to the original and contemporary annals of their events, and
discarded every thing from their narrative which was not found to be
supported by such unquestionable authority. In thought, they endeavoured
to reflect, as in a mirror, the ideas of the age of which they treated,
rather than see it through their own: in narrative or description, they
rather availed themselves of the materials, how scanty soever, collected
by eyewitnesses, in preference to eking out the picture by imaginary
additions, and the richer colouring of subsequent ages. This is the
great characteristic of the graphic or picturesque school of French
history; and there can be no question that in regard to the first
requisite of history, trustworthiness, and the subordinate but also
highly important object, of rendering the narrative interesting, it is a
very great improvement, alike upon the tedious narrative of former
learning, or the provoking pretensions of more recent philosophy.
Justice can never be done to the actions or thoughts of former times,
unless the former are narrated from the accounts of eyewitnesses, and
with the fervour which they alone can feel--the latter in the very
words, as much as possible, employed by the speakers on the occasions.
Nor will imagination ever produce any thing so interesting as the
features which actually presented themselves at the moment to the
observer. Every painter knows the superior value of sketches, however
slight, made on the spot, to the most laboured subsequent reminiscences.

But while this is perfectly true on the one hand, it is equally clear on
the other, that this recurrence to ancient and contemporary authority
must be for the facts, events, and outline of the story only; and that
the filling up must be done by the hand of the artist who is engaged in
producing the complete work. If this is not done, history ceases to be
one of the fine arts. It degenerates into a mere collection of
chronicles, records, and ballads, without any connecting link to unite,
or any regulating mind to arrange them. History then loses the place
assigned it by Mr Fox, next to poetry and before oratory; it becomes
nothing more than a magazine of antiquarian lore. Such a magazine may be
interesting to antiquaries; it may be valuable to the learned in
ecclesiastical disputes, or the curious in genealogy or family records;
but these interests are of a very partial and transient description. It
will never generally fascinate th