318 The Bight Bev. The Lord Bishop of London [Feb. 5, 



downfall of over-lofty schemes, but the small difficulties of their 

 daily business, the imperious limitations by which they were con- 

 stantly hampered. This has a meaning of direct importance to us 

 all ; but it is hard to make the troubles of daily life picturesque. 

 The writer of fiction moves us by the stirring adventures of his hero 

 and heroine in overcoming difficulties which stood in the way of 

 their marriage. Then he leaves them to settle down to humdrum 

 life as best they can. They are no longer interesting, but become as 

 ignoble and commonplace as their parents were at the beginning of 

 the book. The historian cannot treat his personages in the same 

 way. He has to face the difficulty of extracting some interest from 

 their average occupations. He is tempted to shirk it, and to hurry 

 on to something in which he can find fuller scope for his power of 

 description. 



It is, therefore, this diplomatic record which goes far to injure the 

 picturesqiieness of history. It constantly reveals limitations which 

 could not be overcome. It shows us the hero in his shirt-sleeves, 

 labouring mostly in vain, and it enables us to see only too clearly 

 his inevitable defects. But if we look a little longer we see that it 

 enlarges his personality, and exhibits him as the representative of 

 his nation. This really sets him on a higher level, and gives him a 

 greater dignity. He is bearing the burden of his country, and is 

 fettered by her deficiencies. There are many things which might be 

 done if he had the means to do them. He can only reckon on so 

 much, and must make it go as far as he can. His projects are 

 tentative, and he is often obliged to withdraw from much for want 

 of a little. He is not really his own master, but serves a public 

 which imperfectly understands its own position and grudges every- 

 thing it gives. Whatever else picturesqueness may attempt to do, it 

 must not seek to abolish the pathos of humble industry. 



I have been speaking generally about picturesque ways of writing 

 history, in the ordinary acceptation of the term. Let me attempt to 

 go a little farther, and try to discover in what the picturesqueness of 

 history consists. It is obvious that, if it lies in a series of vivid 

 pictures of events and striking presentations of character, the historian 

 cannot rival the writer of fiction, and historical novels are the proper 

 mode of expressing picturesque presentation. Some historians have 

 felt the need of a more imaginative treatment than their subject 

 properly allowed, and have supplemented their serious histories by 

 historical novels. But the point which I wish to consider is the 

 sense in which history can be made picturesque, and the reason why 

 some periods of history are more capable of picturesque treatment 

 than others. 



Now the term picturesque itself suggests artistic handling ; and it 

 is obvious that in art as much depends on the selection of the 

 subject as on the mode of treating it. An historian is bound by his 

 subject, and cannot make it picturesque if it is not so in reality. The 

 great periods of picturesqueness are those in which personality is 



