Milton has not lost it even in recording the events of heaven and earth. Look at Nature; every leaf, every pebble, every cliff, every blade of grass, in the most extensive scene is finished with that perfection that characterises all her works; yet what majesty and generality of effect in the mighty whole! That is the model of historical composition every object should be worked out, nothing omitted, nothing carelessly touched; but a bright light should be thrown only on the brilliant events, the momentous changes; whole generations and centuries of monotonous events cast into the shade, that is, slightly and rapidly passed over; and the most sedulous care taken to classify events into periods, in such a way as to form so many cells, as it were, in the memory of the reader, wherein to deposit the store of information afforded in regard to each.

There is, in truth, only one really great style in history, as there is in poetry, painting, or music. Superficial observers speak of a new school of history, or a new mode of treating human affairs, as they would of a new plant or a new opera they might as well speak of a new style in sculpture or painting, in mathematics or astronomy, in epic or dramatic poetry. We should like to see any one who would improve on the style of Phidias and Raphael, of Homer and Virgil, of Tasso and Milton, of Sophocles or Racine. In inferior styles, indeed, there is a very great variety in this, as there is in all the other Fine Arts; but in the highest walks there is but one. The principles of the whole are the same; and those principles are to produce generality of effect out of specialty of objects; to unite fidelity of drawing with brilliancy of imagination. Observe with what exquisite skill Tasso works this uniform impression out of the varied events of his Jerusalem Delivered; therein lies his vast superiority to the endless adventures of the more brilliant and imaginative Ariosto. The principles which regulated the composition of the Prometheus Vinctus of Eschylus and the Hamlet of Shakspeare are the same: the Odes of Pindar are the counterparts of those of Gray; the sculpture of Phidias and the painting of Raphael are nothing but the same mind working with different materials. The composition of Gibbon is directed by exactly the same principles as the sunsets of Claude; the battle-pieces of

Napier and the banditti of Salvator are fac-similes of each other; the episodes of Livy and the Good Shepherds of Murillo produce the same emotions in the breast. Superficial readers will deride these observations, and ask, what has painting external objects to do with the narration of human events? We would recommend them to spend twenty years in the study of either, and they will be at no loss to discover in what their analogy consists.

On this account, we cannot admit that history is necessarily drier or less interesting than poetry or romance. True, it must give a faithful record of events; true, unless it does so, it loses its peculiar and highest usefulness; but are we to be told that reality is less attractive than fiction? Are feigned distresses less poignant than real ones-imaginary virtues less ennobling than actual? The advantage of fiction consists in the narrower compass which it embraces, and, consequently, the superior interest which it can communicate by working up the characters, events, and scenes. That, doubtless, is a great advantage; but is it beyond the reach of history? May not the leading characters and events there be delineated with the same force, brilliancy, and fidelity to nature? Has it not the additional source of interest arising from the events being real?—an interest which all who tell stories to children will see exemplified in their constant question, "Is it true?" None can see more

strongly than we do, that the highest aim and first duty of history is not to amuse, but to instruct the world: and that mere amusement or interest are of very secondary importance. But is amusement irreconcilable with instruction -interest with elevation? Is not truth best conveyed when it is clothed in an attractive garb? Is not the greatest danger which it runs that of being superseded by attractive fiction ? How many readers are familiar with English history through Shakspeare and Scott, rather than Hume and Lingard! That illustrates the risk of leaving truth to its unadorned resources. Was it not in parables that Supreme Wisdom communicated itself to mankind? The wise man will never disdain the aid even of imagination and fancy in communicating instruction. Recollect the words of Napoleon-" C'est l'imagination qui domine le monde."

We have been insensibly led into these remarks by

observing in what manner Sismondi, Thierry, Barante, Michelet, and indeed all the writers of the antiquarian and graphic school, have treated the history of France. They are all men of powerful talent, brilliant imagination, unbounded research, and philosophic minds: their histories are so superior to any which preceded them, that, in reading them, we appear to be entering upon a new and hitherto unknown world. But it is in the very richness of their materials-the extent of their learning-the vast stores of original ideas and authority they have brought to bear on the annals of the monarchy of Clovis-that we discern the principal defect of their compositions. They have been wellnigh overwhelmed by the treasures which they themselves have dug up. So vast is the mass of original documents which they have consulted-of details and facts which they have brought to light—that they have too often lost sight of the first rule in the art of history-unity of composition. They have forgotten the necessity of a distinct separation of events in such a manner as to impress the general course of time upon the mind of their readers. They are accurate, graphic, minute in details; but the tout ensemble is too often forgotten, and the Temple of History made up rather of a chaos of old marbles dug up from the earth, and piled on each other without either order or symmetry, than of the majestic proportions and colossal masses of the Pantheon or St Peter's.

