dwelt, lived, and died with them,—a value increasing through the course of ages, in a regular progression, rising as it removes from the objects to which it refers. But the very course of this progression implies a diminution of the means of obtaining the desired information, proportioned to the increase of the demand for it;—and along with this condition of things, the all-pervading and ever-active spirit of invention comes in, to quench, with deep draughts of delightful falsehood, the honest thirst for literal truth. The misfortune of this constitution of circumstances, being that the want is not felt till the means of supplying it are irrecoverably gone, puts the investigation of the minutiae of all antiquity, sacred or profane, upon a very uncertain ground, and requires the most critical test for every assertion, offered to satisfy a curiosity which, for the sake of the pleasure thus derived, feels interested in deceiving itself; for
"Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated as to cheat."
Even the spirit of deep curiosity which beguiles the historical inquirer into a love of the fabulous and unfounded tales of tradition, though specifically more elevated by its intellectual character, is yet generically the same with the spirit of superstitious credulity, that leads the miserable Papist to bow down with idolatrous worship before the ridiculous trash, called relics, which are presented to him by the consecrated impostors who minister to him in holy things; and the feeling of indignant horror with which he repulses the Protestant zeal, that would rob his spirit of the comfortable support afforded by the possession of an apostolical toe-nail, a lock of a saint's hair, or by the sight of the Savior's handkerchief, or of a drop of his blood,—is all perfectly kindred to that indignant regret with which even a reformed reader regards all these critical assaults upon agreeable historical delusions,—and to that stubborn attachment with which he often clings to antique falsehood. Yet the pure consolations of the truth, known by research and judgment, are so far above these baser enjoyments, that the exchange of fiction, for historical knowledge, though merely of a negative kind, becomes most desirable even to an uncritical mind.
The sweeping sentence of condemnation against all traditionary stories, may, however, be subjected to some decided exceptions in the case of John, who, living much longer than any other of the apostles, would thus be much more widely and lastingly
