of principles, though more intelligence and liberality than belong to a low state of civilization are necessary to its just appreciation and application. Whatever contributes to the growth and satisfaction of the mind, whatever has in it any absolute beauty, is beginning to be regarded as not less useful than that which ministers to our physical necessities. All works, even of imagination, must have in them something of genuineness and earnestness. Poets, and novelists, and essayists, when they write, must look not only into their minds, but into their hearts. To persons of the sensibility and refinement which are inseparable from high cultivation, all truth is of a practical value, and in the most aerial creations it will be demanded by the first order of critics. The old sources of intellectual excitement seem to be wellnigh exhausted. Love will still be sung, but in no sweeter strains than those of Petrarch or Tasso; Courage such as is celebrated by the old poets and romancers is happily in disrepute; Religion, as it has commonly appeared in the more elegant forms of literature, has not been of a sort that ennobles man or pleases God; and Ambition, for the most part, has been of a more grovelling kind than may be looked for under the new forms of society. Christian virtue is no longer the observance of senseless pagan forms that have been baptized, but “the love of truth, for its own beauty and sweetness;" and the desire of man is not so much to win titles and power, as the consciousness or the reputation of doing something that shall entitle him to the general respect and gratitude. The materials among us for .the externals of literature have been referred to. The elements of its vitality and power, which are most clearly apprehended in this century, though in their nature universal, for many reasons are likely to be most active with us. "Peace on earth, and good will to man," is here to be the principle of life and progress, in Letters, as in Religion and Politics. Considering the present condition of society,-that new inventions are constantly releasing immense numbers from a portion of the toil required for the satisfaction of physical necessities, and giving to all more opportunity for intellectual pursuits; that steam and electricity are making of the world a common neighborhood, knitting its remotest parts together by interchange of fabrics and thoughts; that the press, in the United States alone, scatters every hour more than the contents of the Alexandrian Library, and is increasing in refinement and energy with the expansion of its issues; and that associations for moral and intellectual improvement were never more numerous or efficient,—we cannot doubt that the Progress of Civilization in the coming age will be rapid and universal. This country, which is the centre of the new order of things, is destined to be the scene of the greatest conflicts of opinion. Much as has been done here in literature and art, much as we have surpassed all reasonable expectation in the works of our philosophers, orators, historians, and poets, while clearing away the primeval forests, organizing society, and establishing the institutions of scientific and literary culture, we have not yet that distinct image of the feelings of the nation, in a great body of works in all the departments of reflection, imagination, and taste, of which the auspicious commencement of our literature, and our advantageous position with regard to the most. important subjects of research and speculation, justify the hope. Schools may be well endowed, and individuals may labor with loving earnestness upon their life-poems, but the whole people, by recognizing the principle of beauty as a law of life, and cheering with their encouragement its teachers who shall deserve their best approval, and by cherishing a hearty love of our country, and making ceaseless efforts to render it in all respects worthy of affection, must aid in rearing the noble structure of a National Literature that shall fulfil our promise to mankind, and realize the prophecy which nearly a century ago was made of our destiny by one of the wisest of the sons of Europe. The Muse, disgusted at an age and clime In happy climes, where from the genial sun In happy climes, the seat of innocence, There shall be sung another golden age, Not such as Europe breeds in her decay, Westward the course of empire takes its way; A fifth shall close the drama with the day: BERKELEY. CROCODILES ON THE ST. JOHN'S. WILLIAM BARTRAM. [The history of American science in the eighteenth century is confined to a very few names, of which by far the best known are those of Benjamin Franklin and the two Bartrams, father and son. John Bartram was born in Delaware County, Pennsylvania, in 1701. He and Franklin were the first Americans to gain a European reputation as scientists, Linnæus pronouncing John Bartram "the greatest natural botanist in the world." He established a fine botanical garden near Philadelphia, enriched with many rare plants. This garden still remains, having in its centre the quaint old stone mansion built by Bartram with his own hands. He died in 1777. His son William, born in 1739, was equally active in botanical pursuits, and made a five-years' exploration of the natural productions of the region from the Carolinas to Florida. The work in which this expedition is described, "Travels through North and South Carolina, Georgia, and East and West Florida," is full of interesting and valuable information, descriptive of a state of nature which no longer exists. Crocodile-hunters in Florida, for instance, might not care to find their game in such profusion as is described in the following vivid narrative. William Bartram died in 1823.] THE evening was temperately cool and calm. The crocodiles began to roar and appear in uncommon numbers along the shores and in the river. I fixed my camp in an open plain, near the utmost projection of the promontory, under the shelter of a large live-oak, which stood on the highest part of the ground and but a few yards from my boat. From this open, high situation I had a free prospect of the river, which was a matter of no trivial consideration to me, having good reason to dread the subtle attacks of the alligators, who were crowding about my harbor. Having collected a good quantity of wood for the purpose of keeping up a light and smoke during the night, I began to think of preparing my supper, when, upon examining my stores, I found but a scanty provision. I thereupon determined, as the most expeditious way of supplying my necessities, to take my bob and try for some trout. About one hundred yards above my harbor began a cove or bay of the river, out of which opened a large lagoon. The mouth or entrance from the river to it was narrow, but the waters soon after spread and formed a little lake, extending into the marshes: its entrance and shores within I observed to be verged with floating lawns of the pistia and nymphea and other aquatic plants: these I knew were excellent haunts for trout. The verges and islets of the lagoon were elegantly embellished with flowering plants and shrubs; the laughing coots, with wings half spread, were tripping over the little coves and hiding themselves in the tufts of grass; young broods of the painted summer teal, skimming the still surface of the waters, and following the watchful parent unconscious of danger, were frequently surprised by the voracious trout; and he, in turn, as often by the subtle, greedy alligator. Behold him rushing forth from the flags and reeds. His enormous body swells. His plaited tail, brandished high, floats upon the lake. The waters like a cataract descend from his opening jaws. Clouds of smoke issue from his dilated nostrils. The earth trembles with his thunder. When immediately from the opposite coast of the lagoon emerges from the deep his rival champion. They suddenly dart upon each other. The boiling surface of the lake marks their rapid course, and a terrific conflict commences. They now sink to the bottom, folded together in horrid wreaths. The water becomes thick and discolored. Again they rise. Their jaws clap together, re-echoing through the deep |