Grecian writers; whose elegance of taste, harmony
of language, and fine arrangement of ideas, have
captivated the imagination, misled the judgment,
and stamped with the dignified title of history, the
amusing excursions of fanciful romance. Too
proud to consider surrounding nations, (if the Eyptians
may be excepted) in any light but that of
barbarians; they despised their records, they altered
their language, and framed too often their
details, more to the prejudices of their fellow citizens,
than to the standard of truth or probability.
We have names of Persian kings, which a Persian
could not pronounce; we have facts related they
apparently never knew; and we have customs
ascribed to them, which contradict every distinguishing
characteristic of an Eastern people. The
story of Lysimachus and one Greek historian may
indeed, with justice, be applied to many others.
This prince, in the partition of Alexander's empire,
became King of Thrace: he had been one of the
most active of that conqueror's commanders; and
was present at every event which deserved the
attention of history. A Grecian had written an
account of the Persian conquest; and be wished to
read it before the king. The monarch listened
with equal attention and wonder: 'All this is very
fine,' says he, when the historian had finished,
'but where was I when those things were performed?' "