tion of castes, which would be appropriate and good for them who were not ripe enough to be trusted with the choice of their own employments; in their literature, for the literature of eastern men comes to the nurseries and play-rooms of Europe and finds a fitting home there; and in many particulars of their religion, philosophy, and social life, to which we cannot pause even to allude, we may find much that becomes at once explicable and fitting, if we remember that we are looking on the childhood of humanity.

Then may we fancy that in Greece we have reached its youth. Mr. Eliot regards the love of the beautiful as the distinguishing characteristic of that nation; but it seems to us a false ingenuity which would explain Sparta and Thermopyla by a love of the beautiful. There are two passions of youth, both vehement and irrepressible, the love of the beautiful and the love of combat. As yet untaught and undisciplined, the love of beauty is only of that external beauty which filled with the miracles of art that Athens of which a fine thinker said, that religion there was only one among the fine arts. And its love of combat was that love of fighting for its own sake which made Sparta a mere encampment, but could not make her a great conqueror. Athens and Sparta were Greece, because they impersonated these two great passions of untamed youth.

And then Alexander, who seems almost the incarnation of the Grecian character, conquered the East. With him was Aristotle, who conquered the eastern mind, and began that system of exact and methodical inquiry and knowledge, which has never since permitted the old oriental sublimity and obscurity to be what it once was, the religion, philosophy, and poetry of mankind all in one.

And so was our race prepared for the coming of its manhood; for Rome. There was an energy not less vigorous than that of Greece, but strengthened by the foresight, the persistence, and the guidance of the present by a steady look to a far future, which are not the attributes of youth, and were not of Greece. It went forth step by step, and in its centuries conquered a dominion but little wider than Alexander won in twelve years, but a dominion that lasted its centuries, and slowly fell.

And here our fancy is exhausted, and this same analogy 13

VOL. LXX.

NO. 146.

fails, unless we look upon the feudal ages as the decline of this period, and upon ourselves, who are witnessing the last dying throes of feudal institutions, as living at the close of one great cycle of humanity, or rather at the beginning of another, which may also have its youth, its manhood, and its decline. This fancy will be welcome to many, because it tells us, that we constitute and are, as it were, the beginning of an era; and that in this country, man is to begin to live anew. And national vanity will be flattered by remembering the fact, which, however inexplicable, is at least as undeniable, that from the beginning, the course of empire has ever been westward. From the East to Greece, thence to Rome, and thence to the western shores of an old world, where it waited until a new one should be discovered; and then, bounding over the ocean, the dominion of the world, or the chief seat of those principles which are to be henceforth sovereign throughout the world, is to be established in the new home that is now limited in the east and west only by the two great oceans of the globe. Then will it have completed its circuit, and at its next remove must return to the place of its beginning. Very easy is it to indulge such fancies as these; still easier is it, to nurse the vanity and self-complacency for which such fancies are the fitting nutriment. Suppose them to be true, or to have some foundation of truth; suppose that with our nation a new era begins, characterized by the possession of a completed liberty; of that blessing for which blood and tears have freely flowed in all ages, and which has ever stood before the eyes of struggling and suffering humanity, as the end for which it was well to strive and suffer to the last limit of endurance, as the hope which was great enough to sustain the courage of mankind through perpetual conflict, and to cheer them through the strife and the pain of their pilgrimage. What then? Why do we forget that, before we learn how to use this blessing, coming generations must pass through a new perhaps a far more wasting and desolate series of efforts and of conflicts, of errors and of punishments. That liberty has come to mankind at last, so large that it can be made no larger, is certain. That we are unprepared for it, that we are in danger of making enormous mistakes in relation to it, that we shall strive to make it the slave of selfishness until bitter suffering shall teach us and

succeeding ages better things by long and oft repeated admonitions, seems now to thinking men, we believe, generally, at least as certain.

Of the moral tone of Mr. Eliot's work we cannot speak too highly. From the beginning to the end it is profoundly religious; but upon no page and in no sentence, is there a word of cant. The very idea and purpose of the book were inspired by a deep conviction of providential government, and by a belief which is borne like a torch through the mazes of the past, that every occurrence was caused or permitted for an end, and would teach us that end if our ears were open to the lesson. There are those who will complain of the author's enthusiasm; that it never masters him, that strong as it is, a stronger reason ever goes with it, and that it never degenerates into wild phantasy, will not excuse it with such readers, nor would we blame them very heartily; for an honest and earnest, yet rational, enthusiasm is so rare in these days, that one may be pardoned who believes it impossible.

