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English history in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries has always attracted a breed of elegant, highly-educated, but essentially amateur historians who are the direct descendants of industrious nineteenth-century divines like Archdeacon Coxe and Robert Blencowe, or literary ladies like Mrs. Julia Cartwright Addy. They have a great reverence for original authorities (though they avoid unpublished manuscripts), but they either cannot or will not read the learned journals of the professional historians, or their monographs and indeed their knowledge of historical writing in general over the last twenty years often has curious and erratic gaps. This gives many of their books a curiously faded air, like the last fashionable novel on the table of one of Lord Macaulay's young ladies. Their contribution to the sum of knowledge is minimal.
Review, 1809 words
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