Such, in broad light and brief terms, was man for five thousand years.  Such he is no longer.  Let us consider what he is now, comparing the descriptions clause by clause.

I. He was invariably sensible of the existence of gods, and went about all his speculations or works holding this as an acknowledged fact, making his best efforts in their service. Now he is capable of going through life with hardly any positive idea on this subject,—­doubting, fearing, suspecting, analyzing,—­doing everything, in fact, but believing; hardly ever getting quite up to that point which hitherto was wont to be the starting-point for all generations.  And human work has accordingly hardly any reference to spiritual beings, but is done either from a patriotic or personal interest,—­either to benefit mankind, or reach some selfish end, not (I speak of human work in the broad sense) to please the gods.

II.  He was a beautiful creature, setting forth this beauty by all means in his power, and depending upon it for much of his authority over his fellows.  So that the ruddy cheek of David, and the ivory skin of Atrides, and the towering presence of Saul, and the blue eyes of Coeur de Lion, were among chief reasons why they should be kings; and it was one of the aims of all education, and of all dress, to make the presence of the human form stately and lovely. Now it has become the task of grave philosophy partly to depreciate or conceal this bodily beauty; and even by those who esteem it in their hearts, it is not made one of the great ends of education; man has become, upon the whole, an ugly animal, and is not ashamed of his ugliness.

III.  He was eminently warlike.  He is now gradually becoming more and more ashamed of all the arts and aims of battle.  So that the desire of dominion, which was once frankly confessed or boasted of as a heroic passion, is now sternly reprobated or cunningly disclaimed.

IV.  He used to take no interest in anything but what immediately concerned himself. Now, he has deep interest in the abstract nature of things, inquires as eagerly into the laws which regulate the economy of the material world, as into those of his own being, and manifests a passionate admiration of inanimate objects, closely resembling, in its elevation and tenderness, the affection which he bears to those living souls with which he is brought into the nearest fellowship.

It is this last change only which is to be the subject of our present inquiry; but it cannot be doubted that it is closely connected with all the others, and that we can only thoroughly understand its nature by considering il in this connection.  For, regarded by itself, we might perhaps, too rashly assume it to be a natural consequence of the progress of the race.  There appears to be a diminution of selfishness in it, and a more extended and heartfelt desire of understanding the manner of God’s working; and this the more,