the gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood;' that before that time, little literary labour was to be expected from the poor and hardy adventurers into an unknown land; surrounded by savage enemies; holding the plough with one hand and the musket in the other; and that since that time we have been vindicating our present rank among nations, through the agony of a revolution, and have been organizing ourselves into an empire. But the period has arrived when we must have a literature of our own. This cannot now be regarded as an ornament with which we may dispense, incurring in consequence only a little national disgrace; it must be considered as the safeguard of our best principles, habits, and feelings. It should be made an object of publick and of individual interest. There is no deficiency of talents in our country; its enemies have ceased to make this reproach; and literary exertion therefore will be in proportion to its encouragement. There will be men of letters enough, when the country is ready to afford them honour and reward. The one must be provided for them; and their claim to the other must be recognised and asserted; and there must be a general feeling, that our national reputation is implicated in the reputation of our national literature. In this too, as in other things, we are in some danger from an indiscriminate admiration of what we may see in older countries. There is little reason to reform our plans of education to bring them to a nearer conformity to theirs. It is not worth while for us to adopt from them traditionary usages, which ought long since to have become obsolete; and from which it would be happy for them if they could deliver themselves. Our plans of education are suited to our necessities. They are not adapted to overburden the mind with unprofitable learning; but they are adapted to effect what ought to be the great purpose of education, to call forth, and exercise and strengthen the different faculties of the mind. Mere scholars, mere literary artisans are but an inferiour class in the republick of letters; and certainly not that, which we have most occasion for. It is quite as well, to say the least, that our manufactories of lexicons and editions of the classicks should be at Halle and Göttingen, as that our manufactories of hardware and of woollen goods should be at Birmingham and Manchester. There is even less inconvenience in the former state of things than in the latter. The literature which we want is effective, practical, useful literature, the literature of the intellect and the heart. The men, whom we particularly need, are those, who may guide and form publick opinion and sentimentin matters of taste, in morals, in politicks, and in religion; men, who will think and write like the author of the address, which we have been reviewing. We wantalso those who may instruct us through the medium of our own history, and transmit it to posterity in the form in which it ought to be preserved ; those who may delight us with native works of imagination and genius; and those who may extend the bounds of natural science by exploring the riches of our own country. But we do not wish merely for the encouragement of men of letters who are particularly adapted to our necessities and circumstances. We ought to rejoice in every display of intellectual superiority among us. We ought to feel it an honour to our country and to our native state, that it can boast of a mathematician (it is unnecesary to name him) who rivals the first in Europe. We ought not to be satisfied or inactive, till our country is contributing its full proportion to the treasury of the intellectual wealth of mankind. Never in all past ages did a prospect so glorious rise to the view of any nation, as that which is disclosed to our own. Before some of those who may read what we are now writing, shall taste of death, fifty or sixty millions of men will have poured themselves over our country, carrying civilization and the arts to the extreme corner, where the last of our lakes meets the Mississippi ; and making the wilderness disappear before them, and ascending and passing the Rocky Mountains, where the Missouri has its source. The character and condition of this immense multitude depend upon nothing so much as upon the principles and feelings, which may be transmitted to them from the present generation. We ought to acknowledge the debt which is due to our posterity; and to feel that there is no responsibility more solemn, than that of those, who may in any considerable degree affect the destinies of such a people. 1 ORIGINAL POETRY. Translation of the Eighth Satire of Boileau; ΟΝ ΜΑΝ. Addressed to a Doctor of the Sorbonne. Exactly to relish the commencement of this satire, we must imagine the author in the presence of one of the faculty of the Sorbonne, who is full of his conceptions of the dignity and excellence of human nature. The Satirist may be supposed to have just drawn his hand over his face, and with a provoking solemnity, in which are still lurking the traces of a sneer, to begin thus ; Of all the living things, which walk or creep, Patience, what next?' some Doctor here exclaims, Already opes, I find, your saucer-eyes. Oh, very well'-you shrug your brow and say, A paradox may answer in its way; But where's the proof? that boldly I demand!' I'm charg'd and prim'd-so, Doctor, take your stand. (1) Ind. The reader must understand a Western Ind. Perou is the word in the original. Say, what is Wisdom? 'Tis that equal frame, To droop, when Sol begins his vernal race. And such is Man-flitting from black to white, (2) Bussi, in his 'history of gallantry,' enumerates many very criminal affairs of married ladies about the court. Whilst thus his brains in vapoury follies steep, And who denies it?" would you think it ?-I. But why indulge this suicidal care ?? (3) A famous gamester. , |