ancient religion, and to oppose a barrier to the rapid progress of the new, but which ended in the wildest metaphysical dreams. In the mean time, Christian teachers, who at first rejected and condemned Greek philosophy, ended by adopting it, in part at least, thus intending to complete and fortify their religious system. This work of fundamental preparation continued until the disunion of the eastern and western empires opened the way for the erection of that grand and romantic superstructure for which the world was by the above instrumentalities prepared. It was well observed by Justin Martyr, "Those persons before the Christian era, who endeavored by the strength of human understanding to investigate and ascertain the nature of things, were brought into the courts of justice as impious and over-curious." But with the Messiah came more auspicious days, when on all sides schools arose whose ruling character was religious, and whose processes were no longer abstraction, but inspiration and illumination. Philo, born some years before Christ, and Numerius, two centuries after, both leaders of Jewish cabals; and the leading Gnostics, Simon Magus, Menander the Samaritan, and Corinthus, of the first century, as well as Saturninus, Basilides, Carpocrates, and Valentinus, of the second, all had an important preparatory work to perform. Plotinus and Porphyry, too, wrought a good work in their day. And when the apostate Julian, as the incarnated school of Alexandria, became the hero of mysticism, and ascended the throne of Rome, it was that thus he might more manifestly extinguish the lingering brilliancy of the East, and occasion a fairer unfolding in the West. With him and Proclus, sensualism and idealism ended, and Greek philosophy expired in giving birth to that new civilization which dates from the sixth century. Modern scholars have searched through the voluminous commentators upon Aristotle, which the learned eclecticism of the third, fourth, and fifth centuries of our era produced, some of them still only existing in manuscript, but have found but little worthy of preservation. The time had come when one could no longer hear Plato, in his own silvery tongue, delivering that allegory which compares the human soul to a chariot with winged horses and driver, and which resolves its purest thoughts into reminiscences of a brighter life and nobler companionship. During the martial sway of imperial Rome, the beautiful philosophic fabric which the Greeks had fashioned, like the web of Penelope, was mutilated, defaced, and nearly destroyed.