these questions. If this be a strange course of inquiry, is it an unreasonable one?

But let us not be too serious. The mistakes of men may sometimes be laughed at; and if any are found to spend their lives in seeking unprofitable knowledge-if any one delves all his days over learned trifles,

'And prizes Bentley's, Brunck's or Porson's note,
More than the verse on which the critic wrote,
This much at least we may presume to say,
The premium can't exceed the price they pay.'

Such men might certainly be worse employed, and if time is wasted, it is not mischievously abused.

A young friend came lately, in great dejection and discouragement, to ask some advice respecting the obstacles which he had encountered in reading the Iliad. I am now studying,' said he, the catalogue of the Grecian fleet; and I am exceedingly puzzled to find out the exact situation of all the places which Homer mentions, and to trace all the nations and tribes to which the Grecian army is referred. I have studied carefully all the notes of Heyne and Clarke, but these are not full enough.'

'And why do you wish to trace them?'

The young student was mute with surprise: This is a strange question,' muttered he to himself, 'to come from a teacher, and an admirer of Homer!' 'What, Sir, must I not study out all the proper names? I supposed I could not be a good scholar without it.'

Why should you? If you will think of this question, and give me a satisfactory answer, I will set myself at once to helping you.' But why did the commentators study so much upon these things?'

That is another question for you to think of; and instead of answering it myself, I will wait for you to give me your best conjecture on the subject.'

The poor fellow was amazed. Never had he been more entirely confounded: 'My teacher asks me, why should I learn it! How strange!' Such were his thoughts, as he returned to his studies. In a few days he called again. He seemed not to know how to begin the conversation.

'Well, have you made out an answer to the questions which startled you so much?'

Why, Sir; I cannot say that I am able to give any satisfactory

answer.'

'Well then, my young friend, I charge you not to spend time and strength in searching for the situation of Homer's Nisyrus, Crapathus, and Casus, until you give some valid reason for so doing. As to the commentators, what will not men do for fame? How many labors have men performed with this motive, which were not only useless, but pernicious?'

Such a reply was indeed unexpected. The young pupil seemed at once bewildered, and relieved from anxiety, by such a paradoxical sentiment. His mind had imbibed the common feeling that, mental labor never constitutes an abuse of time. The maxim, 'No item of knowledge is contemptible,' had misled his mind, and he had been accustomed to feel that learning must be great and good.

1837.]

Who would be a Scholar?

39

There is a sense, in which it may be truly said that nothing in the universe of God is despicable, except moral evil. The most minute portion of matter-the slightest organization-the obscurest fact in nature is worthy of the notice of Mind. But are there not choices to be made? IS EVERY man justified in spending his life in the comparing of the blades of grass, or the pebbles of the sand? No work of human skill is to be despised; and yet who may sit down to cut paper, or tie knots, as the business of his life?

We once called at the study of a fine young man, who had set out to do his best, and to make a scholar. He was pale with long and severe study, and seemed to labor under some special dejection. On inquiring into his course of study, he made the following state

ment.

'I have lately begun to read Cicero de Oratore. I have always been accustomed to hear Cicero spoken of as the prince of Latin writers, and I resolved to make myself master of one at least of his treatises, and to realize the whole benefit of a thorough and scholarlike acquaintance with this author. I commenced with the commentaries of Ernesti, Pearce, Proust, Harlessius, etc., etc., and resolved to know the whole. I soon came upon a passage which was obscure. I resorted to the Notes. Here I found six different readings proposed, and long comments on each. I read all the remarks of ny commentators, which occupied me an hour. The conclusion to be derived from them was, that the original language of the sentence was not to be decided upon, and that the meaning of the author was left to conjecture. I then undertook to investigate the meaning of a legal term used by Cicero. After reading several pages of notes, and consulting half a dozen books of reference, I made myself master of the suppositions of the learned on the subject. I next took up the name of a Roman orator whom Cicero mentions. I read at great length, and discovered that his name had been found in several instances in the Latin writers, and that critics supposed that two persons of the same name had been alluded to in these instances. I had commenced the study with resolution, and had determined not to come short of the advantages of the thorough scholar. But, for an hour before you come in, I had been thinking, 'What am I doing, and what end am I securing? What if I should know a thousand things of this kind? Cui Bono? I do not intend to be indolent or fickle, but these thoughts have, I confess, made me dejected.'

