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to know. His mind works from the known towards the unknown by varied processes. He reasons. He traces analogies. He imagines. He adds surmises to his certainties. And after a while one is puzzled to know how much of his story is dream-stuff, and how much the substance out of which true history is made.
But thus it has always been. Homer's poems are to such a degree the product of his own fertile and splendid fancy, and of the myths which he found afloat in the air of the old world he lived in, that people forgot how much reality had place in the works of his genius. When Schliemann began to unearth the facts of marble, bronze, and gold long buried in Greece and Asia Minor, everybody was surprised to find so much in the Iliad and the Odyssey that may be called history.
Sir Walter Scott has put his own dream power into the ancient times of which he wrote. One who reads him needs a well-schooled critic and interpreter at hand to distinguish between the historical facts
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