dentally, brought forward; but they are points essentially requisite in every legitimate historian. Here, however, it must be admitted, that in the volume before us, a considerable portion of the marvellous prevails; and though, perhaps, by many readers, these will be considered as among the most curious parts of the work, yet it may be objected, that the numerous miraculous tales detract, in some measure, from that soundness of judgment which has been ascribed to our author. But it should be carefully recollected, that it became necessary to conform, in some degree, to the general taste of the readers of those days, the bulk of whom derived their principal amusement from the lives of saints, and from their miracles, in which they piously believed: besides, no one ever thought of impeaching the judgment of Livy, or of any other historian of credit, for insertions of a similar nature. Even in these relations, however, Malmesbury is careful that his own veracity shall not be impeached; constantly observing, that the truth of the story must rest on the credit of his authors; and, indeed, they are always so completely separable from the main narrative, that there is no danger of mistaking the legend for history.
Having thus noticed the multifarious topics embraced by Malmesbury, it may be necessary to advert to his style: although, after what has been premised, it might seem almost superfluous to add, that it admits nearly of as much variety as his facts. This probably arises from that undeviating principle which he appears to have laid down, that his chief efforts should be exerted to give pleasure to his readers; in imitation of the rhetoricians, whose first object was to make their audience kindly disposed, next attentive, and finally anxious to receive instruction.[1] Of his style, therefore, generally speaking, it may not be easy to give a perfect description. To say to which Roman author it bears the nearest resemblance, when he imitated almost every one of them, from Sallust to Eutropius, would be rash indeed. How shall we bind this classical Proteus, who occasionally assumes the semblance of Persius, Juvenal, Horace, Lucan, Virgil, Lucretius; and who never appears in his proper shape so long as he can seize the form of an ancient classic?[2]
