of Brute, Alexander, Charlemagne, and the rest. Let it be observed that all these stories are of a similar cast; the Lives of the Saints, somehow or other, are always connected with the fictions of every hero of chivalry. They invariably work marvels in behalf of their votaries; they bequeath relics of surprising power—or they appear in dreams; or the utterance of their mighty names counteracts the potency of magical delusions, &c., &c., while the hero himself, treading in the steps of his canonized precursor, becomes a distinguished religieux; and at last takes his place in the calendar—"a very, very Saint."
If my hypothesis, therefore, be just, with the return of the exiled Christians from the East originated romantic fiction in Europe. But this, of course, must be taken with modifications. Time alone could mature what in its progress acquired such extensive popularity; and it seems to me one of the glaring defects of other systems, that they would represent the rise of that particular kind of fable in question to have been almost instantaneous: to have followed swift upon the incursions of the Saracens—to have sprung up mysteriously among the Scandinavians, or equally, if not more so, among the Armoricans. Whereas that which was so wide in its extent—so singular in its effects—so deeply impressed on a large portion of the globe, must inevitably have had a beginning and a middle: it must have been long crescent, before it was at the full. It is true the classical system has not all the objections which meet the other, on the score of precipitancy; but still it accounts only for that part of romance which is evidently built upon classic ground. Much of the machinery is wholly different; and from the comparatively few allusions—from the indistinct and monstrous perversions of Grecian or Roman fable, we are sure that their knowledge was very limited. But, in fact, a union of classic traditions with oriental fiction is not only probable but certain; yet my hypothesis still traces it to the East.[1] For it will be noticed, that Eastern conceptions invariably predominate, even where the subject is confessedly classic; as in the stories of Alexander, Caesar, and others. Besides, the incursions of these leaders into that quarter of the world might, as it has happened
- ↑ The process by which Ulysses preserved himself from the charms of Circe is very similar to that which occurs in the story of "Beder Prince of Persia, and Giohaure Princess of Samandal," in the Arabian Tales; and the fable of the Cyclops is found in the third voyage of Sinbad the Sailor. But Homer is known to have been a great wanderer, and to have picked up much traditionary matter in the East and elsewhere. Speaking of the fable of Atalanta, Warton has observed (Diss. on the Gest. Rom. v. 3) that "It is not impossible that an oriental apologue might have given rise to the Grecian fable." This, I am inclined to think, has often been the case.