The young man's honest and heart-felt account of himself was calculated to make one pause. Here was a high-toned and vigorous mind wearing away its energies, and narrowing its scope of vision, under the bondage of that public opinion respecting true learning, which took its rise and its form in the cells of the monastery, where the mind will seize upon any aliment rather than prey upon itself, and expend itself upon trifles, because it is shut away from the great realities of life. A mind which was made to display its energies in the highest track of thought, and on the widest field of action, is imprisoned to count its beads, and mutter its task, in the temple of monastic lore. Public opinion must be subjected to frequent revision - let us not be pronounced radical - or errors will cling to the community, with the tendency of a mill-stone about the neck. An error, hallowed by strong and widely-connected associations, is not

easily exterminated. It passes on unharmed by those agitations which overwhelm the errors of a lower grade and humbler origin; and while the generation living in its shadow have never known the light which it intercepts, they regard it as a part of the system of things, and one of the conditions of their being. Thus has the high regard which mankind accord to mental efforts, as distinguished from physical, had the effect to hallow even the follies of intellect, and to prolong the existence of those errors respecting the cultivation of the mind, which lead us to regard it rather as a receptacle of hoarded knowledge, than as a thing of active powers; to seek the acquisitions of the scholar as valuable in themselves, rather than as giving scope and expansion to the energies of a noble existence, and in the high estimation which Education has properly imparted to the means of education, to make that mistake which comprehends so many others; to make the means the end.

JUNE.

THE Violet peeps from its emerald bed,
And rivals the azure in hue overhead;
To the breeze, sweeping by on invisible wings,

Its gift of rich odor the young lily flings,

And the silvery brook in the greenwood is heard
Sweetly blending its tones with the song of the bird.

The swallow is dipping his wing in the tide,
And the aspect of earth is to grief unallied;
Ripe fruit blushes now on the strawberry vine,

And the trees of the woodland their arms intertwine;
Forming shields which the sun pierceth not with his ray-
Screening delicate plants from the broad eye of day.

Oft forsaking the haunts and the dwellings of men,
I have sought out the depths of the forest and glen;
And the presence of June, making vocal each bough,
Would drive the dark shadow of care from my brow:
The rustling of leaves, the blithe hum of the bee,
Than the music of viols is sweeter to me.

When the rose bends with dew on her emerald throne,
And the wren to her perch in the forest hath flown;
When the musical thrush is asleep on its nest,
And the red-bird is in her light hammock at rest;
When sunlight no longer gilds streamlet and hill,
Is heard thy sad anthem, oh sad whip-poor-will!

The Indian, as twilight was fading away,

Would start when his ear caught thy sorrowful lay,
And deeming thy note the precursor of wo,

Would arm for the sudden approach of the foe;

But I list to thy wild, fitful hymn with delight,

While the pale stars are winking, lone minstrel of night!

Brightest month of the year! when thy chaplet grows pale,

I shall mourn, for the bearer of health is thy gale:

The pearl that young Beauty weaves in her dark hair,
In clearness can ne'er with thy waters compare;

Nor yet can the ruby or amethyst vie

With the tint of thy rose, or the hue of thy sky!

H.

1837.]

Random Passages, etc.

41

RANDOM PASSAGES

FROM ROUGH NOTES OF A VISIT TO ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, FRANCE, SWITZERLAND, AND GERMANY.

NUMBER THREE.

THE

HIGHLANDS

PERTH, STIRLING, ETC.

TUESDAY, JUNE 15.- - At 7 o'clock, on a fine morning, I left Edinburgh for the lakes and highlands. My route for the day was the same as that of the Antiquary and Lovel. The coach, however, was much more prompt than in the days of Mrs. Macleuchar, and started off while the clock of St. Giles was striking, from Waterloo-place instead of High-street. Arrived at Queensferry, seven miles, after a beautiful ride, modern improvements were again visible; for, instead of having to wait for the tide, as did Oldbuck and his friend, we drove down a stone pier, at the end of which the water is always deep enough, and transferring our luggage and ourselves to a sailboat just sufficiently large to contain the coach's company, guard, and coachee included, the canvass was spread, and in a few minutes we were at North Queensferry, on the other side of the Frith of Forth. Here we breakfasted; the landlord, who could produce a dinner 'peremtorie,' has been succeeded by one who has it already on the table at the moment the coach drives up.

