ecline; the
_Preux Chevaliers_ first became rightly admirable, when "dying for
their king" had ceased to be a habit with chevaliers. For if the
mystic significance of the State, let this be what it may, dwells
vitally in every heart, encircles every life as with a second higher
life, how should it stand self-questioning? It must rush outward, and
express itself by works. Besides, if perfect, it is there as by
necessity, and does not excite inquiry: it is also by nature infinite,
has no limits; therefore can be circumscribed by no conditions and
definitions; cannot be reasoned of; except _musically_, or in the
language of Poetry, cannot yet so much as be spoken of.

In those days, Society was what we name healthy, sound at heart. Not
indeed without suffering enough; not without perplexities, difficulty
on every side: for such is the appointment of man; his highest and
sole blessedness is, that he toil, and know what to toil at: not in
ease, but in united victorious labour, which is at once evil and the
victory over evil, does his Freedom lie. Nay, often, looking no deeper
than such superficial perplexities of the early Time, historians have
taught us that it was all one mass of contradiction and disease; and
in the antique Republic, or feudal Monarchy, have seen only the
confused chaotic quarry, not the robust labourer, or the stately
edifice he was building of it. If Society, in such ages, had its
difficulty, it had also its strength: if sorrowful masses of rubbish
so encumbered it, the tough sinews to hurl them aside, with
indomitable heart, were not wanting. Society went along without
complaint; did not stop to scrutinise itself, to say, How well I
perform, or, Alas, how ill! Men did not yet feel themselves to be "the
envy of surrounding nations;" and were enviable on that very account.
Society was what we can call _whole_, in both senses of the word. The
individual man was in himself a whole, or complete union; and could
combine with his fellows as the living member of a greater whole. For
all men, through their life, were animated by one great Idea; thus all
efforts pointed one way, everywhere there was _wholeness_. Opinion and
Action had not yet become disunited; but the former could still
produce the latter, or attempt to produce it; as the stamp does its
impression while the wax is not hardened. Thought, and the voice of
thought were also a unison; thus, instead of Speculation, we had
Poetry; Literature, in its