fully stimulated (as was the corresponding era of Kant and Wieland), by the French Revolution. This last volcanic eruption of the British genius has displayed enormous power and splendour. Let malice and the base detraction of contemporary jealousy say what it will, greater originality of genius, more expansive variety of talent, never was exhibited than in our own country since the year 1793. Every mode of excellence, except only dramatic excellence (in which we have nothing modern to place by the side of Schiller's Wallenstein), has been revealed in dazzling lustre. And he that denies it, may he be suffocated by his own bilious envy! 63. But the point upon which we wish to fix the reader's attention in citing this interesting observation of the Roman officer, and the reason for which we have cited it at all, is not so much for the mere fact of these spring-tides occurring in the manifestations of human genius, intermitting pulses (so to speak) in human energies, as the psychological peculiarity which seems to affect the cycle of their recurrences. Paterculus occupies himself chiefly with the causes of such phenomena; and one main cause he suggests as lying in the emulation which possesses men when once a specific direction has been impressed upon the public competitions. This no doubt is one of the causes. But a more powerful cause perhaps lies in a principle of union than in any principle of division amongst men, — viz. in the principle of sympathy. The great Italian painters, for instance, were doubtless evoked in such crowds by the action of this principle. To hear the buzz of idolizing admiration settling for years upon particular works of art and artists kindles something better than merely the ambition and rivalship of men; it kindles feelings happier and more favourable to excellence, viz. genial love and comprehension of the qualities fitted to stir so profound and lasting an emotion. This contagion of sympathy runs electrically through society, searches high and low for congenial powers, and suffers none to lurk unknown to the possessor. A vortex is created which draws into its suction whatever is liable to a similar action. But, not to linger upon this question of causes, what we wish to place under the reader's eye is rather the peculiar type which belongs to these revolutions of national intellect, according to the place which each occupies in the order of succession. Possibly it would seem an over-refinement if we were to suggest that the odd terms in the series indicate creative energies, and the even terms reflective energies; and we are far enough from affecting the honours of any puerile hypothesis. But, in a general way, it seems plausible and reasonable that there will be alternating successions of power in the first place, and next of reaction upon that power from the reflective faculties. It does seem natural that first of all should blossom the energies of creative power, and in the next era of the literature, when the consciousness has been brightened to its own agencies, will be likely to come forward the re-agencies of the national mind on what it has created. The period of meditation will succeed to the period of production. Or, if the energies of creation are again partially awake, finding themselves forestalled as regards the grander passions, they will be likely to settle upon the feebler elements of manners. Social differences will now fix the attention by way of substitute for the bolder differences of nature. Should a third period, after the swing of the pendulum through an arch of centuries, succeed for the manifestation of the national genius, it is possible that the long interval since the inaugural era of creative art will have so changed all the elements of society and the aspects of life as to restore the mind to much of its infant freedom; it may no longer feel the captivity of an imitative spirit in dealing with the very same class of creations as exercised its earliest powers. The original national genius may now come forward in perfectly new forms without the sense of oppression from inimitable models. The hoar of ages may have withdrawn some of these models from active competition. And thus it may not be impossible that oscillations between the creative and reflective energies of the mind might go on through a cycle of many ages.1 64. In our own literature we see this scheme of oscillations illustrated. In the Shakspere period we see the fulness of life and the enormity of power throwing up a tropical exuberance of vegetation. A century afterwards we see a generation of men lavishly endowed with genius, but partly degraded by the injurious training of a most profligate era growing out of great revolutionary convulsions, and partly lowered in the tone of their aspirations by a despair of rivalling the great creations of their predecessors. We see them universally acquiescing in humbler modes of ambition; showing sometimes a corresponding merit to that of their greatest forefathers, but merit (if sometimes equal) yet equal upon a lower scale. Thirdly, In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries we see a new birth of original genius, of which it is not lawful to affirm any absolute inferiority even by comparison with the Shaksperian age of Titans. For whatsoever