ere is something philosophic in the worship of the
heroes of the human race, and the true hero is the benefactor. Brahma,
Jupiter, Bacchus, were all benefactors, and, therefore, entitled to the
worship of their respective peoples. The Celts worshipped Hesus, who
taught them to plough, a highly useful art. We, who have attained a much
higher state of civilisation than the Celts ever did, worship Jesus, the
first who endeavoured to teach men to behave decently and decorously
under all circumstances; who was the foe of vengeance, in which there is
something highly indecorous; who had first the courage to lift his voice
against that violent dogma, "an eye for an eye"; who shouted conquer, but
conquer with kindness; who said put up the sword, a violent unphilosophic
weapon; and who finally died calmly and decorously in defence of his
philosophy. He must be a savage who denies worship to the hero of
Golgotha.'

'But he was something more than a hero; he was the Son of God, wasn't
he?'

The elderly individual made no immediate answer; but, after a few more
whiffs from his pipe, exclaimed, 'Come, fill your glass! How do you
advance with your translation of _Tell_'?

'It is nearly finished; but I do not think I shall proceed with it; I
begin to think the original somewhat dull.'

'There you are wrong; it is the masterpiece of Schiller, the first of
German poets.'

'It may be so,' said the youth. 'But, pray excuse me, I do not think
very highly of German poetry. I have lately been reading Shakespeare;
and, when I turn from him to the Germans--even the best of them--they
appear mere pigmies. You will pardon the liberty I perhaps take in
saying so.'

'I like that every one should have an opinion of his own,' said the
elderly individual; 'and, what is more, declare it. Nothing displeases
me more than to see people assenting to everything that they hear said; I
at once come to the conclusion that they are either hypocrites, or there
is nothing in them. But, with respect to Shakespeare, whom I have not
read for thirty years, is he not rather given to bombast, "crackling
bombast," as I think I have said in one of my essays?'

'I daresay he is,' said the youth; 'but I can't help thinking him the
greatest of all poets, not even excepting Homer. I would sooner have
written that series of plays, founded on the fortunes of the House of
Lancaster, than the _Iliad_ itself. The events described are as lofty as
those sung b