The last quality of Greek literature of which I wish to
speak is not one which we should expect to find in combination with
truthfulness; it is certainly very rare in modern realists. Yet the Greek
instinct for beauty is beyond question. There is the evidence of Winckelmann,
who, living in a world that had forgotten Greek, rediscovered it; or of Keats,
who was not brought up to the familiarity with Greek that breeds obtuseness and
indifference, but made acquaintance with it when he was of an age to judge. The
impression made both on Keats and Winckelmann is that of a new and surpassing
beauty. There is the evidence of 'the beautiful mythology of Greece',[122] the
offspring of an untaught folk-imagination, and so far richer in the quality of
beauty than the mythology of the North. Even in the sawdust of a mythological
dictionary the stories of Atalanta, Narcissus, Pygmalion, Orpheus and Eurydice,
Phaethon, Medusa keep their magic.