But we must begin our inquiry by sharply distinguishing two fields of mental activity—­the field of art, including poetry, oratory, architecture, painting, and statuary; and the field of knowledge, including mathematics, natural science, physiology, with all their dependencies.  In the case of the first group there is room for variety of opinion; but the superiority of the Greeks and Romans in poetry and literary style may be admitted without prejudice to the mental equality of the moderns, for it may be explained partly by the genius of their languages and partly by political circumstances--for example, in the case of oratory, [Footnote:  This had been noted by Fontenelle in his Digression.] by the practical necessity of eloquence.  But as regards the other group, knowledge is not a matter of opinion or taste, and a definite judgement is possible.  Wotton then proceeds to review systematically the field of science, and easily shows, with more completeness and precision than Perrault, the superiority of modern methods and the enormous strides which had been made.

As to the future, Wotton expresses himself cautiously.  It is not easy to say whether knowledge will advance in the next age proportionally to its advance in this.  He has some fears that there may be a falling away, because ancient learning has still too great a hold over modern books, and physical and mathematical studies tend to be neglected.  But he ends his Reflexions by the speculation that “some future age, though perhaps not the next, and in a country now possibly little thought of, may do that which our great men would be glad to see done; that is to say, may raise real knowledge, upon foundations laid in this age, to the utmost possible perfection to which it may be brought by mortal men in this imperfect state.”

The distinction, on which Wotton insisted, between the sciences which require ages for their development and the imaginative arts which may reach perfection in a short time had been recognised by Fontenelle, whose argument on this point differs from that of his friend Perrault.  For Perrault contended that in literature and art, as well as in science, later generations can, through the advantage of time and longer experience, attain to a higher excellence than their predecessors.  Fontenelle, on the other hand, held that poetry and eloquence have a restricted field, and that therefore there must be a time at which they reach a point of excellence which cannot be exceeded.  It was his personal opinion that eloquence and history actually reached the highest possible perfection in Cicero and Livy.

But neither Fontenelle nor Wotton came into close quarters with the problem which was raised—­not very clearly, it is true—­by Perrault.  Is there development in the various species of literature and art?  Do they profit and enrich themselves by the general advance of civilisation?  Perrault, as we have seen, threw out the suggestion that increased experience and psychological study enabled the moderns to penetrate more deeply into the recesses of the human soul, and therefore to bring to a higher perfection the treatment of the character, motives, and passions of men.  This suggestion admits of being extended.  In the Introduction to his Revolt of Islam, Shelley, describing his own intellectual and aesthetic experiences, writes: