ABSTRACT
One short period seems somehow set apart from the vast sweep of time. Its beginning was relatively recent, and its end overlaps our own day. Nothing in it neither its outstanding social and political characteristics, nor its physical equipment, nor its cultural tone presents any important contrasts with our own world. It appears, in a word, to assume a very marked degree of contemporaneousness with us. And, from this, it derives the virtue or defect of being distinct from the rest of the past. A high-school teacher, who was very old when the author was very young, once told them: Since 1830, there has been no more history. It is all politics. Nor would one say: It is all politics. Rather, with a respectful air: It is all sociology. Or, with less respect: It is all journalism. Yet they would not agree very well in other respects as to the reasons for this ostracism.
