The historian must be able to write distinguished English, and he must understand the enormous possibilities of his medium. He must add a sense of artistry to his scholarship. He must be a man of experience in human event, a man who has done and suffered; must have been in crowds and seen “how madly men can care about nothings,” and he must disabuse his mind of formula and theory before he begins to write. Sir Arthur Helps said this years ago:-- “To make themselves historians, they should also have considered the combinations among men and the laws that govern such things; for there are laws. Moreover our historians, like most men who do great things, must combine in themselves qualities which are held to belong to opposite natures; must at the same time be patient in research and _vigorous in imagination_, energetic and calm, cautious and enterprising.” History, in short, is the complement of poetry, and with this definition as a basis let us proceed to examine some of the Oxford historians of to-day. But first let me recapitulate the points at which we have so far arrived. I have endeavoured to make plain, that-- (_a_) The Oxford historians of the moment enjoy an unjust monopoly, and exercise a disastrous power of veto. (_b_) That the _power_ to stop all this, to force these people to their duty or to send them about their business lies with the majority. (_c_) That the majority is composed of those who pay for the education of their sons, and of those who proceed to the University for an education. (_d_) That the historian must be not only a scholar, but an artist and man of letters also. (_e_) That the fear of Froude provoked the attack on him in the past, and has maintained it until a year ago. (_f_) That Mr. Paul’s _Life of Froude_ has silenced the misstatements of mediocrity and incompetence for ever. The whole business of Froude has provided one with a lens in which to focus the question upon the page, and no one was ever provided with a better text than I have been. Excuse me, however, if I make a brief personal explanation. While engaged upon this piece of work an Oxford man, an old-fashioned High Churchman of the Freeman type, has been staying with me. It is forty years since he was in residence, and he did not see with me at all in this matter when we discussed it. “I cannot understand,” he said, “how you are going to champion Froude and Mr. Paul against Freeman, who was perfectly sound on Church matters, as I believe you to be. All you have ever published has been in support of Catholic Truth, and yet you are earnestly advocating a historian who was the incarnation of Protestantism.”