The annals of no country are more distinctly separated into periods than those of France: in none has the course of events more clearly pointed out certain resting-places, at which the historian may pause to show the progress of civilisation and the growth of the nation. The first origin of the Gauls, and their social organisation, before the conquest of the Romans-their institutions under those mighty conquerors, and the vast impress which their wisdom and experience, not less than their oppression and despotism, communicated to their character and habitsthe causes which led to the decay of the empire of the Cæsars, and let in the barbarians as deliverers rather than enemies into its vast provinces-the establishment of the monarchy of Clovis by these rude conquerors, and its gradual extension from the Rhine to the Pyrenees-the

decay of the Merovingian dynasty, and the prostration of government under the Rois Fainéants-the rise of the Maires du Palais, and their final establishment on the throne by the genius of Charlemagne-the rapid fall of his successors, and the origin of the Bourbon dynasty, contemporary with the Plantagenets of England-the crusades, with their vast effects, moral, social, and political, on the people and institutions of the country, and the balance of power among the different classes of society-the expulsion of the English by the ability of Philip Augustus, and the restoration of one monarchy over the whole of France-the frightful atrocities of the religious war against the Albigeois -the dreadful wars with England, which lasted one hundred and twenty years, from Edward III. to Henry V., with their immediate effect, analogous to that of the Wars of the Roses on this side of the Channel, in destroying the feudal powers of the nobility-the consequent augmentation of the power of the crown by the standing army of Charles VII. the indefatigable activity and state policy of Louis XI.-the brilliant but ephemeral conquest of Italy by the rise and progress of Charles IX.-the rivalry of Francis I. and Charles V.-the religious wars, with their desolating present effects, and lasting ultimate consequences the deep and Machiavelian policy of Cardinal Richelieu, and its entire success in concentrating the whole influence and power of Government in Paris-the brilliant era of Louis XIV., with its Augustan halo, early conquests, and ultimate disasters- the corruptions of the Regent Orleans and Louis XV.- the virtues, difficulties, and martyrdom of Louis XVI.-the commencement of the era of Revolutions, ending in the fanaticism of Robespierre and the carnage of the Empire-form a series of events and periods, stretching through the long course of eighteen centuries, and bringing down the annals of mankind from the Druids of Gaul and woods of Germany, to the intellect of Laplace and the glories of Napoleon.

To exhibit such a picture to the mind's eye in its just colours, due proportions, and real light-to trace so long a history fraught with such changes, glories, and disastersto unfold, through so vast a progress, the unceasing development of the human mind, and simultaneously with it the

constant punishment of human iniquity, is indeed a task worthy of the greatest intellect which the Almighty has ever vouchsafed to guide and enlighten mankind. It will never be adequately performed but by one mind: there is a unity which must pervade every great work of history, as of all the other Fine Arts; a succession of different hands breaks the thread of thought and mars the uniformity of effect as much in recording the annals of centuries, as in painting the passions of the heart, or the beauties of a single scene in nature. That it is not hopeless to look for such a mind is evident to all who recollect how Gibbon has painted the still wider expanse, and traced the longer story, of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire: but how often in a century does a Gibbon appear in the world!

In the outset of this noble task, Michelet has displayed very great ability; and the defects, as it appears to us, of his work, as it proceeds, strikingly illustrate the dangers to which the modern and graphic style of history is exposed. He is admirable, equally with Sismondi, Thierry, and Guizot, in the description of the condition of Gaul under the Romans, and the causes which paralysed the strength, and at length overthrew the power, of the empire of the Cæsars. With a discriminating eye and a master's hand, he has drawn the different character of the Celtic and German races of mankind, and the indelible impress which they have severally communicated to their descendants. The early settlement of the German tribes in Gaul, and the amalgamation of the victorious savage with the vanquished civilised race, is drawn in the spirit of a philosopher, and with a graphic power. If he had continued the work as it was thus begun, it would have left nothing to be desired.

But when he comes down to later times, and, above all, when he becomes involved in the endless maze and minute details of the Chronicles and early French Memoirs, the work assumes a different character. Though you still, in occasional expressions, see the reflections of the philosopherin frequent pictures, the eye of the painter-yet the narrative in general is flooded by an ocean of details. Fatigued with the endless maze of intrigues, wars, tumults, tortures, crusades, and crimes, which succeed one another in rapid