the close of the eighteenth century, abandoned poetry for history. From 1802 until his death a quarter of a century later, he labored on his twelvevolume History of the Russian State, which remained the authoritative study of the subject for many years to come. Alexander Pushkin, who had established himself as Russia's foremost poetic talent by the time the final volumes of Karamzin's History were being published, undertook intensive historical research during the last decade of his brief life. His two-volume History of the Pugatchov Rebellion, extensive work on an unfinished History of Peter the Great, and numerous other, purely historical studies figure importantly in his late work. And many other, less famous Russian poets of this era were historians as well. The close relationship between poetry and history (and vice versa) is a striking characteristic of the times-and not only in Russia. If we wonder why poets are drawn to history, we may turn to Karamzin's Preface to his History where he mentions two important points: (1) what has really happened can provide effects the poet can exploit; (2) there is poetic charm in what is temporally remote. Although these factors usually appear together, they are to an extent contrary, since the charm of what is remote in time lies in the freedom of scope it allows the imagination of both the poet and his audience, while the use of historical material forces the poet to abide by certain facts. But his voluntary acceptance of these facts offers him important advantages, not unlike those enjoyed earlier by poets working with myth. (1) Like myth, history is felt to be authentic and significant, and lends the poetic presentation something like improved ontological status. (2) Like myth, history is felt to transcend the individual and bind everyone-whether as general history of humanity or as history of a nation, which includes and impels all its members. (3) Like myth (and later mythology), history deals in what is known to all. Utilizing it, the poet may presuppose an acquaintance with much of his material in his readers or spectators. In drama, for instance, this facilitates the exposition, and predetermines the conclusion from the start, creating certain expectations and attitudes. Naturally this third point will only be fully realized if the audience really does know the facts of the historical events at hand. For the general audience in Russia, this condition was not met until Karamzin