e's opinion, instead of Milton's,
on this matter of Church authority?--or for Dante's? Have any of you,
at this instant, the least idea what either thought about it? Have you
ever balanced the scene with the bishops in Richard III. against the
character of Cranmer? the description of St. Francis and St. Dominic
against that of him who made Virgil wonder to gaze upon him,--"disteso,
tanto vilmente, nell' eterno esilio"; or of him whom Dante stood
beside, "come 'l frate che confessa lo perfido assassin?" [6]
Shakespeare and Alighieri knew men better than most of us, I presume!
They were both in the midst of the main struggle between the temporal
and spiritual powers. They had an opinion, we may guess. But where is
it? Bring it into court! Put Shakespeare's or Dante's creed into
articles, and send it up for trial by the Ecclesiastical Courts!

26. You will not be able, I tell you again, for many and many a day,
to come at the real purposes and teaching of these great men; but a
very little honest study of them will enable you to perceive that what
you took for your own "judgment" was mere chance prejudice, and
drifted, helpless, entangled weed of castaway thought: nay, you will
see that most men's minds are indeed little better than rough heath
wilderness, neglected and stubborn, partly barren, partly overgrown
with pestilent brakes, and venomous, wind-sown herbage of evil surmise;
that the first thing you have to do for them, and yourself, is eagerly
and scornfully to set fire to _this_; burn all the jungle into
wholesome ash heaps, and then plough and sow. All the true literary
work before you, for life, must begin with obedience to that order,
"Break up your fallow ground, and _sow not among thorns_."

27. II.[7]--Having then faithfully listened to the great teachers,
that you may enter into their Thoughts, you have yet this higher
advance to make;--you have to enter into their Hearts. As you go to
them first for clear sight, so you must stay with them, that you may
share at last their just and mighty Passion. Passion, or "sensation."
I am not afraid of the word; still less of the thing. You have heard
many outcries against sensation lately; but, I can tell you, it is not
less sensation we want, but more. The ennobling difference between one
man and another,--between one animal and another,--is precisely in
this, that one feels more than another. If we were sponges, perhaps
sensation might not be easily g