defect. Not content with starting at the beginning of the drama, he very properly gives us a history of the characters before the commencement, so that we are prepared, as the pageant of fate moves on, to recognise the æsthetic truth of each man's life. Nor does this destroy the interest of the denouement; it greatly adds to it. A personal knowledge of any one always enhances the interest we feel in his fortunes, and it is half the task of a writer to enlist the attention of his readers. This is a hard labor to accomplish, but it ought to be done, otherwise the relator of the event is a narrator, and not a historian. Another besetting sin with this class of writers is their liability to overestimate the importance of some particular event. How easy is it to exaggerate this fact and diminish that? An undue prominence is thus given to a secondary idea, and so far history is falsified. The historian lies as much by the concealment of a fact, or even of an extenuating motive, as though he boldly stated the reverse of the case.

Properly treated, history should be a plain, ungarbled account of events as they really happened, accompanied with as much light as can be thrown upon the public stage by the private biographies of the actors themselves. In addition to this we should have the abuses of the time, and the irritative causes conspiring to rouse the masses calmly placed before us, so that a reason should be given for every result. To complete all, a careful summary should be drawn up, to show the amount of human advancement in the progress of this great spectacle, where nations are actors, empires scenes, crowns baubles, and revolutions the denouement.

This is the cause why romance is devoured in preference to

history. We are chilled into apathy by the generalization of the latter, while the personal specialties of the former are enchaining to old and young. Yet a moment's reflection is sufficient to convince all that the excitement of the one is far superior to the other. What can exceed the magnificence of a drama when kings are actors? And yet so badly managed is history generally that every lesson is received with lassitude.

When Mr. Prescott has prepared the argument of his works he becomes graphic. Till then there may appear too great an anxiety for every one to know everything. This is, however, a fault on the right side.

While he has a proper horror of tyranny, we observe a charity extending even to the perpetrator of the outrage; action and reaction follow each other in natural steps. The French Revolution, dreadful as were its excesses, was created by the enormities of the ancient regime; centuries of wrong-doing were heaped into one measure, and poured out at once on the devoted heads of the offending class. The narrator who regards the vengeance as distinct from the provocation, only sees one half the question, and his opinion is worthless. The true philosopher is sensible they are inseparable, and would be more astonished at the absence of the catastrophe than that it occurred.

Mr. Prescott's first work was the result of a labor of many years, and was called "The History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella." It displays many faults which a young writer would naturally fall into-an ostentatious display at word painting, and an attempt at fine writing. This censure, however,

only applies to the earlier chapters, which display a cumbrous diction not at all native to his style. As the work proceeds the author has gained his native element, and is thoroughly master of his vocation.

Mr. Prescott has divided his history of Ferdinand and Isabella into two parts, prefaced with an introduction, which partakes of his usual painstaking. The description of the Castilian monarchy, with its manners, customs, &c., is as complete as it is possible to make it. The reader feels at once among the nation described, and becomes imbued with many of the feelings of that momentous time.

The second part opens with a luminous review of the condition of Europe, and the bearing which the different states had upon the most important monarchy then existing. This is stated with admirable impartiality, and impresses every one that the writer was thoroughly master of his subject. Some of the characters in this work are sketched with great force and precision. We would especially notice Ferdinand and his noble wife. Columbus is done con amore, and stands out in bold relief, as he should do, the greatest of his time. Ximenes is likewise well drawn. Rising from the perusal of this work it seems as though we had a personal acquaintance with the chief actors in this eventful drama. The sagacity of Ferdinand seems as characteristic of him, as the fine womanly, heroism and nobility of soul are of his glorious wife. Six years after the publication of this work appeared his History of the Conquest of Mexico. For this he possessed advantages seldom vouchsafed to any author. The Spanish Government placed at his disposal unpublished correspondence, chronicles, legal documents, &c.,

sufficient to set up a dozen historians. From Mexico he also received most important and valuable assistance. Nor were these unusual advantages thrown away. As an English reviewer has observed, many of the characters are so well and vividly described that we may almost be permitted to call Mr. Prescott the Homer of history. We cannot, ourselves, go to this extent, but we frankly acknowledge that of all historical writers he possesses more of the epic romancist than any narrative writer of the day.

We have heard some of his most extravagant admirers contend that the Conquest of Mexico is a magnificent poem. This is absurdity; we can, however, truly predicate that it possesses many of the chief ingredients. Till Mr. Prescott published his voluminous histories there was much vagueness in the knowledge possessed by the masses on the subjects of which he has treated; he seems suddenly to have illuminated the general world, and to have created a knowledge where before there was a darkness. This is seldom achieved without the possession of that peculiar power termed genius, and we consider ourselves within the bounds of demonstration when we say that in these respects we consider Mr. Prescott as deserving the rare distinction of having a genius for historical composition.

We should like to present to the reader the passages we have alluded to, but our space will not permit us. We cannot, however, avoid quoting the closing pages of the "Conquest of Mexico." Here we have a passage full of Mr. Prescott's merits and blemishes. His partiality to Cortes is excessive; this is, however, on the right side; when it is known, we can guard against the bias. We can easily pardon an author's partiality

for a subject, more especially a biographer for his hero. All we require is a calm statement of facts, nothing extenuate, or aught set down in malice. We are then in a position to counteract the warmth of coloring of the poet, or the undue partiality of the advocate.

The character of Cortes has either been the subject of outrageous abuse, or else of fulsome adulation. Mr. Prescott, after a careful balancing of the conflicting evidence, sums up candidly :

"He was a knight-errant, in the literal sense of the word. Of all the band of adventurous cavaliers, whom Spain, in the sixteenth century, sent forth on the career of discovery and conquest, there was none more deeply filled with the spirit of romantic enterprise than Hernando Cortés. Dangers and difficulties, instead of deterring, seemed to have a charm in his eyes. They were necessary to rouse him to a full consciousness of his powers. He grappled with them at the outset, and, if I may so express myself, seemed to prefer to take his enterprises by the most difficult side. He conceived, at the first moment of his landing in Mexico, the design of its conquest. When he saw the strength of its civilization, he was not turned from his purpose. When he was assailed by the superior force of Narvaez, he still persisted in it; and, when he was driven in ruin from the capital, he still cherished his original idea. How successfully he carried it into execution we have seen.”

This is no doubt true of every great mind. It is this peculiarity which distinguishes the hero from the charlatan; the man who is reasoned, bullied, or laughed out of an opinion,