Psychologue incomparable, des qu’il etudie des ames noires ou blessees, dramaturge habile, mais borne aux scenes d’effroi et de pitie....  Selon qu’on est plus touche par tel ou tel exces de son talent, on peut l’appeler avec justice un philosophe, un apotre, un aliene, le consolateur des affliges ou le bourreau des esprits tranquilles, le Jeremie de bagne ou le Shakespeare de la maison des fous; toutes ces appellations seront meritees; prise isolement, aucune ne sera suffisante.

There is manifestly much which is deeply interesting, and also much which is really lovable in the Russian national character.  It must, however, be singularly mournful and unpleasant to pass through life burdened with the reflection that it would have been better not to have been born, albeit such sentiments are not altogether inconsistent with the power of deriving a certain amount of enjoyment from living.  It was that pleasure-loving old cynic, Madame du Deffand, who said:  “Il n’y a qu’un seul malheur, celui d’etre ne.”  Nevertheless, the avowed joyousness bred by the laughing tides and purple skies of Greece is certainly more conducive to human happiness, though at times even Greeks, such as Theognis and Palladas, lapsed into a morbid pessimism comparable to that of Tolstoy.  Metrodorus, however, more fully represented the true Greek spirit when he sang, “All things are good in life” ([Greek:  panta gar esthla bio]).  The Roman pagan, Juvenal, gave a fairly satisfactory answer to the question, “Nil ergo optabunt homines?” whilst the Christian holds out hopes of that compensation in the next world for the afflictions of the present, which the sombre and despondent Russian philosopher, determined that we shall not find enjoyment in either world, denies to his morose and grief-stricken followers.

X

THE WRITING OF HISTORY[76]

"The Spectator,” April 26, 1913

What are the purposes of history, and in what spirit should it be written?  Such, in effect, are the questions which Mr. Gooch propounds in this very interesting volume.  He wisely abstains from giving any dogmatic answers to these questions, but in a work which shows manifest signs of great erudition and far-reaching research he ranges over the whole field of European and American literature, and gives us a very complete summary both of how, as a matter of fact, history has been written, and of the spirit in which the leading historians of the nineteenth century have approached their task.

Mr. Bryce, himself one of the most eminent of modern historians, recently laid down the main principle which, in his opinion, should guide his fellow-craftsmen.  “Truth,” he said, “and truth only is our aim.”  The maxim is one which would probably be unreservedly accepted in theory by the most ardent propagandist who has ever used history as a vehicle for the dissemination of his own views