what is
progression, and what is decline.

Into a mind possessed with this persuasion of the perpetual progress of
man, there may even imperceptibly steal both from the belief itself, and
from many of the views on which it rests, something like a distrust of
the wisdom of great men of former ages, and with the reverence, which no
delusion will ever over-power in a pure mind, for their greatness, a
fancied discernment of imperfection and of incomplete excellence, which
wanted for its accomplishment the advantages of later improvements:
there will be a surprise that so much should have been possible in times
so ill prepared; and even the study of their works may be sometimes
rather the curious research of a speculative inquirer, than the devout
contemplation of an enthusiast,--the watchful and obedient heart of a
disciple listening to the inspiration of his master.

Here then is the power of delusion that will gather round the first
steps of a youthful spirit, and throw enchantment over the world in
which it is to dwell; hope realising its own dreams; ignorance dazzled
and ravished with sudden sunshine; power awakened and rejoicing in its
own consciousness; enthusiasm kindling among multiplying images of
greatness and beauty, and enamoured, above all, of one splendid error;
and, springing from all these, such a rapture of life and hope and joy,
that the soul, in the power of its happiness, transmutes things
essentially repugnant to it into the excellence of its own nature: these
are the spells that cheat the eye of the mind with illusion. It is under
these influences that a young man of ardent spirit gives all his love,
and reverence, and zeal, to productions of art, to theories of science,
to opinions, to systems of feeling, and to characters distinguished in
the world, that are far beneath his own original dignity.

Now as this delusion springs not from his worse but his better nature,
it seems as if there could be no warning to him from within of his
danger: for even the impassioned joy which he draws at times from the
works of nature, and from those of her mightier sons, and which would
startle him from a dream of unworthy passion, serves only to fix the
infatuation:--for those deep emotions, proving to him that his heart is
uncorrupted, justify to him all its workings, and his mind, confiding
and delighting in itself, yields to the guidance of its own blind
impulses of pleasure. His chance, therefore, of security i