facts of life cannot be tabulated with as great an ease as the
colours of birds and insects can be tabulated. Now, Polybius
points out that those phenomena particularly are to be dwelt on
which may serve as a [Greek text which cannot be reproduced] or
sample, and show the character of the tendencies of the age as
clearly as 'a single drop from a full cask will be enough to
disclose the nature of the whole contents.' This recognition of
the importance of single facts, not in themselves but because of
the spirit they represent, is extremely scientific; for we know
that from the single bone, or tooth even, the anatomist can
recreate entirely the skeleton of the primeval horse, and the
botanist tell the character of the flora and fauna of a district
from a single specimen.

Regarding truth as 'the most divine thing in Nature,' the very 'eye
and light of history without which it moves a blind thing,'
Polybius spared no pains in the acquisition of historical materials
or in the study of the sciences of politics and war, which he
considered were so essential to the training of the scientific
historian, and the labour he took is mirrored in the many ways in
which he criticises other authorities.

There is something, as a rule, slightly contemptible about ancient
criticism. The modern idea of the critic as the interpreter, the
expounder of the beauty and excellence of the work he selects,
seems quite unknown. Nothing can be more captious or unfair, for
instance, than the method by which Aristotle criticised the ideal
state of Plato in his ethical works, and the passages quoted by
Polybius from Timaeus show that the latter historian fully deserved
the punning name given to him. But in Polybius there is, I think,