History, in its original state, was confined to narrative; the reader being left to form his own reflections on the deeds or events recorded. The historic art, however, conveys not complete satisfaction, unless these actions be connected with their causes,—the political springs, or private passions, in which they originated. It is the business, therefore, of the historian, to apply the conclusions of the politician in explaining the causes and effects of the transactions he relates. These transactions the author must receive from authentic monuments or records, but the remarks deduced from them must be the offspring of his own ingenuity. The reflections with which Sallust introduces his narrative, and those he draws from it, are so just and numerous that he has by some been considered as the father of philosophic history. It must always, however, be remembered, that the proper object of history is the detail of national transactions,—that whatever forms not a part of the narrative is episodical, and therefore improper, if it be too long, and do not grow naturally out of the subject. Now, some of the political and moral digressions of Sallust are neither very immediately connected with his subject, nor very obviously suggested by the narration. The discursive nature and inordinate length of the introductions to his histories have been strongly censured. The first four sections of Catiline’s conspiracy have indeed little relation to that topic. They might as well have been prefixed to any other history, and much better to a moral or philosophic treatise. In fact, a considerable part of them, descanting on the fleeting nature of wealth and beauty, and all such adventitious or transitory possessions, is borrowed from the second oration of Isocrates. Perhaps the eight following sections are also disproportioned to the length of the whole work; but the preliminary essay they contain, on the degradation of Roman manners and decline of virtue, is not an unsuitable introduction to the conspiracy, as it was this corruption of morals which gave birth to it, and bestowed on it a chance of success. The preface to the Jugurthine War has much less relation to the subject which it is intended to introduce. The author discourses at large on his favourite topics the superiority of mental endowments over corporeal advantages, and the beauty of virtue and genius. He contrasts a life of listless indolence with one of honourable activity; and, finally, descants on the task of the historian as a suitable exercise for the highest faculties of the mind.