I have now mentioned some of the principal objects of archæology, which, as I have said, embraces within its range all the monuments of the history and life of man in times past. And this it does, beginning with the remains of primeval man, which stretch far beyond the records of all literary history, and descending along the stream of time till it approaches, but does not quite reach time actually present. No sharp line of demarcation separates the past from the present; you may say that classical archæology terminates with the overthrow of the Western Empire; you may conceive that medieval archæology ceases with the reign of Henry the Seventh; but, be this as it may, in a very few generations the objects of use or of ornament to us will become the objects of research to the archæologist; and, I may add, may be the subjects of lectures to my successors.
For the founder of this Professorship, whose memory is never to be named without honour, and the University which accepted it, together with his valuable collection of ancient sculptures, undoubtedly intended that any kind or class of antiquities whatever might fitly form the theme of the Professor’s discourse. I say this, because a misconception has undoubtedly prevailed on this subject, from which even my learned predecessor himself was not free. “Every nation of course,” says he, “has its own peculiar archæology. Whether civilized or uncivilized, whether of historic fame or of obscure barbarism, Judæa, Assyria, and Egypt; Greece and Rome; India, China, and Mexico; Denmark, Germany, Britain, and the other nations of modern Europe, all have their archæology. The field of inquiry,” he continues, “is boundless, and in the multitude of objects presenting themselves the enquirer is bewildered. It has been wisely provided therefore by the founder of this Professorship, that we shall direct our attention more immediately to one particular class of Antiquities, and that the noblest and most important of them all, I mean the Antiquities of Greece and Rome[[2]].” Very probably such may have been Mr Disney’s original intention; and if so, this will easily explain and abundantly pardon the error of my accomplished friend; but the actual words of the declaration and agreement between Mr Disney and the University, which is of course the only document of binding force, are as follows: “That it shall be the duty of the Professor to deliver in the course of each academical year, at such days and hours as the Vice-Chancellor shall appoint, six lectures at least on the subject of Classical, Mediæval and other Antiquities, the Fine Arts and all matters and things connected therewith.” Whether he would have acted wisely or not wisely in limiting the field to classical archæology, he has in point of fact not thus limited it. And, upon the whole, I must confess, I am glad that he has imposed no limitation. For while there are but few who would deny that many of the very choicest relics of ancient art and of ancient history are to be sought for in the Greek and Roman saloons and cabinets of the museums of Europe, yet it must at the same time be admitted that there are other branches of archæology, which are far too important to be neglected, and which have an interest, and often a very high interest, of their own.
[2]. Marsden’s Introd. Lect. p. 5. Cambr. 1852.
Let it be confessed, that the archæology of Greece has in many respects the pre-eminence over every other. “It is to Greece that the whole civilized world looks up,” says Canon Marsden, “as its teacher in literature and in art; and it is to her productions that we refer as the standard of all that is beautiful, noble, and excellent. Greece excelled in all that she put her hand to. Her sons were poets and orators and historians; they were architects and sculptors and painters. The scantiest gleanings of her soil are superior to that which constitutes the pride and boast of others. Scarcely a fragment is picked up from the majestic ruin, which does not induce a train of thought upon the marvellous grace and beauty which must have characterized the whole!
Quale te dicat tamen
Antehac fuisse, tales cum sint relliquiæ.”
These eloquent and fervid words proceed from a passionate admirer of Hellenic art, and a most successful cultivator of its archæology. Nor do I dare to say that the praise is exaggerated. But at the same time, viewed in other aspects, the archæology of our own country has even greater interest and importance for us. What man is there, in whose breast glows a spark of patriotism, who does not view the monuments of his country which are everywhere spread around him, (in this place above most places,) which connect the present with the remote past, and with many and diverse ages of that past by a thousand reminiscences, with feelings deeper and nobler than any exotic remains of antiquity, how charming soever, could either foment or engender? This love of national antiquities, seated in a healthy patriotic feeling, has place in the speech of an apostle himself: “Men and brethren, let me freely speak unto you of the patriarch David, that he is both dead and buried; and his sepulchre is with us unto this day.” The same feeling prompted Wordsworth thus to express himself in reference to our ancient colleges and their former occupants:
I could not always lightly pass
Through the same gateways, sleep where they had slept,
Wake where they waked; I could not always print