Greece did not expire. The sons of Greece caught new life from desperation; the plague of the Turkish arms was stayed; till the governments followed, where the people had led the way, and the war, which was sustained by the literary and religious sympathies of the friends of art and science, was brought to a triumphant close, by the armies and navies of Europe: and there they now stand, the first great reconquest of modern civilization.

"Many, I doubt not, who hear me, have had the pleasure, within a few weeks, of receiving a Greek oration, pronounced in the temple of Theseus, on the reception at Athens of the first official act of the young Christian prince, under whom the government of this interesting country is organized. What contemplations does it not awaken, to behold a youthful Bavarian prince, deputed by the great powers of Europe, to go, with the guaranties of letters, religion, and the arts, to the city of Minerva, which had reached the summit of human civilization, ages before Bavaria had emerged from the depths of the Black Forest! One can almost imagine the shades of the great of other days, the patriots and warriors, the philosophers and poets, the historians and orators, rising from their renowned graves, to greet the herald of their country's restoration. One can almost fancy that the sacred dust of the Ceramicus must kindle into life as he draws near; that the sides of Delphi and Parnassus, and the banks of the Ilissus, must swarm with the returning spirits of ancient times. Yes! Marathon and Thermopylæ are moved to meet him at his coming, - martyrs of liberty, names that shall never die, - Solon and Pericles, Socrates and Phocion, not now with their cups of hemlock in their hands, but with the deep lines of their living cares effaced from their serene brows, at the head of that glorious company of poets, sages, artists, and heroes, which the world has never equalled, descend the famous road from the Acropolis to the sea, to bid the Deliverer welcome to the land of glory and the arts. 'Remember,' they cry, 'Oh, Prince the land thou art set to rule; it is the soil of freedom. Remember the great and wise of old, in whose place thou art called to stand, the fathers of liberty; remember the precious blood which has wet these sacred fields; pity the bleeding remnants of what was once so grand and fair; respect these timeworn and venerable ruins; raise up the fallen columns of these beautiful fanes, and consecrate them to the Heavenly Wisdom; restore the banished muses to their native seat; be the happy instrument, in the hand of Heaven, of enthroning letters, and liberty, and religion, on the summits of our ancient hills; and pay back the debt of the civilized world to reviving, regenerated Greece. So shall the blessing of those ready to perish come

upon thee, and ages after the vulgar train of conquerors and princes is forgotten, thou shalt be remembered, as the youthful Restorer of Greece.' pp. 25-27.

We fully sympathize with Mr. Everett in his views of the progress of society. The subject is one of deep and overwhelming interest, and it is one which has scarcely yet received the attention it deserves. We have a few words to say on this head, the purport of which will be to present in as strong a light as possible, the evidence of a progressive tendency in society, and to show that this tendency is in its nature illimit

able.

It has been often and anxiously asked, whether the world is on the whole improving, whether mankind are actually advancing in civilization, or only fluctuating between definite bounds of light and darkness, whether the face of society, like the surface of the earth, is destined to exhibit, through the whole course of time, nothing but a succession of day and night, or whether, like the face of the waxing moon, it is to be marked with a constantly increasing lustre, until the whole extent is completely enlightened. And if we adopt the latter faith, from what indications in the history of the past or the passing, do we infer this progressive destination? A celebrated philosopher of modern times endeavoured to solve this question in favor of humanity by a very ingenious interpretation of a popular sentiment which prevai'ed in his day.* The universal interest which the nations of Europe manifested in the issue of the French Revolution, might, he maintained, be justly considered as the evidence of a disinterested love of justice and liberty, as a pure zeal for the true and the good, as the expression of a genuine interest in the cause of humanity. If mankind, he argued, are, at any one time, capable of this sentiment, if, without concert or agreement, it is sounded forth, at the same time, with one voice, from all quarters of the civilized globe, it must be an element in human nature; if it is an element in human nature, it is the pledge of a capacity for improvement, which was not implanted for nothing, which must have its end and

* See Kant's Vermischte Schriften, Vol. III. Erneuerte Frage: Ob das Menschengeschlecht im beständigen Fortschreiten zum Bessern

sey.

