[ 426 ] [APRIL, 



THE FIELD OF MONUMENTS I A VISION. 



I HAVE often thought, when viewing a diversified country at sunset, 

 that the prospect might be aptly compared with a backward glance at 

 the history of literature. We look abroad upon the face of nature, and 

 we see it sprinkled with gilded eminences ; some nearer, others more 

 distant ; some rising almost up to heaven, others projecting but a little 

 way beyond the level of the earth ; these only are distinctly revealed to 

 the eye, though we know that many dark valleys, and many sterile flats 

 intervene, and that the broader and more towering eminences, have 

 thrown into shade some of the lesser heights which surround them. 

 And so, when we glance backward at the history of literature, we see 

 the great and the small start out from the vast level of past ages ; some 

 stand single, others in groups ; long and dreary wastes, their level 

 scarcely broken by a single prominence, stretch in one direction ; while 

 in another, hardly are we able to discover a vacant spot of earth. I 

 have often, in a dreaming hour, fancied myself wandering over this vast 

 level, upon which there seemed to be scattered the monuments of the 

 departed, shewing by their attitude the comparative genius of those 

 whom they commemorated ; and this, not according to the verdict of 

 mankind, but according to the final and unerring judgment of some 

 higher tribunal. It was but in the dusk of yesternight, that I stood 

 contemplating this wide plain, which seemed to be lighted up by the 

 oblique rays of the declining sun. At no great distance from the spot 

 where I stood, was a cluster of pillars, for the most part of moderate 

 altitude; beyond these, and to a considerable extent across the plain, 

 monuments were scattered, single, and in groups, and of various alti- 

 tudes, and of these, the most remote rose immeasurably the highest, 

 and stood upon the verge of a vast desert expanse, where scarcely a 

 single monument arrested the eye, as it glanced across to the extreme 

 limits of the plain ; but there, as if links between heaven and earth, 

 gigantic columns were seen towering up between it and the highest 

 horizon. 



While I remained silently contemplating the scene, I saw a man sud- 

 denly step from behind one of the pillars, and advance towards the spot 

 where I stood : I had somehow an instinctive knowledge that this man 

 was able to be my cicerone over the field of monuments, and I received 

 him with much civility. <c You are no doubt desirous," said he, " to 

 learn the secrets which this plain reveals, and thus be able to estimate 

 the judgment of the world : you will see many things which may appear 

 wonderful to you, but you are one of a misjudging race ; sometimes 

 your verdicts are right, but they are oftener wrong. We who manage 

 matters here proceed upon more certain data." " It is probable," I 

 replied, " that our hasty judgments are often incorrect, but time rectifies 

 our errors ; the mass of the world will always be led by the few in it 

 who are capable of judging, and therefore the deferred verdict of man- 

 kind must be just." (( Just!" interrupted my companion, with some 

 heat, " how can justice result from erring judgments ? fashion, passion, 

 and prejudice, may indeed be corrected by time, but the powers of judg- 

 ment among men are not greater now than they were two thousand years 

 ago. Limited they have always been, and limited they will always be. 

 How, let me ask, should you be able to judge of the merits of a poem. 



