resistlestly along, swelling, deep, with scattered whirlpools and foam scarcely visible on its vast surface, seemingly calm at a short distance, but, to those who look near, agitated, angry, full of unstemable currents and boiling motion. He had profoundly studied human nature, chiefly, of course, as it developes itself in free states, and, better than any man, knew by what motives it may, in spite of corruption and degeneracy, be impelled to strenuous action, though but for a brief space. His language, flashing through the moral gloom around him, called forth bright reflections from whatever was brilliant or polished, and kindled the fragments of patriotic emotions into a flame. If genius could regenerate, could pour the blood of youth into the veins of age, could substitute loftiness of sentiment, heroic daring, disinterested love of country, religious faith, spirituality, for sensual self-indulgence, for sordid avarice, for a base distrust in Providence, Demosthenes had renewed the youth of Athens. The spirit of the old democratic constitution breathes through all his periods. He stands upon the last defence of the republican world, when all else had been carried, the representative of a noble but perished race, fighting gallantly, though in vain, to preserve that fragment sacred from the foot of the spoiler. The passion and the power of democracy seem concentrated in him. He unites in his character all the richest gifts of nature under the guidance of the most consummate art, and, doubtless, Hume was right when he said that, of all? human productions, his works approach the nearest to perfection.

Beyond this point it is irksome to proceed in our view of Grecian literature, which, after the battle of Cheronæa, was overshadowed by despotism and dwindled gradually into insignificance. Not that genius wholly and suddenly disappeared. The soil of Hellenic intellect was not entirely exhausted, but the fruit it bore was comparatively insipid. A courtly

stamp was set upon every thing. Men no longer obeyed their genuine impulses. It was dangerous generally, and always profitless to be frank and manly. Instead of addressing themselves to the healthy natural sympathies of the people, writers servilely laboured by conceit and flattery to wring reluctant patronage from princes. The spirit of affectation, accordingly, for the first time made its appearance. Men tortured their ingenuity to invent smart things. Enthusiasm and passion and earnestness, characteristics all of popular writers, are never fashionable among courtiers, who consider sincerity vulgar, and hypocrisy a virtue. In the later Greek writers, therefore, who all wrote for some court or other, we discover the usual frigidity and extravagance which invariably deform the literature of such states. Along with these faults, others also are found far more pernicious: the inculcation of selfishness, gross sensuality, base maxims, a depraved taste. Man in the savage state is a garden in which noxious weeds and the most beautiful flowers and useful plants grow together; civilised and free, he is the same garden cleared, as far as possible, of its weeds; but, when verging a second time into barbarism, the weeds again become luxuriant, and entirely choke or conceal the flowers. And thus too it is in literature. In the literatures of Greece, Rome, and modern Italy we can now contemplate the complete process; in our own, a part only, how great a partit is not here my business to inquire.

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CHAPTER XI.

SPIRIT OF THE GRECIAN RELIGION.

WHETHER the Greeks received their earliest system of philosophy from the East, as is commonly believed, or themselves invented it, as to me seems most probable, there can I think be little doubt that once engaged in philosophical speculations they exhibited in the pursuit a degree of boldness and originality, a patience of research, a power of combination rarely if ever equalled in succeeding times. For some ages, it is true, from the days of Thales down to those of Socrates (B. c. 600 to B. c. 450) physical investigations and researches chiefly occupied the philosophers of Greece. They conceived it to be within the power of man to discover the nature of the principal elements which compose the world, and the laws that regulated its formation. The origin

1 Cf. Diog. Laert. Pr. iii. 4. ̓Αρχαῖος μὲν οὖν τις λόγος καὶ πάτριος ἐστὶ πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις, ὡς ἐκ Θεοῦ τὰ πάντα, καὶ διὰ Θεοῦ ἡμῖν συνέστηκεν. Aristot. de Mund. c. 6. In c. 7. we have a curious list of the various epithets of Zeus, whose name the PseudoAristotle conceives to signify the root of all existence: ὡς καν εἰ λέγοιμεν, δι ὄν ζῶμεν. This thought St. Paul expresses by the well-known words-" in whom "we live and move and have our "being." The author of the Treatise De Mundo then quotes from the Orphic fragments a passage, the doctrine of which strongly resembles the Pantheism of Pope :

likewise of the human race, of which nothing is yet known but that which has been revealed, naturally awakened their curiosity and led to many theories wild and fantastic in the extreme.

Into any consideration of these it is not my design to enter; but the Greeks had another philosophy, which, resting on the basis of theology, comprehended religion, morals, and politics, and may be regarded as the instrument, the soul, and the measure of their civilisation. It seems to be a truth frequently overlooked, that man is civilised exactly in proportion as he is religious; at least this was the case in Greece, where the highest developement of the national mind concurred in Socrates and Plato with the utmost developement of the religious instinct, and began immediately to decline in Aristotle and his successors, arriving at the lowest degradation among the grovelling sophists of the lower empire. This division of philosophy occupied among the Greeks the place, which in modern times is assigned to religion, that is, it was their guide through this life, and their preparation for a better. It may, indeed, be regarded as the spiritual part of paganism, teaching man his duties, and explaining the grounds and motives which should lead to their performance.

There is one article of faith without which no religion can of course exist-the belief in God. Devoid of this, it may be doubted whether an individual or a nation ought not rather to be classed

1 "Do good to all," an evangelical precept (Plat. Rep. i. § 9. p. 33.

Stallb.), forming part of that philosophy which taught the Greeks what was honourable and what base, what just and what unjust, what was above all things to be desired and what avoided, how they were to demean themselves towards the gods, towards their parents, their elders, the laws,

strangers, magistrates, friends, wives, children, slaves: to wit, that they were to reverence the gods, honour their parents, respect their elders, obey the laws, love their friends, be affectionate. to their wives, solicitous for their children, compassionate towards their slaves. Plut. de Educ. Puer. $10.

among the inferior animals than among men. It is superfluous, therefore, to say that the Greeks, preëminently endowed with the highest attributes of humanity, were a religious people, and held firmly all the doctrines which entitle a people to such an appellation. From their ancestors, the Pelasgi,' they inherited a pure and lofty theism, which seems to have always continued to be the religion of the more enlightened; while among the mass of the people, this central truth of religion was gradually surrounded by a constantly expanding atmosphere of fable, which obscured its brightness, and in a great measure concealed its form. Mr. Mitford, whose acute and philosophical mind clearly discerned this verity, also seems to have understood the cause. "A firm belief both in the existence of the Deity, and "in the duty of communication with him, appears "to have prevailed universally in the early ages. "But religion was then the common care of all "men, a sacerdotal order was unknown." 2

The institution of an order of priests, however effected, almost necessarily corrupted the simple truths of religion, but it is unphilosophical in the highest degree to consider those ancient priests as impostors on this account, or to speak of their propagation of error as craft. Meditating, in seclusion and solitude, on the few truths which had come down to them by tradition or been discovered by reason, they soon bewildered their own wits, and wandered into superstition.3 As was too natural, they conceived that the Divinity must be desirous of giving them signs, marking what was to be done and what avoided. The mistake of concomitance for causation, often made in more learned and refined ages, would

1 Herod. ii. 52.

2 History of Greece, i. 97. Dioscorides in Athenæus observes that no sacrifice is so acceptable to the gods as that which is offered up by members of a family

living in unison.-i. 15. In the earliest ages of the world the firstborn of every family was esteemed a prophet.-Godwin, Moses et Aaron, i. 6. 2.

3 Plato, Crit. t. vii. 146.