Seated in the moonshine on one of the steps leading to the seats supposed to have been occupied by the patricians in the Colosæum at the time of the public games, the train of ideas in which he had before indulged continued to flow with a vividness and force increased by the stillness and solitude of the scene, and by the full moon, which, he observes, has always a peculiar effect on these moods of feeling in his mind, giving to them a wildness and a kind of indefinite sensation, such as he supposes belong at all times to the true poetical temperament.

"It must be so," thought he, "no new city will rise again out of the double ruins of this; no new empire will be founded upon these colossal remains of that of the old Romans. The world, like the individual, flourishes in youth, rises to strength in manhood, falls into decay in age; and the ruins of an empire are like the decrepid frame of an individual, except that they have some tints of beauty, which nature bestows upon them. The sun of civilization arose in the East, advanced towards the West, and is now at its meridian; in a few centuries more, it will probably be seen sinking below the horizon, even in the new world; and there will be left darkness only where there is a bright light, deserts of sand where there were populous cities, and stagnant morasses where the green meadow, or the bright corn-field once appeared. Time," he exclaimed, "which purifies, and, as it were, sanctifies the mind, destroys and brings into utter decay the body; and even in nature its influence seems always degrading. She is represented by the poet as eternal in her youth; but amongst these ruins she appears to me eternal in her age, and here, no traces of renovation appear in the ancient of days."

He had scarcely concluded this ideal sentence, when his reverie became deeper, and his imagination called up a spirit, who, having rebuked him for his ignorance and presumption, undeceives him in his views of the history of the world, by unfolding to him in a vision the progress of man from a state of barbarity to that of high civilization. He is first shown a country covered with forests and marshes; wild animals were grazing in large savannahs, and carnivorous beasts, such as lions and tigers, occasionally disturbing and destroying them. Man appeared as a naked savage, feeding upon wild fruits, or devouring shell-fish, or fighting with clubs for the remains of a whale which had been thrown upon the shore. His habitation was a cave in the earth—"See the birth of Time!" exclaimed the Genius; "look at man in his newly-created state, full of youth and vigour. Do you see aught in this state to admire or envy?"

In the next scene, a country opened upon his view, which appeared partly wild and partly cultivated; and men were seen covered with the skins of animals, and driving cattle to enclosed pastures; others were reaping and collecting corn, and others again were making it into bread. Cottages appeared furnished with many of the conveniences of life. The Genius now said, "Look at these groups of men who are escaped from the state of infancy; they owe their improvement to a few superior minds still amongst them. That aged man whom you see with a crowd around him taught them to build cottages; from that other they learnt to domesticate cattle; from others, to collect and sow corn and seeds of fruit. And these arts will never be lost; another generation will see them more perfect. You shall be shown other visions of the passages of time; but as you are carried along the stream which flows from the period of creation to the present moment, I shall only arrest your transit to make you observe some circumstances which will demonstrate the truths I wish you to know." He then proceeds to describe in succession the different scenes as they appeared before him, and to relate the observations by which his genius, or intellectual guide, accompanied him.

A great extent of cultivated plains, large cities on the sea-shore, palaces, forums, and temples, were displayed before him. He saw men associated in groups, mounted on horses, and performing military exercises; galleys moved by oars on the ocean; roads intersecting the country covered with travellers, and containing carriages moved by men or horses. The Genius now said, "You see the early state of civilization of man: the cottages of the last race you beheld have become improved into stately dwellings, palaces, and temples, in which use is combined with ornament. The few men to whom, as I said before, the foundations of these improvements were owing, have had divine honours paid to their memory. But look at the instruments belonging to this generation, and you will find they were only of brass. You see men who are talking to crowds around them, and others who are apparently amusing listening groups by a kind of song or recitation; these are the earliest bards and orators; but all their signs of thought are oral, for written language does not yet exist."

The Genius next presented to him a scene of varied business and imagery. He saw a man who bore in his hands the same instruments as our modern smiths, presenting a vase, which appeared to be made of iron, amidst the acclamations of an assembled multitude; and he saw in the same place men who carried rolls of papyrus in their hands, and wrote upon them with reeds containing ink, made from the soot of wood mixed with a solution of glue.—"See," the Genius said, "an immense change produced in the condition of society by the two arts of which you now see the origin; the one, that of rendering iron malleable, which is owing to a single individual, an obscure Greek; the other, that of making thought permanent in written characters,—an art which has gradually arisen from the hieroglyphics which you may observe on yonder pyramids. You will now see human life more replete with power and activity."

