History is the story of events, with praise or blame.

“History is the story of events, with praise or blame.” – Cotton Mather

In these few, solemn words, Cotton Mather, the Puritan preacher and chronicler of early America, captures the essence of what it means to remember the past. His declaration is both simple and profound — that history is not merely a record of what happened, but a mirror reflecting the judgments of the human heart. Every event, every deed, every turning of the ages is remembered not only for its occurrence, but for the moral weight it carries. Mather’s words remind us that history is not lifeless chronology; it is the living conscience of a people. In it we find both praise for the virtuous and blame for the wicked — for no tale of humanity is told without the balance of good and evil.

The origin of this quote lies in the world Mather knew — a world still raw with struggle, faith, and transformation. Born in seventeenth-century New England, he was both a scholar and a preacher, a man whose pen chronicled the unfolding of a new civilization in the wilderness. Yet his was also an age of conflict — of witch trials, wars, and moral reckonings. Mather saw that the story of humankind was not neutral. Every act carried consequence, every choice left an imprint on the soul of time. Thus, he understood that to write history is to render judgment. The historian, like the prophet, must weigh the hearts of men. For what use is the story of kings and battles if it does not teach us to discern what is noble and what is shameful?

To say that “history is the story of events, with praise or blame” is to acknowledge that memory itself is moral. The deeds of the past are not dust — they are lessons written in fire and blood, meant to guide the generations that follow. Consider the fall of Ancient Rome, once mighty, now remembered as a warning against decadence and division. Its triumphs are praised, its decline lamented. Or think of the American Revolution, whose heroes are celebrated for their courage and whose ideals of liberty continue to inspire, even as its contradictions — the persistence of slavery, the exclusion of many — call forth our reproach. Mather’s words teach that every page of history is inscribed with both glory and guilt, and that to understand our past, we must have the courage to face both.

In every age, the historian holds a sacred duty — to tell the story of events truthfully, but never without conscience. When Herodotus wrote of Greece and Persia, he praised the valor of those who defended freedom and condemned the arrogance of those who sought to enslave. When Thucydides recorded the Peloponnesian War, he did not merely recount battles, but examined the corruption of ideals and the decay of virtue. When Winston Churchill chronicled the Second World War, he did so not only to record victory, but to remind future generations of the moral stakes of human conflict — that tyranny must never again go unchallenged. In this way, every true historian becomes not a clerk of facts, but a keeper of conscience.

Yet Mather’s quote also bears a warning. For if history contains both praise and blame, then its telling is never free from the values of those who tell it. To record the past is to choose what to illuminate and what to shadow. The risk, then, is not only in forgetting, but in distorting — in rewriting history to justify power or prejudice. Every tyrant has sought to silence the chroniclers who would condemn them; every free people has preserved the voices that speak truth. Thus, Mather’s wisdom calls us to vigilance: to honor history not as propaganda, but as a dialogue with truth. We must praise with justice and blame with understanding, lest the lessons of the past become weapons of deceit.

But beyond scholarship and statecraft, Mather’s insight speaks to the moral life of every soul. Each of us is a maker of history, whether our deeds echo in nations or only in the quiet corridors of family and community. What will the story of our lives contain — praise for our kindness, or blame for our indifference? When we act, we write upon the scroll of time, and generations yet unborn will live with the consequences of what we build or destroy. To remember this is to live with moral awareness, to act not merely for ourselves but for those who will someday read the story we leave behind.

So, dear listener, let this teaching dwell in your heart: history is judgment remembered. Do not treat it as a dry recitation of names and dates, but as the living voice of humanity calling to you from the past. Study it to learn what deserves your admiration, and what deserves your caution. Praise those who rose above fear and selfishness, and learn from those who fell into cruelty or pride. And in your own life, act in such a way that when the story of your days is told, it will be written not with blame, but with praise.

For as Cotton Mather reminds us, history is not merely what happened — it is the moral record of our becoming. Let us then strive to become worthy of remembrance, and may our actions stand as bright chapters in the eternal book of time.