come even to be regarded with suspicion as unsettling: we have
got, we say, what we want, and we are well contented with it;
why should we be kept in perpetual restlessness, because you
are searching after some new truths which, when found, will
compel us to derange the state of our minds in order to make
room for them. Thus the democracy of Athens was afraid of and
hated Socrates; and the poet who satirized Cleon, knew that
Cleon's partizans, no less than his own aristocratical friends,
would sympathize with his satire when directed against the
philosophers. But if this hold in political matters, much more
does it hold religiously. The two great parties of the
Christian world have each their own standard of truth, by which
they try all things: Scripture on the one hand, the voice of
the church on the other. To both, therefore, the pure
intellectual movement is not only unwelcome, but they dislike
it. It will question what they will not allow to be questioned;
it may arrive at conclusions which they would regard as
impious. And, therefore, in an age of religious movement
particularly, the spirit of intellectual movement soon finds
itself proscribed rather than countenanced."

In the extract which follows, the pure and tender morality of the
sentiment vies with the atmosphere of fine writing that invests it. The
passage is one which Plato might have envied, and which we should
imagine the most hardened and successful of our modern apostates cannot
read without some feeling like contrition and remorse. Fortunate indeed
were the youth trained to virtue by such a monitor, and still more
fortunate the country where such a duty was confided to such a man:--

"I have tried to analyze the popular party: I must now