In the scenes that succeeded, he saw bronze instruments thrown away; malleable iron converted into hard steel, and applied to a thousand purposes of civilized life; bands of men traversing the sea, founding colonies, building cities, and, wherever they established themselves, carrying with them their peculiar arts. He saw the Roman world succeeded by cities filled with an idle and luxurious population, and the farms which had been cultivated by warriors, who left the plough to take the command of armies, now in the hands of slaves; and the militia of free men supplanted by bands of mercenaries, who sold the Empire to the highest bidder. He saw immense masses of warriors collecting in the North and East, carrying with them no other proofs of cultivation but their horses and steel arms. He saw these savages every where plundering cities and destroying the monuments of arts and literature. Ruin, desolation, and darkness were before him, and he closed his eyes to avoid the melancholy scene. "See," said the Genius, "the termination of a power believed by its founders invincible, and intended to be eternal. But you will find, though the glory and greatness belonging to its military genius have passed away, yet those belonging to the arts and institutions by which it adorned and dignified life, will again arise in another state of society."

Upon again opening his eyes, he saw Italy recovering from her desolation, towns arising with governments almost upon the model of ancient Athens and Rome, and these different small states rivals in arts and arms;—he saw the remains of libraries, which had been preserved in monasteries and churches by a holy influence, which even the Goth and Vandal respected, again opened to the people;—he saw Rome rising from her ashes, the fragments of statues found amidst the ruins of her palaces and imperial villas, becoming the models for the regeneration of art;—he saw magnificent temples raised in this city, become the metropolis of a new and Christian world, and ornamented with the most brilliant master-pieces of the arts of design.—"Now," the Genius said, "society has taken its modern and permanent aspect. Consider for a moment its relations to letters and to arms, as contrasted with those of the ancient world." He looked, and he saw that, in the place of the rolls of papyrus, libraries were now filled with books. "Behold," the Genius said, "The Printing Press! By the invention of Faust, the productions of genius are, as it were, made imperishable, capable of indefinite multiplication, and rendered an unalienable heritage of the human mind. By this art, apparently so humble, the progress of society is secured, and man is spared the humiliation of witnessing again scenes like those which followed the destruction of the Roman Empire. Now look to the warriors of modern times; you see the spear, the javelin, and the cuirass are changed for the musket and the light artillery. The German monk who discovered gunpowder did not meanly affect the destinies of mankind; wars are become less bloody by becoming less personal; mere brutal strength is rendered of comparatively little avail; all the resources of civilization are required to move a large army; wealth, ingenuity, and perseverance become the principal elements of success; civilized man is rendered in consequence infinitely superior to the savage, and gunpowder gives permanence to his triumph, and secures the cultivated nations from being ever again overrun by the inroads of millions of barbarians."[116]

The Genius then directs his attention to scenes in which are displayed the triumphs of modern science; such as the steam-engine, and the thousand resources furnished by the chemical and mechanical arts; and she concludes by endeavouring to impress upon him the conviction, "That the results of intellectual labour, or of scientific genius, are permanent, and incapable of being lost. Monarchs change their plans, governments their objects, a fleet or an army effect their purpose and then pass away; but a piece of steel touched by the magnet preserves its character for ever, and secures to man the dominion of the trackless ocean. A new period of society may send armies from the shores of the Baltic to those of the Euxine, and the empire of the followers of Mahomet may be broken in pieces by a Northern people, and the dominion of the Britons in Asia may share the fate of Tamerlane or Zengis-khan; but the steam-boat which ascends the Delaware, or the St. Lawrence, will be continued to be used, and will carry the civilization of an improved people into the deserts of North America, and into the wilds of Canada. In the common history of the world, as compiled by authors in general, almost all the great changes of nations are confounded with changes in their dynasties, and events are usually referred either to sovereigns, chiefs, heroes, or their armies, which do, in fact, originate from entirely different causes, either of an intellectual or moral nature."

Having instructed him in the history of man as an inhabitant of the earth, the Genius proceeds to reveal to him the mysteries of spiritual natures, in which the author evidently shows his attachment to the belief that our intellectual essence is destined hereafter to enjoy a higher and better state of planetary existence,[117] drinking intellectual light from a purer source, and approaching nearer to the Infinite and Divine mind. I shall not attempt to follow him and his Genius to the verge of the solar system, witnessing in his career the inhabitants of planets and comets. We may upon this occasion truly apply to the author the words of Lucretius—