try so much has been supplied by our legislatures, that only a small part of the common-law remains applicable to us. And, however defective that remnant may be, it would surely be unwise to abolish it before a better system is devised. A tattered or a threadbare garment is better than none at all; and the community that, previous to providing a new system, deprives itself of the benefits of the old, would resemble in folly the man, who stripped himself and threw his clothes into the fire, because he found a tailor that could make another suit.

The delays of justice in Europe are said to be most vexatious. We read of a cause in France that continued in the courts one hundred years, and in England several years frequently elapse before a final decision. I will mention an instance of the despatch and simplicity of our forms. At a late court of nisi-prius, in Philadelphia, a cause that excited a great deal of interest was finally decided by a verdict, after mature investigation and able argument, within seven months from the day of its commencement; and this by no agreement or accommodation between the parties, but after going through all the regular steps of process and pleadings; where every inch was contested, and a desire to procrastinate manifested and avowed on the part of the defendant. As an example of the simplicity of our forms, it is also worthy of remark, that in this case the whole record, containing all the pleas, which are always in writing, would not have filled a sheet of letter-paper. How could justice be more expeditiously, or more simply administered? Yet this was not, by any means, a solitary instance; nor was there any reason why it was ended sooner than others of the same date, except that there happened to be no occasion to send to China or Europe for evidence.

Another advantage of the Pennsylvania system, which must not be forgotten, is, that where a groundless, vexatious suit is instituted, or a suit is defended merely for the purposes of delay, a judgment may be obtained, by means of the arbitration law, in the short space of six weeks.

If the picture I have drawn is a faithful one, where are we to look for the "legal frauds and robberies," so disgraceful and injurious to the country? If the profits of the profession are great, so is the number of those that share them; and no man in the commu

nity can earn his reward more laboriously, or in general, more usefully and honestly than a lawyer.

Isocrates, though he derided the avarice of the sophists, and shed tears at the receipt of his first stipend, exacted thirty pounds from each one of his hundred pupils. Cicero and Pliny made princely fortunes in the practice of law and oratory. Lord Coke's annual profits were estimated at fifteen thousand pounds—a sum equal in value to five times that amount now; and Erskine's, before he became a minister, at twenty thousand guineas. Compare these sums with the profits of the most successful practitioners in the United States, and say where the "legal robberies" are, if they are anywhere.

Now, sir, it is time for me to pause; and if, in defending a profession that I venerate as the nurse of genius and the school of eloquence, and taste, and science-a profession that gives the fullest scope to active charity, and the highest polish to intellectual refinement, I have lingered into dulness, or been betrayed into asperity, the indefinite nature and extreme virulence of the attack which I have endeavoured to refute, must form my apology.

V:

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE-FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

THE auchor of the following eulogium is assured, that he need urge upon the editor of the Port Folio no other consideration to induce him to insert it in his miscellany, than the single one that by so doing he will pay a just tribute to the most distinguished merit.

LECURES ON MORAL PHILOSOPHY.

The friends and promoters of polite learning in our country will, we are confident, be much gratified by being informed that the reverend Dr. Smith, president of Princeton college, has lately consented to the publication of his "Lectures on Moral Philosophy." To the graduates of that seminary, who have studied this system of philosophy, or to those who are acquainted with the other works of this able and celebrated author, nothing need be said in recommendation of this performance. The treatise of the same writer on the "variety of figure and complexion in the human spe

cies," has been translated into several languages of Europe, and is, undoubtedly, one of the most profound and learned philosophical productions of our country. The volume of sermons he has published, will not be diminished by a comparison with the finest specimens of pulpit eloquence furnished us by France or England. His "Lectures on the Evidences of Christianity," do honour to American literature, and hold a high rank among the treatises of Grotius, Stillingfleet, Paley, Beattie, and those numerous writers on the same subject, who have displayed such masterly force of reason and such extent of erudition. The work which the learned and reverend author now offers to the public, fully answers the expectations excited by his prior merit, and is a masterpiece of its kind. It exhibits to us a mind enriched with all the treasures of science; is characterised by the same just and philosophical views of things; the same profound and extensive erudition; the same fertility of invention and felicity of conception and illustration, and the same neatness, perspicuity and elegance of style, that distinguish all his other performances; and we hesitate not to pronounce, will form a noble and lasting monument of his genius.

We shall be accused of indulging the language of extravagant panegyric-it is conceded that this may possibly be the case; for who that has had the happiness of being educated at the feet of the philosopher of Princeton, that accomplished scholar, and our American Aristotle, does not feel disposed to speak of him in terms of ardent and enthusiastic praise. But we are not singular in the opinion we have formed of this author, and we are perfectly assured, that the more his works are, not only read, but studied, the more highly will they be appreciated. They have already gained him honourable mention among the literati of Europe and America; and we are informed by a young gentleman lately returned from the colleges of Europe, after having finished his education there, and who himself promises to become one of the hopes of his country, that Dugal Stewart, unquestionably one of the first philosophers of the age, expressed himself in terms of high encomium of Dr. Smith, as a man of sound learning and an able and correct writer: and the approbation of Dugald Stewart is fame.

With such high and incontrovertible claims to attention, we confidently trust that this work of the reverend president will meet

with encouragement proportioned to its merit, from all those who have at heart the interests of science, or any regard for the literary character of our country. While the generosity of the public has been so grossly abused, and its patronage and favour so repeatedly lavished upon the crude effusions of ignorance and vanity, that vitiate our taste at home and injure our literary reputation abroad, it is fervently to be hoped that a performance of real science and solid merit will not be overlooked and neglected.

ORIGINAL POETRY.-FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

A DREAM.

THE rosy hour of eve had blush'd,

And dim through clouds pale Hesper shone;
All sounds save whip-poor-will were hush'd,
And sleepless Echo's fainter moan.

The poplar's darkly waving form

Bent graceful to the passing wind;
I heeded nought, for Memory's charm
To former scenes allured my mind.
The chill breeze o'er my bosom blew,

My sighs would mingle with the blast,
And tears would stream to dim my view,
Of Hope's sweet vision as it pass'd.

Still the warm tear would dim my eye,
My cheek the trickling tribute felt;

Till slumber hush'd my trembling sigh,
And softly on my senses dwelt.

No blissful vision Fancy wove,

With no sweet dream my slumbers blest;

Portrayed no scene of social love,

But sought the ocean's wavy breast.

And lo, on yonder lovely green

She bade the mighty billows roar; And horrid rocks deform a scene

That ever smil'd in peace before:

And there a bark with quivering sail,
Paus'd on the ocean's treacherous breast,
And waiting but the rising gale,

Claimed one short hour of doubtful rest.

Sad on the vessel's side I stood,

Nor heard the waves' tremendous roar, Nor mark'd the wild surrounding flood; My heart, my soul was on the shore.

There were the friends whose loves had strown With flowers the early walks of youth, Whom I from infancy had known,

And felt their love and proved their truth.

There shriek'd a mother's wild alarms;
There spoke a sister's rising pain,

And there a father's open arms,

To clasp his child were stretch'd in vain.

From yon sweet grove a zephyr flew,

And slow the unwilling vessel mov'd;

But stronger now the breezes blew,

And bore me from the scene I lov'd.

Deep from my soul arose the sigh,

More faint and faint the shore appears,

Fast fading to my aching eye,

And dimly seen through streaming tears.

I shuddered on the awful brink

Of losing this retiring view,

And fond Affection's tender link,

Still strengthen'd as the distance grew.

At length a shadowy vapour twin'd,
Cerulean round the distant shore;