Now the term picturesque itself suggests artistic handling; and it is obvious that in art as much depends on the selection of the subject as on the mode of treating it. An historian is bound by his subject, and cannot make it picturesque if it is not so in reality. The great periods of picturesqueness are those in which personality is most powerful. This constitutes to many minds the charm of the history of Italy, especially in the fifteenth century. There was then a copious supply of determined and adventurous characters, whose main object was to express themselves fully. Outward circumstances gave them a favourable opportunity. They rose by their own dexterity, and aimed at artistic completeness in all their achievements. They are attractive by their freedom from conventional restraints, by their unhesitating self-confidence, and by the magnificence of their aims. The same spirit which animated Italy passed on in a somewhat modified form to the rest of Europe in the sixteenth century, and became domesticated in France. From that time onward we may say that French history is the most picturesque.
Yet it is worth observing that a mere expression of character, unfettered by ordinary restraints, does not of itself satisfy our craving for picturesqueness. In fact, the most purely personal history is that of the later Roman Empire, of the Byzantine Empire, and of its successor, the Russian Empire. For striking scenes and dramatic events, these histories surpass any others. Caligula and Nero, Leo the Isaurian and Irene, Ivan the Terrible and Peter the Great, outstrip in wilfulness and daring anything that Italy or France