object, which must, in short, be regarded as the promise of an indefinite progress in knowledge and happiness. If we were asked to select from among the examples and events of our own times, a similar token and a like promise, we should point to the interest which is now manifested in the cause of popular education, we should point to the Lyceums and other popular institutions of the day, as the surest pledge which the times afford of the progress of society. We should fix upon these institutions, not for the effects they have already produced, or are likely to produce, not because we believe they are to do much for the advancement of mankind. If any institution could be judged by its effects alone, this test would not be applicable to such as are but of yesterday, and whose very existence is as yet a doubtful experiment. No, we should select these institutions, not as a sure foundation of social improvement, but as the sure expression of a very important sentiment. That sentiment is respect for knowledge. The distinctness and publicity, with which it is expressed, proves its popularity; and its popularity, while it furnishes a presumption that the object of the sentiment has already become an object of vigorous pursuit, may be regarded as the pledge of an onward tendency in the human mind, to which, if it be not in its nature unlimited, no earthly limit can be assigned. In an age and country in which freedom of opinion is so unbounded as it is at present with us, where the social feeling is so strong, and the means of social influence so extensive, popular institutions are the natural expression of every sentiment which relates to the welfare of society. Every truth, in order to become a practical truth, must pass into outward manifestation, and have its standing form in the community, otherwise it remains the exclusive property of individual minds. It was necessary that the value of knowledge, the beauty of temperance, and the sacredness of charity, in order to become universally felt and acknowledged, should be expressed in public institutions. But let us not expect too much from these institutions; let us not place in them a confidence which they do not deserve, nor look to them for an efficacy which they do not possess. Let them not be regarded as so much machinery, possessing a definite power over the public mind. The human mind is not a mass of inert matter to obey implicitly any foreign impulse, or to yield passively to any system of education.

Let

it be remembered that these institutions are not the sources but the effects of social improvement. They are merely expressions of the thoughts and purposes of the day, the guage by which we determine the measure of truth already attained. The form cannot go beyond the idea which it embodies. The tree can yield no more than was implied in the seed; it can produce only according to its kind. Enough that in the fruit which it produces according to its kind, the seed is reproduced and perpetuated; enough that a careful culture may improve the color and flavor of the fruit: the limits of such improvement are given in the nature of things, -the uttermost culture cannot exceed those limits, and produce fruit of another and a nobler kind. If public institutions did not partake of the nature of an effect rather than of a cause, if they were the source and not the result of truth, the efficacy of each institution would be boundless; for truth itself is boundless, and the cause must needs be greater than the effect. In that case, the world would have been where it is now a thousand years ago. There were excellent institutions of learning in the eighth century. The Emperor Charlemagne established schools and seminaries of education throughout his dominions, on a scale as extensive, as liberal, and as wise, as any in modern times. But so far from advancing mankind at once to that degree of intelligence which should teach them so to prize the benefits of education, as never again to forfeit them, the magnificent creations of that wonderful man scarcely survived the age of their founder; they declined at his decease, and went to wreck in the hands of his followers. The world is undoubtedly advancing, and popular institutions are contributing to its advancement; but we shall err greatly, if we expect them to hasten perceptibly the tide of improvement. Society is moving onward, but with no giant st ides. Truth and moral liber y, the great interests of humanity, are gaining upon the dominion of ignorance and crime; but it is as the continent gains on the barren ocean; slowly and reluctantly the mighty element retires, not years, but centuries, chronicle its tardy ebb; and still, as the huge mass rolls back upon itself, groaning and heaving with all its surges, and with each repulse gathering itself up for a new rebound, it will chance that many a random billow still da-hes up to the ancient flood-mark. Meanwhile, impatient of this slow retreat, we build our dykes,

and sink our piles, and push our newly-acquired territory as far as possible into the receding waters. In other words, we establish institutions to fix and perpetuate the acquisitions and improvements of our age. And we do well if we do not ascribe to these outworks a value which does not belong to them. As bulwarks and defences they are all-important, they are necessary to secure what has thus far been reclaimed, to make sure the dominion we have already gained over ignorance and error; but we look for too much, if we expect them to extend, in any great degree, the limits of that dominion.

It has been maintained by some, that the progress of society is necessarily limited; that the bounds of civilization are distinctly marked; that they have already, in several instances, been attained, or very nearly approached. This is inferred from the fact, that many individuals and states, and many departments of the human intellect, among the nations. of antiquity, have attained a degree of refinement and perfection which has never been surpassed, or even equalled, in modern times; and furthermore, from the fact that all nations, after a certain degree of culture, have uniformly declined, and a savage people and a barbarous age succeeded. The supporters of this doctrine point us to the turning crises in the history of nations; they bid us mark the ebbing tide of wealth, refinement, and social improvement, and tell us that such is the destination of society to the end of time. The error which lies at the foundation of this doctrine, consists in not accurately distinguishing between the progress of society, and the advancement of a single people, or the perfection of the individual mind. There can be no doubt that individual minds and particular provinces of genius have, in repeated instances, reached the highest degree of earthly perfection, and attained to a power and glory which will never be surpassed. It is probable that single nations have advanced to the uttermost limits of national power and glory; and it is certain, that the outward aspect of society, so far from displaying a constant and uniform increase of culture and refinement, has exhibited thus far only a constant succession of light and darkness. Alternate civilization and barbarism make up the apparent history of man. Nevertheless, society, we believe, has always been moving onward. Notwithstanding the perpetual flux and reflux which appears

VOL. XVI. N. S. VOL. XI. NO. I.

2