When Clarendon's _History_ was at last made public, no part of it
was more frequently discussed, or more highly praised, than its
characters--'so just', said Evelyn, 'and tempered without the least
ingredient of passion or tincture of revenge, yet with such natural
and lively touches as show his lordship well knew not only the
persons' outsides, but their very interiors.'[1] About the same time,
and probably as a consequence of the publication of Clarendon's work,
Bishop Burnet proceeded to put into its final form the _History_ on
which he had been engaged since 1683. He gave special attention to his
characters, some of which he entirely rewrote. They at once invited
comparison with Clarendon's, and first impressions, then as now, were
not in their favour. 'His characters are miserably wrought,' said
Swift.[2]

Burnet was in close touch with the political movements of his time.
'For above thirty years,' he wrote, 'I have lived in such intimacy
with all who have had the chief conduct of affairs, and have been so
much trusted, and on so many important occasions employed by them,
that I have been able to penetrate far into the true secrets of
counsels and designs.'[3] He had a retentive memory, and a full share
of worldly wisdom. But he was not an artist like Clarendon. His style
has none of the sustained dignity, the leisurely evolution, which in
Clarendon is so strangely at variance with the speed of composition.
All is stated, nothing suggested. There is a succession of short
sentences, each perfectly clear in itself, often unlinked to what
precedes or follows, and always without any of the finer shades of
meaning. It is rough work, and on the face of it hasty, and so it
would have remained, no matter how often it had been revised. Again,