I wish indeed that I had the tongues
of men and of angels to express the admiration of
the reading public of America for the History of John
Richard Green. I suppose that he has had more
readers in our country than any other historian except
Macaulay, and he has shaped the opinions of men who
read, more than any writers of history except those
whom John Morley called the great born men of letters, Gibbon,
Macaulay, and Carlyle.
I think it is the earlier volumes
rather than the last volume of his more extended work
which have taken hold of us. Of course we thrill
at his tribute to Washington, where he has summed
up our reverence, trust, and faith in him in one single
sentence which shows true appreciation and deep feeling;
and it flatters our national vanity, of which we have
a goodly stock, to read in his fourth volume that the
creation of the United States was one of the turning
points in the history of the world.
No saying is more trite, at any rate
to an educated American audience, than that the development
of the English nation is one of the most wonderful
things, if not the most wonderful thing, which history
records. That history before James I is our own,
and, to our general readers, it has never been so
well presented as in Green’s first two volumes.
The victories of war are our own. It was our ancestors
who preserved liberty, maintained order, set the train
moving toward religious toleration, and wrought out
that language and literature which we are proud of,
as well as you.
For my own part, I should not have
liked to miss reading and re-reading the five chapters
on Elizabeth in the second volume. What eloquence
in simply the title of the last, The England
of Shakespeare! And in fact my conception of
Elizabeth, derived from Shakespeare, is confirmed by
Green. As I think how much was at stake in the
last half of the sixteenth century, and how well the
troubles were met by that great monarch and the wise
statesman whom she called to her aid, I feel that
we could not be what we are, had a weak, irresolute
sovereign been at the head of the state.
With the power of a master Green manifests
what was accomplished. At the accession of Elizabeth “Never”
so he wrote “had the fortunes of
England sunk to a lower ebb. The loss of Calais
gave France the mastery of the Channel. The French
King in fact ’bestrode the realm, having one
foot in Calais, and the other in Scotland.’”
And at the death of Elizabeth, thus
Green tells the story: “The danger which
had hitherto threatened our national existence and
our national unity had disappeared: France clung
to the friendship of England, Spain trembled beneath
its blows.”
With the wide range of years of his
subject, with a grasp of an extended period akin to
Gibbon’s, complete accuracy was, of course, not
attainable, but Samuel R. Gardiner once told me that
Green, although sometimes inaccurate in details, gave
a general impression that was justifiable and correct;
and that is in substance the published opinion of
Stubbs.
Goethe said that in reading Moliere
you perceive that he possessed the charm of an amiable
nature in habitual contact with good society.
So we, who had not the advantage of personal intercourse,
divined was the case of Green; and when the volume
of Letters appeared, we saw that we had guessed correctly.
But not until then did we know of his devotion to his
work, and his heroic struggle, which renders the story
of his short and brilliant career a touching and fascinating
biography of a historian who made his mark upon his
time.