t the clouds, except Aristophanes; and he, I am sorry
to say (since his report is so unfavourable), is the only Greek who
had studied them attentively. He tells us, first, that they are "great
goddesses to idle men"; then, that they are "mistresses of disputings,
and logic, and monstrosities, and noisy chattering"; declares that
whoso believes in their divinity must first disbelieve in Jupiter, and
place supreme power in the hands of an unknown god "Whirlwind"; and,
finally, he displays their influence over the mind of one of their
disciples, in his sudden desire "to speak ingeniously concerning
smoke."[112]

There is, I fear, an infinite truth in this Aristophanic judgment
applied to our modern cloud-worship. Assuredly, much of the love of
mystery in our romances, our poetry, our art, and, above all, in our
metaphysics, must come under that definition so long ago given by the
great Greek, "speaking ingeniously concerning smoke." And much of the
instinct, which, partially developed in painting, may be now seen
throughout every mode of exertion of mind,--the easily encouraged
doubt, easily excited curiosity, habitual agitation, and delight in
the changing and the marvellous, as opposed to the old quiet serenity
of social custom and religious faith,--is again deeply defined in
those few words, the "dethroning of Jupiter," the "coronation of the
whirlwind."

Nor of whirlwind merely, but also of darkness or ignorance respecting
all stable facts. That darkening of the foreground to bring out the
white cloud, is, in one aspect of it, a type of the subjection of all
plain and positive fact, to what is uncertain and unintelligible. And,
as we examine farther into the matter, we shall be struck by another
great difference between the old and modern landscape, namely, that in
the old no one ever thought of drawing anything but as well _as he
could_. That might not be _well_, as we have seen in the case of
rocks; but it was as well as he _could_, and always distinctly. Leaf,
or stone, or animal, or man, it was equally drawn with care and
clearness, and its essential characters shown. If it was an oak tree,
the acorns were drawn; if a flint pebble, its veins were drawn; if an
arm of the sea, its fish were drawn; if a group of figures, their
faces and dresses were drawn--to the very last subtlety of expression
and end of thread that could be got into the space, far off or near.
But now our ingenuity is all "concerning smoke." Noth