and consequence in hindsight, necessarily provide a chronologicalrnstructure of such a summary, dictate the emphases, andrnthus appear to occur as a result of preceding such events. Arnshortage of space produces an emphasis on order and policy,rncauses and results, as opposed to disorder and confusion. In therndomestic context decision-making is simplified, and pressuresrnare said directly to cause policies: for example, popular agitationrnfor an extension of the franchise “led” to the British First ReformrnAct of 1832. The ambiguity of influence is replaced byrnthe need to attribute cause briefly. This can also be seen in thernstyle of writing: there is a staccato of active assertion in place ofrnthe more realistic balancing of subordinate clauses and the passiverntense.rnIn addition, there is a process of aggregation, or simplification,rnthat eases the difficulties of lengthy explanation. Groupsrnare presented cleadv, for example the peasantry, the aristocracy,rnand the middle class, and each is seen as united and operatingrnin a clear fashion. Similarly, bodies such as the government orrnPadiament, interests such as “mercantile influence” and “publicrnopinion,” periods, such as the 1590’s, developments, such asrn”policy,” and situations, such as culture or socioeconomicrnstructure, are presented as clear and distinct activities, influences,rneras, and bodies whose conscious interaction determinedrnevents. This culminates in the understandable, but inaccurate,rnuse of countries and peoples as shorthand terms forrncomplex and often confusing processes of decision-making.rnThe relationship between institution or group and opinion isrnanother vexed problem. Furthermore, there is a strong tendencyrnto consolidate and reify ideas and attitudes, and terms suchrnas reaction, conservative, liberal, progressive, and radical arernapplied far too readily. Instead, the nature and influence ofrnsuch ideas altered considerably and often involved controversy.rnThev require continual reassessment in any wide-ranging study,rnbut space rarely permits this. In addition, it is necessary to berncautious in suggesting that policies arose or events happenedrnbecause of ideas. It is important to explain the process by whichrnthese ideas were influential.rnThe past was far more complex than is generally presented,rnand good “A” Level students should reveal how difficult itrnis to be precise about past developments. They should be encouragedrnto reflect maturely not only on the degree to whichrnthere have been, and are, historiographical controversies, but alsornabout the very problems of understanding the past and writingrnhistor}’. It is important to appreciate that choices existed,rnthat developments and policies were not inevitable and structurallyrndetermined, but, instead, that contingencies and thernviews of individuals were of consequence. In recreating thernworld of choice in uncertainty that affected decisions, scholar,rnteacher, and student alike are restoring the element of free will,rna moral dimension to history that invites us in considering howrnpeople in the past chose, to reflect on what we might haverndone, and do, in similar circumstances.rnStudents now use sources from the past far more than previously.rnThey capture the flavor of contemporary opinion and indicaternthe way in which people thought and expressed themselves.rnDocuments present problems: they were intended tornpersuade and can mislead. However, sources enable one torngrasp the uncertainties of the past, the roles of chance and perceptionrnin societies that did not know what was going to happen.rnSources restore a human perspective to a historical imaginationrntoo often dominated by impersonal forces. This canrnlead to greater difficulties in posing and answering questions ofrnthe relationships between change and continuity, the shortrnterm and the longue duree, but what history teaches is humanernskepticism: the difficulties of comprehension and the problemsrnwith clear-cut, schematic interpretations. As a subject, historyrnis, therefore, opposed to the clarity of ideology. It is not an unbrokenrnmirror reflecting our views, but a fractured glass withrnpieces missing or opaque, and a general pattern that is impossiblernto distinguish to general satisfaction.rnMilitary history is the most obvious field in which it is dangerousrnto adopt the perspective of hindsight. War-gamersrnpursue an entirely reasonable pastime, asking whether batfles,rncampaigns, and conflicts could have had different results.rnCould the Jacobites have won, the British have defeated thernAmerican Revolutionaries, or the Confederates triumphed inrnthe American Civil War? Recent work has thrown doubt onrnany determinist technological approach to the history of warfare,rnand the role of chance and contingent factors of terrain,rnleadership quality, morale, the availability of reserves, and thernunpredictable spark that ignites a powder magazine appear crucialrnwhen explaining particular engagements. War is not alwaysrnwon by the big battalions, and the determinist economic accountrnthat explains success in international relations in terms ofrnthe economic strength of particular states, the approach adoptedrnin Paul Kennedy’s Rise and Fall of the Great Powers (1989),rnis open to question.rnThere is also a lack of inevitability in internal affairs. Thus,rnthe constitutional, political, and religious trajectories of individualrnstates and nations were far from necessary. It was not inevitablernthat Britain would become Protestant, while Irelandrnand France remained Catholic. It was not inevitable that thernStuarts would be less successful than the other newly powerfulrndynasties of the eady 17th century, the Romanovs in Russia andrnthe Bourbons in France. It was not inevitable that the WestminsterrnPadiament would survive and grow in power and authorityrnwhen other constitutional bodies were suppressed or becamernless influential.rnThe entire agenda of early modern history can be reexamined.rnThe decline of Spain was no more inevitable than thernFrench Revolution. The latter conclusion arises from recent research,rnbut it was also a view held by contemporaries. The revolutionrnin its eady or “pre-revolutionary” stages was seen not asrna new development, a product of spreading radicalism, butrnrather as a conventional political crisis, in which a ruler facedrnserious domestic problems, primarily aristocratic factionalismrnand financial difficulties. These appeared to affect France’s internationalrncapability, her ability to wage war or sustain a militaryrnconfrontation, her stability as an ally, but they were notrnnovel in type, did not therefore necessarily appear insuperablernor likely to provoke a change in the French political system, andrnit was possible to envisage a revival of French strength. This wasrnto come, eventually, through revolutionary change, but in 1788rnand eady 1789 it appeared, instead, that a revival, producing arnmore effective monarchy, would come either through a solutionrnto the political crisis achieved b}’ traditional means or byrninstitutional reform and constitutional revival that focused on arnnew partnership between crown and nation, a path predictedrnby the radical Tom Paine in his pamphlet Prospects on the Rubicon,rnpublished in November 1787. This was certainly whatrnwas sought by the French government and political nation.rnWilliam Robertson welcomed the prospect of France adoptingrnBritish constitutional principles, and thus becoming stronger.rnJANUARY 1996/21rnrnrn