I. Original History. 
  II.  Reflective History. 
 III.  Philosophical History.

I. Of the first kind, the mention of one or two distinguished names will furnish a definite type.  To this category belong Herodotus, Thucydides, and other historians of the same order, whose descriptions are for the most part limited to deeds, events, and states of society, which they had before their eyes and whose spirit they shared.  They simply transferred what was passing in the world around them to the realm of re-presentative intellect; an external phenomenon was thus translated into an internal conception.  In the same way the poet operates upon the material supplied him by his emotions, projecting it into an image for the conceptive faculty.

These original historians did, it is true, find statements and narratives of other men ready to hand; one person cannot be an eye-and-ear witness of everything.  But, merely as an ingredient, they make use only of such aids as the poet does of that heritage of an already-formed language to which he owes so much; historiographers bind together the fleeting elements of story, and treasure them up for immortality in the temple of Mnemosyne.  Legends, ballad-stories, and traditions must be excluded from such original history; they are but dim and hazy forms of historical apprehension, and therefore belong to nations whose intelligence is but half awakened.  Here, on the contrary, we have to do with people fully conscious of what they were and what they were about.  The domain of reality—­actually seen, or capable of being so-affords a very different basis in point of firmness from that fugitive and shadowy element in which were engendered those legends and poetic dreams whose historical prestige vanishes as soon as nations have attained a mature individuality.

Such original historians, then, change the events, the deeds, and the states of society with which they are conversant, into an object for the conceptive faculty; the narratives they leave us cannot, therefore, be very comprehensive in their range.  Herodotus, Thucydides, Guicciardini, may be taken as fair samples of the class in this respect.  What is present and living in their environment is their proper material.  The influences that have formed the writer are identical with those which have molded the events that constitute the matter of his story.  The author’s spirit and that of the actions he narrates are one and the same.  He describes scenes in which he himself has been an actor, or at any rate an interested spectator.  It is short periods of time, individual shapes of persons and occurrences, single, unreflected traits, of which he makes his picture.  And his aim is nothing more than the presentation to posterity of an image of events as clear as that which he himself possessed in virtue of personal observation, or lifelike descriptions.  Reflections are none of his business, for he lives in the spirit of his subject; he has not attained an elevation above it.  If, as in Caesar’s case, he belongs to the exalted rank of generals or statesmen, it is the prosecution of his own aims that constitutes the history.