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