those shades of expression which in another's countenance we should have passed by unheeded. Well, it seems to me that, parallel with this experience, is that which we gain, when, reading some first-rank romance, we encounter in its pages a figure with which History has made us more or less familiar. And I would remark that the great masters do not, as a rule, make that mistake which less skilful writers fall into—the mistake of introducing well-known historical figures too frequently. The Cromwell of "Woodstock" has an element of mystery about him, even while he stands out before our mental vision in bold relief. Had Scott brought him more prominently into the plot, and thus emphasized the fictional aspect of his figure, our interest in the story, as such, might have been sustained, but we should have lost that atmosphere of vraisemblance which, under a more careful reserve, the hand of the master has wrought for us.

But it is not only this introduction of personalities which constitutes a novel "historical"; the mere allusion to real events, or the introduction of dates, may give us sufficient ground for identifying the period with which a novel deals. Of course the question as to whether a particular person or event is truly historical, is not always an easy one to answer. By the adaptation in it of some purely mythical character or event, a novel is no more constituted "historical" than is a Fairy-tale by the adaptation of folklore. King Arthur and Robin Hood are unhistorical, and, if I have ventured to insert in my list certain tales which deal with the latter, it is not on that account, but because other figures truly historical (e.g., Richard I.) appear. As there has been some dispute on this question of the Historical Novel proper, I offer the following definition:—A Novel is rendered Historical by the introduction of dates, personages, or events, to which identification can be readily given. I am quite aware that certain well-known novels which give the general atmosphere of a period—such, for example, as Hawthorne's "Scarlet Letter" and Mr. Hewlett's "Forest Lovers"—do not come within the scope of my definition; but this is just why I have added a "Supplementary List" of semi-historical tales. And, while I am alluding to this "Supplementary List," I should like to give my reason for omitting from it one remarkable book which has every claim to be considered representative of the mid-nineteenth century. Readers of "John Inglesant" may be reminded that in his interesting preface Mr. Shorthouse alludes to William Smith's philosophical novel—"Thorndale." As a picture of Thought developments in the early Victorian period, the latter work has special historical interest for the philosophical and theological student; in this respect it may be likened to Pater's "Marius the Epicurean," which vividly reproduces the Intellectual ferment of an earlier age. "Thorndale," however, is primarily didactic, and the philosophical dialogues (interesting as these are to the metaphysician) hardly atone to the general reader for an almost entire absence of plot. The above is, doubtless, an altogether extreme instance, but the exclusion of several other works from the category of Romance seems to follow on something like the same grounds. Becker's "Charicles" and "Gallus" are little more than school textbooks, while, turning to a less scholarly quarter, Ainsworth's "Preston Fight," and even his better-known "Guy Fawkes," may be cited as illustrating what Mr. Shorthouse means when he speaks of novels "in which a small amount of fiction has been introduced simply for the purpose of relating History." In all such cases the average novel-reader feels that he has been allured on false pretences. I am well aware that not a few of the books included in my List might be considered to fall under the same ban, but I think it will be found that in most of them there is at least a fair attempt to arouse narrative interest.

Coming to the List itself, it will be noticed that I have been somewhat sparing in the books given under the "Pre-Christian" heading. Novels dealing with these very far-off times are apt to be unsatisfactory; the mist in which events and personages are enveloped, takes away from that appearance of reality which is the great charm of the historical novel. We are hardly concerned, in reading "Sarchedon" and similar books, to get away from the purely imaginary pictures which spring from the Novelist's own brain, and the danger is that the very elements which add to our interest in the tale as such, will go far to mislead us in our conception of the period dealt with. There is none of that sense of familiarity which we enjoy when reading a sixteenth or seventeenth century romance; in the latter case, the historical background, being easily perceptible, merges for us with the creations of the author's own imagination. Where the writer of an "ancient" romance happens to be a scholar like Ebers, we feel that—so far at least as historical presentment goes—we cannot be far wrong, but the combination of great scholarship and narrative capacity is, alas, too rare!

I have likewise refrained from giving many tales dealing with Early-Christian times. We are here, it must be admitted, on controversial ground, and under the First Century heading I have endeavoured to insert romances of the highest quality only. For instance, I think that Dr. Abbott's "Philochristus" and Wallace's "Ben Hur" ought to satisfy two different types of readers. And this is the place, doubtless, to say that in my lists will be found books of widely differing merit and aim. School teachers, and others in like capacity, will easily discriminate between authors suitable for juvenile or untrained tastes, and authors whose appeal is specially to those of maturer thought and experience. Differing as much in method and style as in choice of period and character type, Thackeray's "Vanity Fair" and George Eliot's "Romola" have at least this in common—they require a very high degree of intelligence for their due appreciation. Who, among those of us with any knowledge of such works, would dream of recommending them to a youthful reader fresh from the perusal of Miss Yonge's "Little Duke," or Captain Marryatt's "Children of the New Forest"?

Naturally in a list of this kind there is bound to be very great inequality; certain periods have been wholly ignored by writers of the first rank, while in others we have something like an embarras de richesse. Consequently, I have been compelled, here and there, to insert authors of only mediocre merit. In other cases, again, I have not hesitated to omit works by writers of acknowledged position when these have seemed below the author's usual standard, and where no gap had to be filled. I would instance the James II.- William III. period. Here Stanley Weyman and "Edna Lyall" might have been represented, but, there being no dearth of good novels dealing with both the above reigns, I did not deem it advisable to call in these popular writers at the point which has been very generally considered their lowest. I mention this to show that omissions do not necessarily mean ignorance, though, in covering such an immense ground, I cannot doubt that romances worthy of a place in my list have been overlooked.

I think many will be surprised to find how large a proportion of
our best writers (English and American) have entered the domain of
Historical or Semi-Historical Romance. Scott, Thackeray, Dickens,
George Eliot, Charlotte Bronte, George Meredith, R. L. Stevenson,
Hawthorne, Peacock, Charles Kingsley, Henry Kingsley, Charles
Reade, Anthony Trollope, Mrs. Gaskell, Walter Besant, Lytton,
Disraeli, J. H. Newman, J. A. Froude, and Walter Pater—these are a
few of the names which appear in the following pages; while
Tolstoy, Dumas, Balzac, George Sand, Victor Hugo, De Vigny, Prosper
Merimee, Flaubert, Theophile Gautier, Freytag, Scheffel, Hauff,
Auerbach,