The ride from this place to Kinross is not particularly interesting; neither is the scenery about Loch-Leven. I stopped, however, of course, at the village, and walking down to the lake, over some marshy flats, made a bargain with a couple of fellows to row me over to the castle, on the same side from which Queen Mary escaped. There is a boat, it seems, kept by the cicerone of the place, who charges five shillings sterling to each visitor-a great imposition. My men had to keep out of sight, lest they should be fined for trespass! The whole lake is owned by one person-Lord Somebody, who leases the privilege of angling in it, for £500 per annum, and the lessee charges a guinea per day for sub-privileges! It abounds with fine trout. The castle, which is quite a ruin, only one tower remaining entire, looks more like a prison than a place of residence.

'No more its arches echo to the noise

Of joy and festive mirth; no more the glance
Of blazing taper through its window beams,
And quivers on the undulating wave:

But naked stand the melancholy walls,

Lashed by the wintry tempests, cold and bleak,
Which whistle mournfully through the empty halls,
And piecemeal crumble down the tower to dust.'

The entrance to the chamber pointed out as Queen Mary's is not more than four feet high, so that you have to stoop in entering it. The gate through, which she escaped, with Douglas, is on the opposite side of the castle from her apartments, and not the usual place for leaving the island. The spot where she landed is yet called Queen Mary's Knoll.

After leaving Kinross, there is some fine scenery, particularly near

Perth, where I arrived about half past two. It is a large and handsome town, on the banks of the Tay. In my first walk through it, I noticed, as rather singular, a number of 'fair maids.' There is one, however, an inn-keeper's daughter, who seems to bear the palm, and is distinguished, I was told, par excellence, as The Fair Maid of Perth.' I saw several vessels, coaches, etc., thus named; and yet I could not find in the whole town a single copy of Scott's novel! Wandering down to the river, I saw a steam-boat just starting for Dundee, twenty-two miles' sail on the beautiful river and Frith of Tay, and the fare nine-pence! So, not being very particular in my destination, I jumped on board, and was off in a trice, without my dinner, which I had ordered at the hotel. The trip was very pleasant, for it was a lovely day; and at six o'clock I dined in the best style, on three courses and a dessert,' in a handsome parlor, at the Royal Hotel, Dundee, for two shillings- the cheapest dinner and trip I have had in his Majesty's dominions. Dundee is a very large and flourishing place, and carries on more trade and commerce than any other town in Scotland, Glasgow perhaps excepted. It is admirably situated, and has quite a city-like appearance. The docks would be an honor to New-York. After dinner, I walked out to Broughty Ferry, four miles, along the banks of the Frith, to call on Dr. DICK, the author of the Christian Philosopher, and several other very able and popular works. He has a little of the pedagogue in his appearance and conversation, but seems to be a very plain, kind-hearted man. He is very much interested in our country and its literature, and had many questions to ask respecting his correspondents here. He thinks we are far before Great Britain on the score of education; and says that such a work as Burritt's Astronomy would be quite too deep and scientific to be used in schools there. Of course, he touched upon slavery. He did not understand why the blacks should not be admitted into society, and considered as equals in intellect with the whites! In the little attic room, are a variety of scientific instruments, such as telescopes, orreries, etc. Among the books were his last one, The Mental Illumination and Moral Improvement of Mankind,' English and American editions. After tea, it being ten o'clock, and yet light enough in this northern latitude to read without a candle, the doctor kindly escorted me nearly three miles on my way back to Dundee.

THURSDAY MORNING, at six o'clock, I mounted a coach returning to Perth, with a fine clear sky, and the warmest day I have experienced in Britain. The road is along the banks of the Forth, and is very quiet and pleasant, passing several splendid seats; among them Kinfauns Castle, (Lord Gray,) in the bosom of the hills, fronting the water. Near this, on the banks, are found fine onyxes, cornelians, and agates. There is a handsome stone bridge over the Tay at Perth. This is a lovely river, the current being very swift, and the water deep, clear, and dark. After breakfast, I walked two miles

The Fairport' of the 'Antiquary.' Within the last twelve years, it has doubled in size and importance.