and even iniquitous as we see them in other backward
countries at the present day. We learn that manners and morals may not
be unchangeable in a nation; that fallacies and prejudices are not
ineradicable; that even cruelty, tyranny, reckless bloodshed, are not
incurable vices. For history tells us that some of the nations now
foremost in the ranks of civilisation have passed through the stages
of society in which such things are possible. And thus we can study
the circumstances and conditions of political existence which have
retarded the upward progress of certain nations and accelerated the
advance of others. Such inquiries belong to the philosophy of history.
When we read, for example, the history of England in the fifteenth or
sixteenth century, we find that our ancestors, born and bred in this
same island, kindly men in private life and sincerely religious,
intellectually not our inferiors, yet, when they took sides in
politics or Church questions, did things which appear to us utterly
cruel, against reason, justice, and humanity. To remember this helps
us to realise the difficulty of passing fair judgment not only on the
conduct of our forefathers, but upon the actions and character of
other peoples and governments that are doing very similar things at
the present time in other parts of the world. We shall find it an
arduous task to assign motives, to weigh considerations, to acquit or
condemn. So that, to the politician of to-day, history ought to be an
invaluable guide and monitor for taking an impartial measure of the
difficulties of government in troubled or perilous circumstances. Yet
one sometimes wishes that the record of the fierce and bitter
struggles of former days had been forgotten, for it still breeds
rancour and resentment among the descendants of the people that fought
for lost causes, and suffered the penalty of defeat. The remembrance
keeps alive grievances, and the ancient tale of wrongs that have long
been remedied survives to perpetuate national antipathies. Moreover,
in some of the most celebrated cases known to our own annals, we are
never sure that we have the whole case before us, for the historians
give doubtful help, since the best authorities often take opposite
views, as, for instance, on the question whether Mary Queen of Scots
was her husband's murderess, or a much injured and calumniated lady.
The admitted facts are valued differently, interpreted variously, and
made to support contra