the subject of some picturesque
and romantic story. In a word, nature was not explored then as now,
for the purpose of ascertaining and recording cold and scientific
realities,--but to be admired, and embellished, and animated;--and to
be peopled, everywhere, with exquisitely beautiful, though imaginary
and supernatural, life and action.

What the genius of imagination and romance did thus in ancient times
with the scenery of nature, it did also on the field of history. Men
explored that field not at all to learn sober and actual realities,
but to find something that they might embellish and adorn, and animate
with supernatural and marvelous life. What the sober realities might
have actually been, was of no interest or moment to them whatever.
There were no scholars then as now, living in the midst of libraries,
and finding constant employment, and a never-ending pleasure, in
researches for the simple investigation of the truth. There was in
fact no retirement, no seclusion, no study. Every thing except what
related to the mere daily toil of tilling the ground bore direct
relation to military expeditions, spectacles and parades; and the only
field for the exercise of that kind of intellectual ability which is
employed in modern times in investigating and recording historic
truth, was the invention and recitation of poems, dramas and tales, to
amuse great military audiences in camps or public gatherings, convened
to witness shows or games, or to celebrate great religious festivals.
Of course under such circumstances there would be no interest felt in
truth as truth. Romance and fable would be far more serviceable for
such ends than reality.

Still it is obvious that such tales as were invented to amuse for the
purposes we have described, would have a deeper interest for those who
listened to them, if founded in some measure upon fact, and connected
in respect to the scene of their occurrence, with real localities. A
prince and his court sitting at their tables in the palace or the
tent, at the close of a feast, would listen with greater interest to a
story that purported to be an account of the deeds and the marvelous
adventures of their own ancestors, than to one that was wholly and
avowedly imaginary. The inventors of these tales would of course
generally choose such subjects, and their narrations would generally
consist therefore rather of embellishments of actual transactions,
than of inventions wholly original. Th