ory, I shall be asked, the study so proper for uninstructed
minds? History, that may in some measure be considered as concentring in
itself the elements of all other sciences? History, by which we are
informed of the rise and progress of every art, and by whose testimony
the comparative excellence of every art is ascertained? History, the
very testimony of which is not to be admitted, without the previous
trial of metaphysical scrutiny, and philosophic investigation? Lastly,
History, that is to be considered as a continual illustration of the
arts of fortification and tactics; but above all of politics, with its
various appendages, commerce, manufacture, finances?

To all this, I calmly answer, No: it is not history in any of these
forms, that constitutes the science to which I would direct the
attention of my pupil. Of the utility of the history of arts and
sciences, at least, as a general study, I have no very high opinion. But
were my opinion ever so exalted, I should certainly chuse to postpone
this study for the present. I should have as little to do with tactics
and fortification. I would avoid as much as possible the very subject of
war. Politics, commerce, finances, might easily be deferred. I would
keep far aloof from the niceties of chronology, and the dispute of
facts. I would not enter upon the study of history through the medium of
epitome. I would even postpone the general history of nations, to the
character and actions of particular men.

Many of the articles I have mentioned, serve to compose the pedantry of
history. Than history, no science has been more abused. It has been
studied from ostentation; it has been studied with the narrow views of
little minds; it has been warped to serve a temporary purpose. Ingenious
art has hung it round with a thousand subtleties, and a thousand
disputes. The time has at length arrived, when it requires an erect
understanding, and a penetrating view, above the common rate, to
discover the noble purposes, which this science is most immediately
calculated to subserve.

In a word, the fate of history has been like that of travelling. The
institution has been preserved, but its original use is lost. One man
travels from fashion, and another from pride. One man travels to measure
buildings, another to examine pictures, and a third perhaps to learn to
dance. Scarcely any remember that its true application is to study men
and manners. Perhaps a juster idea cannot be given o