416 
FALLACIES—No, I. 
«_____ in our memories 
Preserve and still keep fresh (like flowers in water) 
Those happier days.” Denham’s Sophy. 
** But I spak of thase times, whan there was neither 
constable or exciseman in this village—* They 
were happy days— sighed Macworth the cooper.” 
N every nation of the earth, and at 
every period of history, there has 
existed in the minds of men a remark- 
able disposition to magnify and exagge- 
rate the merits of preceding ages, at the 
expense of that in which it is their mis- 
fortune to exist. This has ever been 
the case, whether under northern skies, 
or in the warm regions of the sun— 
whether heathenism remained supreme, 
or Christianity were received, still the 
same lamentation has veen heard, that 
every generation is further removed 
from the pfistine excellence of man; 
that vice increases, virtue is discou- 
raged ; and that, from Noah downwards, 
“bad and worse times still succeed the 
former.” 
The cause of this universal opinion is, 
unfortunately, too obvious. Man inya- 
riably starts into life fresh, vigorous, 
and full of the most confident hopes; 
and, as certainly, those hopes are blighted 
before his race isrun. His fancy creates 
to himself some indistinct and shadowy, 
but not less beautiful, notion of sublu- 
nary bliss—a vision of “ something rich 
and strange :” the idea is formed, bred 
and nourished in his brain, “and there 
the antic sits,’ still urging him to a 
desperate pursuit of what no mortal 
ever undertook : on—on— still on—he 
runs with frantic eagerness; till life and 
hope, drooping together, unveil the 
mockery which has so long deluded 
him! And, even now, tenacious memory 
still clings to the dear treasure she has 
cherished so long,—continually forcing, 
on .the victim’s mind, thoughts of the 
self-same phantom, maugre his expe- 
tience of the fallacy. In the bitterness 
of his despair, he inveighs against fate — 
for placing him, forsooth, in a world 
from whose growing depravity happiness 
is now fled for ever !—whilst he should 
rather impeach his own folly in believing 
her terrestrial existence at all, or in any 
age. ; 
Still, howeyer, faith in this false god- 
dess is a pleasant superstition; and few 
there are who bow not their heads in 
this idolatry: for we listen fondly to 
those who tell us of her “ whereabout,” 
in the olden times. 
We are apt to believe, that, in the 
Fallacies — No. I. 
[June 1, 
infant beauty of the world, the skies 
were purer, and the people better—that 
fathers were more affectionate, wives 
more constant, and children more obe- 
dient. We dwell upon fictions of those 
golden climes where laws were un- 
known, and crimes not thought of = 
where bolts and bars were never used—= 
where men were not urged to violence 
by griping want, or tempted by idle 
superfluities. There, under warm skies, 
in fertile lands, revelling in the richness 
of all-bountiful nature, dwelt the god- 
like men of old,—watching their flocks 
and herds, piping soft melodies, and 
dancing quaintly in their shady groves, 
“not without song:’— spending the 
summer-day in one long sport, and 
sleeping through the night, unmoved by 
frightful dreams, or troubled recollec- 
tions of an anxious life. We long to 
join the lusty group—to share their 
rural mirth—to see their merry dance— 
and, on their festal days, to worship 
with them on the “green” hill-top, and 
take our part in grateful sacrificial 
hymns to universal Pan ! 
But when, and where, was all this? 
The ancients had always some distant 
country, where these fancied blessings 
were still enjoyed. In the earlier periods, 
/Ethiopia seems to have been the name 
ascribed to this land of promise; and 
hence, perhaps, the flattering, though 
somewhat sobered, picture of its inhabi- 
tants given by Herodotus. Later tradi- 
tions place the scene in the country of 
the Hyperboreans, a people changing 
their locality from the northern extre- 
mity of Asia to that of Europe, or even 
the coast of Gaul; and to whom Strabo, 
on the authority of Simonides and Pin- 
dar, has given a life of a thousand years. 
Another chain of fictions assigns it to 
the Isles of the West.* And, for the 
degeneracy of men in very early times; 
let us look ‘to the opinion of the philo- 
sophic Agis, who had to console his 
desponding countrymen with a remark 
which every man’s experience had made 
familiar, “ That the fading virtues of 
later times was a cause of grief to his 
father Archidamus: who, again, had 
listened to the same regrets from his 
own venerable sire.” . 
But, when we examine into the re- 
ported nature of society in these ely- 
siums, whether in that of the heroic 
ages, 
* See, on this subject, the editor’s learned 
and interesting preface to the reprint. of 
be de History of English Poetry, & yols. 
VO. 
