events, and must be sought for in the depths of society, as the diver goes through turbid waters to bring up the pearl of the ocean. Again: when we consider eras and nations with respect to outward events, or partial standards, we arrive at wrong results. Thus while the human race has been steadily improving, it is notorious that the majority of nations and of persons, and those, too, frequently the most brilliant in the opinion of mankind, have been retrograding. It was during the height of the Roman empire, while history spoke through Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, that corruption-dark, fetid, and malignant, as painted by Juvenal—was already hurrying her backwards in the tide of time. Yet it was at that same hour, when admiration was fixed upon the eagles of Rome, that the primitive Christian-patient, faithful, and suffering-by prayer and by faith, struggled against adverse waves to save the lamp of life and he did save it; and it became the light of nations when the darkness of destruction had gathered over those eagles of Rome. It was also during the ignorance of the middle ages, when the historian found nothing but lamentations for the people of Europe, that the wild Arabian became the cultivator of genius and learning; arts, sciences, and the muses clustered around the standard of the false prophet, and Medina presented the most brilliant scenes of the modern world. It is not then by contemplating any one nation, or any one period of time, or the general events of history, the change of dynasties, or the splendor of arms, that we can discern the chain of cause and effect which, extending from the garden of Eden to the last men, has brightened as it lengthened, and, ascending link by link, has carried forward the human mind from conquest to conquest. This relation of cause and effect, though always connected with, is never dependent upon persons, nations, or events. Its only dependence is the development of truth. It sometimes leaves one nation to give glory to another: it leaves Charlemagne to dwell with Friar Bacon; quits the Delta of the Nile to pour splendor over the barren hills of Attica, and the plains of Chaldea to illustrate an island of the ocean. The science of history then is the development of the human mind, as is demonstrated by the experience of mankind. Its duty is to state that development, as it is exhibited in the various forms of civilization, and to investigate the causes by which its progress has been advanced or retarded. It is most evident that this is a study which could have no existence in the early ages of the world, because history had not then been written, or if written, could not have contained a thousand branches of knowledge and forms of society, which have been the result of invention, discovery, experience, and increased population in modern times. It is also most evident that its importance has increased with the increase of experience and of knowledge. The power of knowledge is a multiplying power, and as society advances the problems of history are solved with tenfold readiness. Multitudes of questions might have been asked in Egypt or Greece upon the results of certain states of society which time had not enabled them to answer, but which the student now looks upon as among the certainties of knowledge. These questions are constantly solving, and leaving less for solution. The social sciences are thus rapidly accumulating, acquiring stability, system, and certainty.* THE USES OF HISTORY. Our next object is to show some of the uses of the study of history. * The greatest works which distinguished the last two centuries (not on physical sciences), were the foundation of certain branches of social science; for example, Montesquieu's Spirit of Laws is the foundation work on the science of political law. So, Locke on the Human Understanding is the foundation work on practical metaphysics; so, also, Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations may be regarded as the original of the modern science of political economy. Neither of these sciences is completed; but they are begun and are growing. There are numerous other branches of social science which are scarcely yet begun, but which will in another generation grow into vast importance. The first of these is its favorable effect on the taste for literature. The love of the narrative, and of the pictures of social life connected with it, is almost as universal as the love of novelty itself. It is this love of the narrative, deep seated in human nature, which is the exhaustless patron of the great mass of fictitious literature, whether in prose or poetry, which has been poured like a flood upon the reading public, increasing with the increasing power of the press. The poet does not long support his flight without it, and the noblest of poems, the epic, owes to this principle its entire interest. The novel has no being without it, and in most cases contains nothing else. It is made the conduit for all the sentiment, principle, taste, or views contained in that great body of literature, which is created and nourished by the imagination. In our time, none can doubt that it has been abused to licentiousness. It has been made to scoop the kennel for characters, to clothe the viler principles in the most beautiful garments, to exaggerate truth into falsehood, and substitute an affected sentimentality for the noble hardihood of virtue. In fine, the literary standard of the age has been lowered by its tolerance, through its love of the narrative, of deformed facts, exaggerated truth, perverted sentiment, and vicious principles. The literary coin has been debased; the stamp is right, but it has been alloyed at the mint. A mighty principle of human nature has been made to contain a thousand follies, if not a thousand crimes, as the strong oak contains imprisoned sap. This principle cannot be eradicated: it would be most lamentable for human nature if it could, for no spring of the immortal spirit has poured a more fertilizing stream over the waters of human life; flowers and verdure have sprung up under its influence; sweet fountains have been opened upon the arid plain, and the heart of the wayfaring traveller made glad, upon whose journey even hope had ceased to shine. The principle being irradicable, may we not use it for useful purposes? The true philosophy of correction in literature, as well as morals, lies not in destruction, but in reform. There is no principle of human nature implanted for evil purposes, and none which the power of man can destroy. A system which aims at either destroying or enslaving the natural tastes or faculties of the human mind, will as certainly end in its own destruction and ultimate ridicule, as that the spirit shall survive the body. This love of the narrative is one of the earliest principles seized upon by skilful instructors to convey knowledge to the opening mind; and observation teaches us that it loses nothing in strength or freshness as life draws on. The last romance, filled with mystery and marvels, is often bent over with as much interest by declining age as it is by the blooming girl, who, at midnight hour, starts at the picture which imagination has drawn. And if, indeed, some sober utilitarian, or some recluse in orthodoxy denies him |