d what they describe. Mr. Carlyle has studied the
same subject with power at least equal to theirs, and to
him the greatness of English character was waning with
the dawn of English literature; the race of heroes was
already failing. The era of action was yielding before
the era of speech.

All these views may seem to ourselves exaggerated;
we may have settled into some moderate via media,
or have carved out our own ground on an original
pattern; but if we are wise, the differences in other
men's judgments will teach us to be diffident. The
more distinctly we have made history bear witness
in favour of our particular opinions, the more we
have multiplied the chances against the truth of our
own theory.

Again, supposing that we have made a truce with
"opinions," properly so called; supposing we have
satisfied ourselves that it is idle to quarrel upon points
on which good men differ, and that it is better to attend
rather to what we certainly know; supposing that, either
from superior wisdom, or from the conceit of superior
wisdom, we have resolved that we will look for human
perfection neither exclusively in the Old World nor
exclusively in the New--neither among Catholics nor
Protestants, among Whigs or Tories, heathens or
Christians--that we have laid aside accidental differences
and determined to recognize only moral distinctions, to
love moral worth, and to hate moral evil, wherever we
find them;--even supposing all this, we have not much
improved our position--we cannot leap from our
shadow.

Eras, like individuals, differ from one another in
the species of virtue which they encourage. In one
age, we find the virtues of the warrior, in the next of
the saint. The ascetic and the soldier in their turn
disappear; an industrial era succeeds, bringing with it
the virtues of common sense, of grace, and refinement.
There is the virtue of energy and command, there is
the virtue of humility and patient suffering. All these
are different, and all are, or may be, of equal moral
value; yet, from the constitution of our minds, we are
so framed that we cannot equally appreciate all; we
sympathize instinctively with the person who most
have been especially cultivated. Further, if we leave
out of sight these refinements, and content ourselves
with the most popular conceptions of morality, there is
this immeasurable difficulty--so great, yet so little
considered,--that goodness is positive as well as negative,
and con