The learning employed in this work, gathered for it and exhibited in it, is very remarkable. The notes show a very wide reading, and a power of getting aid and illustration from the most improbable quarters. Before we read the work, we observed the quantity of notes, and the variety of reference, and a suspicion arose that there was some parade in this. But it soon passed away. There is no display; but in all sincerity, the acquisitions of years of well-directed industry are brought fairly and without violence-into the service of the writer. Indeed, in some of the notes, interesting topics are touched too lightly, and apparently from the fear, that if more were said, the author might seem to try to make the most of them.

The great fault of the book is its obscurity; and it is a very great fault. It seems to arise from two causes. The views and thoughts are often very original, and have not yet been matured in the mind of the author. It is unfortunate for the book, that a part has been thus published prematurely ; for we believe that if it had been kept until, through years of study and investigation, the work had been finished, this beginning would have been re-written in the light of the whole. But we are not sure that it is unfortunate for the author. won a high place in the literature of our country.

He has

He has

produced a work which implies a combination of uncommon abilities, of great industry, and of a very singular capacity for unfailing devotion to a great purpose. The approbation he has received, and must receive, will sustain him. He will go on, and complete his work; of that, if he lives we have no doubt; and just as little, that every step which he takes will be a step in advance.

But it is obscure for another reason; and that is, a style very faulty, or rather very often faulty, in this respect. It is not direct enough; it is often allusive and suggestive, precisely where the author should speak most plainly - should labor to speak plainly. There will be a series of facts and observations, intelligible enough, and then a paragraph summing up the results, which it is hard to understand. Take, for instance, the following paragraph, which we have not selected, but found by opening the book almost at hazard. Others may easily be pointed out more obscure, and many others far less so; and this would be plainer, if read in its proper connection; but as it is, it will serve to show our meaning:

"At the same time that the growth of society was helped by the rivalry and activity amongst the nations of Greece, its natural offspring was conceived. The lower orders not only became of consequence to the higher, but, as warfare continued and civilization dilated, they rose, themselves, towards and to the higher, while new classes were brought from hitherto silent shores to cover the ocean upheaving with strength and hope. Henceforth the fitness of man for freedom was determined; and beings trampled in the dust, above which they were supposed incapable to lift their faces, much more their souls, were recognized as having their portion, also, in humanity. It must be plainly added, that these were results in their beginning only; but the beginning was the boon most desirable to mankind. The course of ancient history brightens with increasing liberty; yet liberty, though the inspiration of progress, was, as we may see hereafter, the forerunner of that humiliation in which heathenism departed and Christianity appeared."- Vol. I. p. 111.

There is often great beauty in a suggestive style; but it is when one thing, whether thought or fact, is presented with perfect clearness, but the thing itself, or the manner of its presentation, suggests many other things. But a suggestive style is very bad, which only suggests. How few writers, how very few readers, are aware of the potent charm of a

perfectly direct and transparent style. A very large part of Prescott's fame, which seems now to be as well established in England as at home, rests upon his merit in this respect. You do not stop to admire its brilliancy, or its force, or precision, or any other excellence; you do not stop at all; you are borne along by the gentle current of his language, and give yourself up to the pleasure of such progress. It is indeed so pleasant to glide along a clear stream which breaks only into smiles, that the happy voyager sometimes sees great beauty in what is often but the very common scenery of the banks. We do not of course mean that Prescott thus seduces us into undeserved admiration; but we began the figure which is, after all, rather a poor one,- for the purpose of saying, that be the beauty of the shores never so great and never so new, one must be a passionate lover of the picturesque who can appreciate it fully, while his course is tortuous and interrupted, and sometimes he is compelled to take the oar and work his passage. There are many sentences in Mr. Eliot's book which we have studied with some diligence, and are now by no means sure that we understand them.

And this is provoking, because it is so entirely his own fault, or at least, a misfortune easily avoided. Indeed, it lessens as you go on, and the last half of his second volume is, in addition to its other merits, almost easy reading. But we say it is entirely his own fault, because he labors under nothing like disability in the matter of style. It is generally rich, glowing, and impressive; and there are many passages, and long ones too, of which the beauty is high and consummate, and wholly unimpaired. But instead of talking more about the style of this work, let us give our readers an opportunity to judge for themselves. And for this purpose, we give them the closing chapter.

Before quoting it, however, let us sum up the opinions we have somewhat discursively expressed. This work is singularly learned, full of original and important views and valuable instruction, perfect in its moral and religious tone, and generally beautiful, sometimes extremely beautiful, in style. But the thoughts are occasionally immature, and give the impression, that with all the author's zeal and industry they have not yet been fully studied; and the work is marred