is strictly and thoroughly original, being sui generis, cannot be better or worse than any other model of excellence which is also original. One animal structure compared with another of a different class is equally good and perfect. One valley which is no copy of another, but has a separate and peculiar beauty, cannot be compared for any purpose of disad 1 For discussions of the principles of literary evolution, see Brunetière, 'L'Évolution des genres dans l'histoire de la littérature,' I., pp. 1–31; Posnett, Comparative Literature'; L. Stephen, 'History of Thought in the Eighteenth Century,' Vol. I., pp. 1-19; Symonds, 'Essays Speculative and Suggestive,' Vol. I., pp. 1–83; Carriere, ‘Die Kunst im Zusammenhang der Culturentwickelung.' vantage with another. One poem which is composed upon a law of its own, and has a characteristic or separate beauty of its own, cannot be inferior to any other poem whatsoever. The class, the order, may be inferior; the scale may be a lower one; but the individual work, the degree of merit marked upon the scale must be equal, if only the poem is equally original. In all such cases understand, ye miserable snarlers at contemporary merit, that the puerile goût de comparaison (as La Bruyère calls it) is out of place; universally you cannot affirm any imparity where the ground is preoccupied by disparity. Where there is no parity of principle there is no basis for comparison. iii. The Two Great Periods of Grecian Literature. 65. Now, passing, with the benefit of these explanations, to Grecian Literature, we may observe that there were in that field of human intellect no more than two developments of power from first to last. And, perhaps, the unlearned reader (for it is to the praise and honour of a powerful journal that it has the unlearned equally with the learned amongst its readers) will thank us for here giving him, in a very few words, such an account of the Grecian Literature in its periods of manifestation, and in the relations existing between these periods, that he shall not easily forget them. 66. There were, in illustration of the Roman aide-decamp's doctrine, two groups or clusters of Grecian wits, 1 "The Roman aide-de-camp's": - Excuse, reader, this modern phrase: by what other is it possible to express the relation to Tiberius, and the military office about his person, which Paterculus held on the German frontier? In the 104th chapter of his second book he says—“ Hoc tempus me, functum ante tribunatu castrorum, Tib. Cæsaris militem fecit"; which in our version is "This epoch placed me, who had previously discharged the duties of camp-marshal, upon the staff of Cæsar." And he goes on to say that, having been made a brigadier-general of cavalry (alæ præfectus) under two depositions or stratifications of the national genius; and these were about a century apart. What makes them specially rememberable is the fact that each of these brilliant clusters had gathered separately about that man as central pivot who, even apart from this relation to the literature, was otherwise the leading spirit of his age. It is important for our purpose it will be interesting, even without that purpose, for the reader - to notice the distinguishing character or marks by which the two clusters are separately recognised; the marks both personal and chronological. As to the personal distinctions, we have said that in each case severally the two men who offered the nucleus to the gathering happened to be otherwise the most eminent and splendid men of the period. Who were they? The one was PERICLES, the other was ALEXANDER OF MACEDON. Except Themistocles, who may be ranked as senior to Pericles by just one generation (or thirty-three years),1 in the whole deduction of Grecian annals no other a commission which dated from the very day of Cæsar's adoption into the Imperial house and the prospect of succession, so that the two acts of grace ran concurrently, — thenceforwards "per annos continuos IX præfectus aut legatus, spectator, et pro captu mediocritatis meæ adjutor, fui"; or, as I beg to translate, "through a period of nine consecutive years from this date, I acted either as military lieutenant to Cæsar, or as ministerial secretary" (such we hold to be the true virtual equivalent of præfectus; i.e. speaking fully, of præfectus prætorio), "acting simultaneously as inspector of the public works" (bridges and vast fortifications on the northeast German frontier), “and (to the best capacity of my slender faculties) as his personal aide-de-camp." Possibly the reader may choose to give a less confined or professional meaning to the word adjutor. But, in apology, we must suggest two cautions to him: 1st, That elsewhere Paterculus does certainly apply the term as a military designation, bearing a known technical meaning; and, 2d, That this word adjutor, in other non-military uses, as for instance on the stage, had none but a technical meaning. -DE Q. 1 This is too much to allow for a generation in those days, when the average duration of life was much less than at present; but, as an exceedingly convenient allowance (since thrice 33} is just equal to a century), it may be allowedly used in all cases not directly bearing on technical questions of civil economy. Meantime, as we love to suppose ourselves in all |