was　that　very　stumbling　and　erring　which　I　so　regret。

XVII

Why　do　I　give　so　much　of　my　time　to　the　reading　of　history？　Is　it　in　any　sense　profitable　to　me？　What　new　light　can　I　hope　for　on　the　nature　of　man？　What　new　guidance　for　the　direction　of　my　own　life　through　the　few　years　that　may　remain　to　me？　But　it　is　with　no　such　purpose　that　I　read　these　voluminous　books；　they　gratify……or　seem　to　gratify……a　mere　curiosity；　and　scarcely　have　I　closed　a　volume；　when　the　greater　part　of　what　I　have　read　in　it　is　forgotten。

Heaven　forbid　that　I　should　remember　all！　Many　a　time　I　have　said　to　myself　that　I　would　close　the　dreadful　record　of　human　life；　lay　it　for　ever　aside；　and　try　to　forget　it。　Somebody　declares　that　history　is　a　manifestation　of　the　triumph　of　good　over　evil。　The　good　prevails　now　and　then；　no　doubt；　but　how　local　and　transitory　is　such　triumph。　If　historic　tomes　had　a　voice；　it　would　sound　as　one　long　moan　of　anguish。　Think　steadfastly　of　the　past；　and　one　sees　that　only　by　defect　of　imaginative　power　can　any　man　endure　to　dwell　with　it。　History　is　a　nightmare　of　horrors；　we　relish　it；　because　we　love　pictures；　and　because　all　that　man　has　suffered　is　to　man　rich　in　interest。　But　make　real　to　yourself　the　vision　of　every　blood…stained　page……stand　in　the　presence　of　the　ravening　conqueror；　the　savage　tyrant……tread　the　stones　of　the　dungeon　and　of　the　torture…room……feel　the　fire　of　the　stake……hear　the　cries　of　that　multitude　which　no　man　can