which they
who are reputed happy abound with; and if, without stirring from thence,
they should be informed of a certain divine power and majesty, and,
after some time, the earth should open, and they should quit their dark
abode to come to us; where they should immediately behold the earth, the
seas, the heavens; should consider the vast extent of the clouds and
force of the winds; should see the sun, and observe his grandeur and
beauty, and also his creative power, inasmuch as day is occasioned by
the diffusion of his light through the sky; and when night has obscured
the earth, they should contemplate the heavens bespangled and adorned
with stars; the surprising variety of the moon, in her increase and
wane; the rising and setting of all the stars, and the inviolable
regularity of their courses; when,' says he, 'they should see these
things, they would undoubtedly conclude that there are Gods, and that
these are their mighty works.'"[3]

Is my life vulgar, my fate mean,
Which on such golden memories can lean?[4]

At the same time the change which has taken place in the character of
our religion has in one respect weakened the hold which Nature has upon
our feelings. To the Greeks--to our own ancestors,--every River or
Mountain or Forest had not only its own special Deity, but in some sense
was itself instinct with life. They were not only peopled by Nymphs and
Fauns, Elves and Kelpies, were not only the favourite abodes of Water,
Forest, or Mountain Spirits, but they had a conscious existence of their
own.

In the Middle Ages indeed, these spirits were regarded as often
mischievous, and apt to take offence; sometimes as essentially
malevolent--even the most beautiful, like the Venus of Tannhaeuser, being
often on that very account all the more dangerous; while the Mountains
and Forests, the Lakes and Seas, were the abodes of hideous ghosts and
horrible monsters, of Giants and Ogres, Sorcerers and Demons. These
fears, though vague, were none the less extreme, and the judicial
records of the Middle Ages furnish only too conclusive evidence that
they were a terrible reality. The light of Science has now happily
dispelled these fearful nightmares.

Unfortunately, however, as men have multiplied, their energies have
hitherto tended, not to beautify, but to mar. Forests have been cut
down, and replaced by flat fields in geometrical squares, or on the
continent by narrow strips. Here and there indeed we meet w