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writers and the poets. Among the chief Greek prose writers, I suppose you would enumerate the following: Herodotus, Thucydides, Xenophon, Polybius, Diodorus Siculus, Dionysius Halicarnassus, Arrian, Appian, Herodian, Lucian, Plutarch, and Demosthenes; and amongst the principal Roman prose writers these: C. Nepos, Cæsar, Sallust, Velleius Paterculus, Quintus Curtius, Petronius, Cicero, Livy, Tacitus, Suetonius, and Justin. Let us look at this cluster of celebrated men, and try them by the standard of Cicero; there is not one among them who is not fully entitled to a high place on the scale of intellect; but considerable difficulty stands in the way of an accurate estimate of their several claims, on the ground of moral greatness. Little is known concerning some of them, beyond what may be gathered from their works, which, in several instances, have been largely mutilated. This mutilation, however, is of less consequence in relation to my present object, in the case of prose writers than of poets; for the moral image of the former is in general far less distinctly reflected by their pages, than that of the latter.

Of the Greeks just mentioned there is not one, excepting Plutarch, entitled to any very high consideration on the ground of moral greatness. Plutarch, all things included, was a great, a very great man; but even his greatness was speculative rather than practical, intellectual rather than moral, as his writings were. He was nevertheless profoundly skilled in the knowledge of human nature; and understood, as well as exemplified, the principles of moral greatness.. Of this his letter to Trajan affords a beautiful illustration. He thus lays down the rule of imperial duty: "Let your government commence in your own breast; and lay the foundation

of it in the command of your passions." What a lesson to teach the ruler of the world! Herodotus, with all his credulity, was a man of many virtues, but we can hardly call him great. Xenophon was the Addison of Greece; but Addison was not great. Thucydides and Polybius were both men of vast intellectual power; yet they were both wanting in the leading elements of moral greatness. The rest were still more deficient. No exception can be made in behalf of Demosthenes. He excelled in no one moral quality. He was, in fact, neither patriot, philanthropist, nor philosopher. He was merely a speaker; a marvellous, a matchless orator.

Of the Roman writers above enumerated, we cannot speak more favourably than of the Greeks. C. Nepos and Sallust were both at best but elegant triflers, who have procured immortality on easy terms. Indeed, the whole of these authors together did not comprise half so much real moral greatness as Numa. Would it not, then, be preposterous to compare them with any genuine Christian philanthropist, and still more with a Christian missionary, and that missionary, John Williams! They were all wanting-and all greatly, although not all equally wanting-in the first principles of moral greatness. Even Cicero, whose genius placed him at the head of the splendid assemblage, was extremely defective in every thing required by his own definition. He was vanity itself, and weak as woman! His moral, were utterly disproportionate to his mental, powers. Never, perhaps, did one of the human race exhibit so much genius, so many talents, such an amount of intellectual culture, and such a mass of literary acquirements, in combination with so much imbecility!

When we inquire into the moral and intellectual

greatness of the ancients, we labour under several disadvantages. Multitudes of magnanimous spirits, of whom there is no record, have appeared in our world. The reason is obvious. The highest form of magnanimity is active benevolence, which has but seldom been allied to literary tastes and habits. Persons thus distinguished, therefore, have not often recorded their own actions; and men of letters, whose province it was to confer immortality, having, for the most part, but little sympathy with the pursuits of the benevolent, have but too generally disregarded them. It is the most remarkable fact in the history of ancient literature, that even Socrates, the father of gentile philosophy,' the patriarch of pagan magnanimity, left no writings behind him. We owe all our knowledge of him to his illustrious disciples, who have embalmed the memory of his actions, lessons, wrongs, and death. Speaking generally, the most magnanimous portion of the Greeks and Romans were not literary; and the most literary portions of the Greeks and Romans were not magnanimous. The result is, that a multitude of characters, more or less magnanimous, have been buried in oblivion. Genuine magnanimity has rarely found a faithful historian of its deeds and glory. Upon a large scale, however, it has seldom courted the historian's attention. War, all-devouring war, has been the staple of history! Withdraw from both the prose and the poetry of ancient times all that appertains to war, and what remains? That peculiar cast of intellect which delights in study, and is necessary to high achievements in literature, has not often been combined with such measures of moral feeling, of active principle, and of constitutional vigour, as are necessary to great efficiency in benevolent exertion. Polybius is

an example to my purpose. He was in several respects the Gibbon of his age, vast in view, powerful in reason, cold in affection, and deeply tainted with impiety. Nearly the same terms may be applied to Thucydides. Livy was a man of fine taste, of fine temper, of wide comprehension, and of a genius more akin to civil than to military pursuits, the Robertson of Rome; but he wanted the chief essentials of moral greatness. Tacitus possessed still more depth and power than Livy; his mind presented a splendid specimen of intellectual and imaginative ability, with a high moral sense; but yet his character displayed little moral greatness. The truth is, that the chief movers of mankind, the benefactors as well as the disturbers of the world, the men most eminent for good no less than the men most eminent for evil, have been but little addicted to literature. Literary men have often attained to moral greatness of thought, but seldom to moral greatness of action. It is in vain, therefore, that we look to literary men of even the first distinction for the highest example of moral greatness.

Let us now pass to the poets of antiquity. With more splendour than the prose writers, they exhibit still less worth. They were a wicked and a wretched fraternity-very generally the worst of men. Poetry and passion are inseparable, if not identical; and the passions of the heathen poets were almost uniformly in the highest degree corrupt and pestiferous. Homer's writings throw but little light upon his character, and we have no other source of accurate information. The light that is thus reflected is not much to the credit of his benevolence. He is the poet of havoc! Blood and carnage appear to have been his native element! Of all the Greek poets, none came so near the precincts of

moral greatness as Hesiod. It says much for the sense of the first ages, that, in the poetical contention at Chalcis, between Homer and Hesiod, the latter, if we may credit Plutarch and Gyraldus, was declared victor. Cleomenes, while he intended but to sneer, paid a high compliment to Hesiod, when he said Homer was the poet of the Lacedæmonians, and Hesiod of the Helots, or slaves, because Homer celebrated the ravages of war, and Hesiod the arts of peace. Sappho, wonderful as was her genius, was a disgrace, not only to her sex, but to her species. Alcæus was sold into the slavery of his passions. Anacreon was a vile voluptuary, without one redeeming quality! Euripides combined good words with bad deeds. Eschylus was cold and stately, without either benevolence or moral sentiment. Sophocles, with much genius, had little worth and no greatness. The same may be affirmed of Simonides. With respect to Aristophanes, it is enough to consummate his glory or his shame, to remember that he wrote the comedy of the Clouds to ridicule Socrates! Theocritus, Lycophron, Callimachus, and Oppian, were but triflers. Amidst the poets of Greece, however, one man arose to vindicate the honours, and assert the high prerogative of poetical genius. That man was Pindar, one of the brightest spirits of the heathen world. He was, in my humble judgment, the poet of peace, of truth, of affability, of hospitality, of prudence, of piety, of every virtue, and of every grace. Ancient times present no poet superior to Pindar in greatness and sublimity, and, after what I have already said, I need hardly add that his greatness was moral.

There are few pursuits in which the genius of Greece more surpassed that of Rome than in poetry.

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