disheartened and repelled by the number of books which you will hear me quote and refer to, before my lectures are brought to a conclusion.

I must, therefore, enter still further into detail, and call your attention to the syllabus, which I have drawn up, and which you can hereafter consult.

You will there observe, in the first place, a course of reading pointed out so short, that it would be quite improper to suppose that the most indolent or the most busy among you, cannot now or hereafter accomplish it. This first course, as you will see by attending to the notes, into a second. This again into a third.

may be enlarged

In this manner I have endeavoured to provide for every different case that may exist among you. You have three different courses exhibited to you.

But with respect to the remainder of the syllabus and the number of books mentioned in the lectures, which may be considered as the fourth and last course, you will see, on a little reflection, that it is fit you should not only read any particular shorter course, but hear and understand what may be found in one still larger, even if you should not be likely hereafter to attempt it.

Your time will not be entirely thrown away while you are listening to the references I make and the descriptions I give, even though you should not always turn to the particular books and passages I thus recommend. You will at least know, after a certain indistinct manner, what history is, and this is the great use of all public lectures; for public lectures may give you a general idea of any science or subject, but can never of themselves do much more-they can never put you in possession of it. Add to this, that of the whole of this last and most extended course thus presented in these lectures to your curiosity, you may read minutely any parts that may more particularly interest you and not others; the Reformation, for instance, or the great struggle in the times of Charles I. Do not, therefore, be alarmed, any of

you,

when you see and hear the number of books I may refer you to.

Finally, I must take upon myself to assure you, that, if you show the syllabus to any man of letters, or any real student of the history of this or other countries, you will hear him only expressing his surprise that such and such books, which he will mention, are omitted, and that such and such portions of history (of India, for instance, or Ireland) are not even so much as alluded to. Believe me, he will not blame your lecturer for having offered too much to your curiosity. He will rather suppose him not sufficiently aware of all the proper objects of historical inquiry. Men of letters and real statesmen never cease to read history, as they never cease to occupy themselves in every different department of elegant and useful literature. Reading and reflection become with them a business and a pleasure, ceasing but with their lives.

Having thus endeavoured to give you some idea of the object of these lectures, and the general manner in which they are to be conducted, I must now say a word with respect to their extent.

It had not been my original intention to bring them down lower than the breaking out of the French Revolution; at that memorable period, modern history appeared to begin anew, and I long remained in the persuasion that my successors, not to speak of myself, would for some time scarcely find it within their competence to undertake an estimate of this tremendous event-its origin, its progress, and its consequences.

I had therefore always bounded my plan by the American Revolution; and after executing what I had thus proposed to myself as a proper object of my labour, I remained for some few years without making any further attempt. At last I thought it my duty to endeavour to go on. But even in executing my first original plan, my progress was slow.

I had many books to read and examine, to ascertain whe

ther they were to be recommended or not, whether to a certain extent, whether at all.

Much of my labour can never appear in any positive shape, and will chiefly operate in saving my hearers from that very occupation of time, which has so interrupted the advance of my own exertions.

I may point out to others, as paths to be avoided, paths where I have myself wandered in vain, and from whence I have returned fatigued and disappointed.

Thus much with respect to the object, the method, and the extent of my lectures.

And now I must call the attention of my hearers to a difficulty which belongs to all public lectures on history, and which I conceive to be of considerable importance. It is this. A lecturer must refer sometimes to books which have not been read at all by his hearers; and perpetually to those that have not been read lately, or with very minute attention. He must presuppose a knowledge which has not been acquired, or not retained. He must therefore often make remarks which cannot be judged of,—deliver sentiments and opinions which must necessarily be unintelligible,—and make frequent allusions which cannot be felt or comprehended by those whom he addresses. The truth is, that a lecturer arranges and writes down what he has to deliver while full of his subject, with all the information he can collect fresh and present to his mind; and he then approaches his hearers, who have in the meantime undertaken no labour of the kind, and are furnished with no equal advantages. lecturer is in one situation and the hearer in another. this is the reason why lecturers on the subject of history must always be found, at the time of delivery, more or less inefficient, and therefore unsatisfactory; why they must be even listened to with difficulty, certainly not without an almost continued effort of gratuitous attention. I by no means suppose that I have avoided this very serious difficulty;

The

And

on the contrary, it is one which must belong to every system of lectures and which I conceive both my hearers and myself will have constantly to struggle with.

I have selected, for instance, different books, and different parts of the same book, for the student's consideration: and the reasons of my preference, though I give them, cannot be estimated by my hearers, till the references I propose have been made. Again, I have directed my attention more particularly to some portions of the history of Europe than to others; but while I am delivering those general remarks to which they have given occasion in my own mind, I cannot suppose that the details on which those remarks are founded can be present to my hearers: or therefore that my remarks can be properly understood; the details not being known, the interest which such details have excited in me, can never be conveyed by me to those who hear me; for it is only by the actual perusal of circumstances and facts that interest can be excited curiosity, indeed, may be raised by a general description, but little more.

Add to this, that when any particular topic connected with history, or any particular period in the history of any country, has been well considered by any writer or historian, I have thought it better to refer to the author than to incorporate his observations into my own lectures. A blank will therefore be repeatedly left, as I proceed, in the mind of my hearer, though it may have been filled up in my own; and this interval in the train of events or topics presented to him must remain unoccupied, and the whole chain be left imperfect, till all the different links have been regularly supplied by his own subsequent diligence.

Inconveniences like these I have found myself totally unable to remedy: and as they will operate as unfavourably to me as to you, we must each be content to compound with them in the best manner we can, and limit our mutual expectations to what is practicable:—such attention as you can furnish, I must be happy to receive; and you must on your

C

part endeavour to listen to me, on the supposition that what you hear, whether now entirely comprehended or not, will be applicable, if remembered, to your own reading hereafter, and therefore possibly of benefit.

There is one point, however, which is so material, that, though I have alluded to it before, I must again recall it to your attention. It is this,-that my hearers are not to resort to me to receive historical knowledge but to receive hints that may be of use to them while they are endeavouring to acquire it for themselves. The great use, end, and triumph of all lectures is to excite and teach the hearer to become afterwards a lecturer to himself to facilitate his progress, perhaps to shorten his course—to amplify his views-to make him advance to a subject, if possible, in the united character of a master and a scholar. A hearer is not to sit passive, and to expect to see performed for him those tasks which he can only perform for himself. It is from a mistake of this nature that they who attend public lectures often retire from them with strong sensations of disappointment, They have sought impossibilities. They who listen to lectures must be content to become wise, as men can only become wise,--by the exercise-the discipline-the warfare, and the fatigue of their own faculties, amid labours to be endured, and difficulties to be surmounted. The temple of wisdom, like that of virtue, must be placed on an eminence.

Having now endeavoured to explain the design-the method-and the exteut of my lectures, and to state the difficulties which my hearer and myself will have mutually to encounter, it may be necessary to make some observations on the end and use, not indeed of lectures in history, but of history itself.

Curiosity is natural, and therefore history will be always read, and he who has anything to relate becomes immediately of importance to others and to himself; history will be always written.

History is a source of pleasure; a piece of history is at