satisfaction of seeing the master minds of Rome coming as humble disciples to the sources of art and wisdom that took their origin only on her soil. Indeed, it is scarcely far-fetched to say that Greece was avenged for her slavery by the not less complete slavery of Rome to her intellectual supremacy. The Roman poets, dazzled by the brilliancy of their Athenian prototypes, fancied that only by imitating, could they hope to excel. A more unfortunate idea never took possession of a nation. It destroyed everything in their writings that was spontaneous and redolent of their native soil. Whatever is really endowed with life and intrinsic value in their works, has had to struggle into existence through the suffocating atmosphere of foreign fashions and foreign trains of thought. This evil was apparent in other branches of literature, but it was very far from injuring them as it injured poetry. Virgil was assuredly one of the greatest poets that ever lived, and yet how much of his poetry is second-hand, or, at best, adapted from others. The adaptations are often executed with marvellous skill, but this fact only enhances our regret that he should have made of his _Æneid_ but an echo of Homer; and of his _Eclogues_ but a repetition of Theocritus. His _Georgia,_ indeed, escaped being only a decoction from Greek herbs, because in them he wrote of what he had actually seen and experienced, and they are, in truth, his masterpiece. Indeed, if we deduct the extraordinary beauty of the style, which is above praise, what is there of great value in the _Eclogues,_ except some images of rural beauty, and some outbursts of exquisite tenderness? Or in the _Æneid,_ except those passages where he praises the greatness of Italy and Rome, expatiates on his philosophy, and depicts with tenderness and fire, such as no other ancient poet could command, the passion of love? Better, far better, would it have been for him if he had never heard of Homer, and had never studied Theocritus. This great poet would then have been compelled to rely on his own resources, and would have produced works, different it may be, but far more striking and profound, than those we now possess.