dy of historic facts does not even
make for the popular newspaper theory of the continuous and necessary
progress of humanity, it shows only "partial and intermittent advances,
and gives us no reason to attribute them to a permanent cause inherent
in collective humanity rather than to a series of local accidents." But
the historian's path is still like that of Bunyan's hero, bordered by
pitfalls and haunted by hobgoblins, though certain of his giant
adversaries are crippled and one or two slain. He has also his own
faults to master, or at least to check, as MM. Langlois and Seignobos
not infrequently hint, _e.g._ "Nearly all beginners have a vexatious
tendency to go off into superfluous digressions, heaping up reflexion
and information that have no bearing on the main subject. They will
recognise, if they think over it, that the causes of this leaning are
bad taste, a kind of naive vanity, sometimes a disordered mind." Again:
"The faults of historic works intended for the general public ... are
the results of the insufficient preparation of the bad literary training
of the popularisers." What an admirable criticism there is too of that
peculiarly German shortcoming (one not, however, unknown elsewhere),
which results in men "whose learning is ample, whose monographs destined
for scholars are highly praiseworthy, showing themselves capable, when
they write for the public, of sinning heavily against scientific
methods," so that, in their determination to stir their public, "they
who are so scrupulous and particular when it is a question of dealing
with minutiae, abandon themselves like the mass of mankind to their
natural inclinations when they come to set forth general questions. They
take sides, they blame, they praise, they colour, they embellish, they
allow themselves to take account of personal, patriotic, ethical, or
metaphysical considerations. Above all, they apply themselves with what
talent has fallen to their lot to the task of creating a work of art,
and, so applying themselves, those of them who lack talent become
ridiculous, and the talent of those who possess it is spoilt by their
anxiety for effect."

On the other hand, while the student is rejoicing at the smart raps
bestowed upon the Teutonic offender, he is warned against the error of
thinking that "provided he can make himself understood, the historian
has the right to use a faulty, low, careless, or clogged style....
Seeing the extreme complexity of t