aroused the memory of Man for its preservation;—now, for the first time, could History, properly so called, have a beginning; for it can do no more than collect in the shape of facts, and by means of mere Empiricism, that gradual civilization of the Actual Human Race of History which is produced by the admixture of the original Culture with the original Barbarism. In this province, for the first time, the historical Art, the fundamental principle of which we have stated above, comes into play for the discovery and collection of facts; and to enable us to comprehend clearly and completely the actual condition of the Present Time, particularly in so far as it may lead us to the discovery of previous facts, as well as to perceive distinctly under the condition of what earlier facts alone the present can be understood. It is here particularly necessary to dismiss altogether the delusive notion of probability which, taking its rise in a feeble Philosophy, has thence spread over every other science, and especially has found a secure refuge in History. The Probable, because it is only probable, is for that very reason not true;—and why should we concede any place whatever in Science to the untrue? Strictly speaking, the Probable is what would be true if such and such principles, evidences, and facts which are awanting, could be produced. If we are of opinion that these absent proofs may be recovered, perhaps by the discovery of lost documents, or the digging up of hidden volumes, we may then properly enough note down these probabilities, so that their substance may not be lost, distinguishing them by this mark,—mere probabilities, accompanied with a notice of what is requisite to establish their truth; but we must by no means fill up the gap between them and Truth by our own too easy belief, and by the desire to prove an hypothesis which we, as Historians, choose to advance a priori.
