n of historical genius; and so far has this
defect raised prejudices against us, that some have doubted whether an
Englishman can stop at that mediocrity of style, or confine his mind to
that even tenour of imagination, which narrative requires.

They who can believe that nature has so capriciously distributed
understanding, have surely no claim to the honour of serious
confutation. The inhabitants of the same country have opposite
characters in different ages; the prevalence or neglect of any
particular study can proceed only from the accidental influence of some
temporary cause; and if we have failed in history, we can have failed
only because history has not hitherto been diligently cultivated.

But how is it evident, that we have not historians among us, whom we may
venture to place in comparison with any that the neighbouring nations
can produce? The attempt of Raleigh is deservedly celebrated for the
labour of his researches, and the elegance of his style; but he has
endeavoured to exert his judgment more than his genius, to select facts,
rather than adorn them; and has produced an historical dissertation, but
seldom risen to the majesty of history.

The works of Clarendon deserve more regard. His diction is indeed
neither exact in itself, nor suited to the purpose of history. It is the
effusion of a mind crowded with ideas, and desirous of imparting them;
and therefore always accumulating words, and involving one clause and
sentence in another. But there is in his negligence a rude inartificial
majesty, which, without the nicety of laboured elegance, swells the mind
by its plenitude and diffusion. His narration is not perhaps
sufficiently rapid, being stopped too frequently by particularities,
which, though they might strike the author who was present at the
transactions, will not equally detain the attention of posterity. But
his ignorance or carelessness of the art of writing is amply compensated
by his knowledge of nature and of policy; the wisdom of his maxims, the
justness of his reasonings, and the variety, distinctness, and strength
of his characters.

But none of our writers can, in my opinion, justly contest the
superiority of Knolles, who, in his history of the Turks, has displayed
all the excellencies that narration can admit. His style, though
somewhat obscured by time, and sometimes vitiated by false wit, is pure,
nervous, elevated, and clear. A wonderful multiplicity of events is so
artfully arr