Dr Thirlwall wrote his history in one of those
_transition states_ of mind which render impossible the accomplishment
of an enduring work. He saw the futility of much that had been relied on
as basis of historical belief; he was not disposed to credulity, nor at
all likely to accept fable, in its own simple and gross form, for truth.
But he had not taught himself to forego the vain attempt to extract
history out of fable; he could not relinquish that habit of "learned
conjecture," so dear to the scholar, so fatal to the historian. In the
earlier portion of his work, he constructs his narrative under the
singular disadvantage of one who sees perpetually the weakness of his
own superstructure, yet continues to build on; and thus, with much show
of scaffolding, and after much putting up and pulling down, he leaves at
last but little standing on the soil. He had not laid down for himself a
previous rule for determining what should be admitted as historical
evidence, or the rules he had prescribed for himself were of an
uncertain, fluctuating character. Neither do we discover in Dr Thirlwall
the faculty, existing at least in any eminent degree, of realising to
himself, or vividly representing to others, the intellectual condition
of a nascent people, far removed from ourselves in habits of thought,
and trained under quite different institutions, religious and political.
In short, we note a deficiency--(to adopt the phraseology of Bacon)--in
what we may be allowed to describe, as the more philosophical
qualifications of the historian.

Precisely in these lies the peculiar strength of Mr Grote. With
scholarship as extensive as that of his predecessors, he has united a
stricter discipline of mind, and habits of closer reasoning; and he
manifests a truer perception of the nature of past modes of thinking--of
the intellectual life of unlettered and Pagan ages. He has passed
through that _transition state_ in which Dr Thirlwall unfortunately
found himself, and has drawn with a firm hand the boundaries between
history and fable. Not only has he drawn the line, and determined the
principle on which the limits of the historical world should be marked
out, but he has had the fortitude to adhere to his own principles, and
has not allowed himself, in pursuit of some fragment of historic truth,
(many of which doubtless lie in a half-discovered state beyond the
circle he has drawn,) to transgress the boundary he has wisely
prescribed to