoriety of the occurrence at the time, or any vindication of the Gospel from objections apparently derivable from it. It is true that the publicity of a fact may oblige a writer to notice it in the course of a regular and methodical history. But the work before us does not contain such a history.

C

On the contrary, there are many circumstances omitted altogether, and those by no means of an uninteresting nature, which we learn elsewhere to have taken place, and which must have been generally known when these annals were compiled. It is obvious therefore that the writer did not deem himself under any obligation to report circumstantially all that related to the Church. But, let us even suppose that the event before us was of such a nature as rendered its insertion necessary— and there is every probability that it was notorious enough-yet, if by candour in an historian be meant the relation of facts, as they really occur, without partiality, concealment or evasion, it is plain that this quality may be put to the test by an event that is already known, and perhaps to a test more trying and severe by one that admits, than by one that precludes explanation. The publicity of the event suggests the need of explanation, and the very ease, with which it may be given, is to an interested writer the strongest temptation to disingenuousness and fraud. Let it be granted, therefore, that the bare relation of a well known fact be in itself no proof of an historian's candour; there is still in the manner in which he does relate it-the terms in which he clothes it-the character and

bearing he contrives to give it the remarks he does, or does not offer respecting it— there is in all these abundant room for the trial of candour, and the display of truth. Now a dispute between two of the most distinguished advocates of Christianity; a dispute that dissolved, suddenly, and irrevocably, an association so peculiar as theirs had been, a dispute, moreover, so inconsistent with the principles they proclaimed, and the mild and holy precepts they inculcated on others, was an event whose aspect in the world at large could not but be unfavourable to the Christian cause. Whatever may have been its general publicity, it admitted, as we have already seen, an explanation wholly exculpatory of the institution. It admitted of some extenuation as regards the conduct of the Apostles themselves. It admitted of being almost explained away by an artful apologist. The slightest alteration in the expression would have given it another character, or have thrown over the passage so convenient an ambiguity as might have shielded the historian from contemporaneous reproach, and the institution from the cavils of after ages.

What then was done in the record before us? The transaction was neither concealed, nor garbled, nor palliated by a single qualifying

word. It was exhibited in all the simplicity of truth. It was related, though briefly, with an air of perfect integrity, and the appearance of such a confidence in the general cause, or such a singleness of attention to the duty of an annalist, as prevented all regard to abuse or misconception.

It is not perhaps easy to estimate the force of this consideration. Accustomed, as we have long been, to receive these accounts as authentic, and to repose an implicit confidence in the veracity of their authors, we speak of the candour of the sacred historians, as if it related only to the extent of what they have bequeathed us, and not to the truth of the documents themselves. If we dismiss, however, as much as possible these natural prepossessions, and enter into the circumstances under which the histories were composed: if we bear in mind the ignorance, the prejudice, the obstinacy, and the violence with which the Christian institution had to contend-the mistaken opinions entertained by many of its friends as to some of its sublime and unsearchable mysteries; and the virulent artifices of its foes in impugning its doctrines, and calumniating its members; we shall be able to form some notion of that integrity which could withhold its annalist from qualifying his reports-from

excluding the narration of unfavorable circumstances, whenever these could be excluded without detection, or inserting them, if notorious, in such a manner as would obviate objections arising from them.

If then the Christian religion be true, all this, so far from being strange in the conduct of the historian, was to be expected in consequence of his connection with it: but if false, it constitutes one of those insoluble phenomena which tempt the credulity of confirmed scepticism. To say that these assumed concessions to candour did not really affect the truth of the system, or materially weaken its credit in the world, is to look on the cause in the hour of its triumph, and not through the stormy atmosphere, which then enveloped it. To say that the writer was artful and designing, is to deny the import of his whole production. The narrative exhibits, as plainly, it should seem, as language can do, the composition of a person well informed, yet of great simplicity-alive to the importance of the subject on which he wrote, yet of extreme moderation, temper, and good sense-reporting the progress of the Christian cause with the fullest conviction that nothing beyond a faithful statement could be ultimately needful to its success-scrupulously exact in the representation of all that is embraced in his