168 Than creep the lazy track of ancestry. talents of the author. The story is not when the clouds began to gather, and put on well constructed; it does not awaken cu- black and frightful appearance; the thunder rolled riosity, nor bring before the reader histor- sternly over the mountains, which answered in loud and angry echoes; and the lightning, in long forkWe believe that our extracts exhibit ical personages or events, of any great im-ed streaks, made the growing darkness show more fairly, the various qualities, good and bad, portance. This we were led to expect by terrible. The wind had risen, too, and roared of this play. Its author is a man of un- the title of the book, which at once carries through the forest with deafening violence;-while questionable genius, and of no contempti- the imagination to a spot, and a period, between the claps of thunder, the fall of some of ble dramatic talents, as he has sufficiently when an astonishing delusion clouded the noble trees on the hills, as they went down, crashing and overwhelming all beneath them, made evinced in his "Catiline," as well as in the the intellects and steeled the hearts of the ground tremble. My horse became alarmed, present play. But he needs to study na- men, quite as remarkable as many whose and at every peal shook like a leaf, and the rain ture. He may strut, and declaim, and be names are preserved by history. The now poured upon us in floods. In this unpleasant epigrammatic very well, upon his present story has not a sufficiently distinct location, predicament the old Indian's prophecy sped across plan; but if he would make a play that nor are the characters introduced so strik- my mind, and I found myself much less of a sceptic in vaticiny than I had been some hours before. shall deserve to rank among the immortal ing as to fix the attention strongly upon After gaining the top of a steep and very rugged works of the elder dramatists, and hand their conduct or their adventures. The in-hill, I was about to descend, when a solitary light down his name with theirs, he must quit his troduction, stating how the manuscript of at some distance from the highway suddenly threw artificial, declamatory, and farcical pro- the novel fell into the hands of the sup- its rays along the sheets of water which were rushpensities, must cease to strive so obvi-posed editor, may be taken as a fair speci- ing down the sides of the road like torrents, and towards the beacon I hastened with all possible ously for effect in every line, and be con- men of the author's general style. despatch. It was in the window of a log-house, tented to be simple and natural. He has During the last Summer, while on a tour through planted on the very peak of the mountain, and surentered on a path which he is capable of many of the Western States, my road lay not far rounded by a few acres of cleared land. I distreading well, and which he may have to from the famous Enchanted Mountain, in the State mounted, and without ceremony was about enterhimself, without rival or disturbance. of Tennessee, and I determined to gratify an ar- ing the door, when the master appeared and offered Other men of genius are imitating the au-dent curiosity by visiting a spot of which I had his welcome. He was a tall, noble-looking mounheard so much.-I travelled alone, and the noble taineer, nearly seven feet high,-possessing all the thor of Waverly. His example has dazzled animal I rode had already carried me nearly two easy freedom of a savage, and dressed in the cap and crazed them; and they seem to fancy thousand miles.-After following a rough and wan- and green frock of a hunter. He laughed as he nonothing so glorious as to be making the dering road for some time, without meeting any in- ticed the condition of my dress and bade me enter, same sort of books. This infatuation is dividual, a miserable Indian cabin appeared a few while he attended to my horse. He soon returned, suffered to go too far. It has reached our paces from me, and I advanced to gather instruc- and with hearty hospitality spread before me the tion as to the best route. An old, gray-headed contents of his larder. land, and infected multitudes. We rejoice Savage greeted me with civility, tendered the hos in any circumstance which may stimulate pitality of his hut, aud even consented to pilot me native talent to exertion; but we think it to the curious rocks.-He seized his long staff, a pity it should all take this one direction. closed the door of his cabin, and with a haughty Why leave other fields uncultivated? And and erect carriage, notwithstanding his great age, why not some one attempt the drama? Why not emulate Croly as well as Scott? A real tragedy is a far more difficult work, but at the same time a far more noble one, than a prose romance, and would ensure a better and more lasting reputation. There is not, perhaps, great fame to be derived from a theatrical exhibition in this country; though even here, the interest which has been taken in the treble success of a native writer for theatrical prizes, may prove that an original play of merit would command the attention and applause of the nation. Where is the author of " Percy's Masque?" Is the beautiful promise of that poem to be followed by no fulfilment? Having suffered one of its finest scenes to be transferred, without notice or complaint, to a novel which it has helped to make popular, will he still sleep, and do nothing further to challenge the credit which is his due? Let him remember-"Out of sight, out of mind." It is time he show himself again; for we would not forget him ourselves, or have him forgotten by others. The Witch of New England; a Romance. book. The dialogue is always animated, led the way. 'It will rain to night,' said the Cherokee. 'What are those vast piles of stone?' said I, "They are tombs of valiant chiefs, slain in the dreadful battle when the Great Warrior drove all before him,'-answered the Indian. We continued to ramble among the rocks till the retiring sun had capped the vast range of Appalachian Mountains with a glorious and dazzling diadem. Warned of the approach of night by this magnificent exhibition, I descended from the rocks; and having rewarded the Indian for his trouble, pursued my journey with as much speed as the way would allow. I had hardly ridden a mile, When I had doffed some of my dripping gar ments, which the wild-looking but pretty wife of my host, officiously took and hung near the fire, I sat down to my supper, congratulating myself, as the loud storm spent its fury around, that fortune had afforded me so lucky a shelter. 'Well, stranger,' said the mountaineer, 'eat hearty,-there's plenty of venison in the woods. And come, tell all the news-I haven't seen a paper for a fortnight. I have just come from a hunt. How do the Greeks and Spaniards come on?--I hope they'll gain their independence,--ion't you, stranger? Ha! they say now the battle is between the people and the kings-and I'll bet on the people, if they only follow the true track.' I afforded him the latest intelligence from Spain and Greece, which was so favourable to the cause of liberty, and he rubbed his hard hands together with much delight, and drank to the success and prosperity of the patriots. His loquacity after supper, as we drew near the fire, became almost incessant, but from its wildness and occasional fire, kept me amused and wakeful till near midnight.Mingled with a hundred anecdotes of his hunting exploits, he told me an interesting and melancholy story of a young traveller, who, during the previous autumn, had been suddenly attacked with fever, at his house, and after some few weeks' illness, during which he was most kindly nursed, had died, and now lay interred a few yards from the hunter's door. The little money the stranger possessed had been expended in procuring medicines,-the generous hunter had buried him at his own expense, and his eye glistened as he described the person and gentle manners of the deceased. The latter had left a bundle of manuscripts, which my host brrnght for inspection, saying, he believed they were some sort of histories, and as they were useless to him, if I chose they might become mine. Curiosity led me to accept the packet, which I deposited carefully in my saddle-bags, reserving it for future inspection. In the morning I bade adieu to my hospitable entertainers, and pursued my jour ney homeward. On examination, the papers proved to be sketches of scenery,-hints for description,--memoranda of incidents, and two or three narratives nearly finished. From several circumstances related in a sort of journal, the author appeared to have been journeying in search of health,-but impressed with a sad foreboding that change of scene and air would both prove useless. He spoke of himself as one without family or near relatives-and as a being for whom few or no tears would fall after his death. Indeed, from what I could learn, he died of a broken heart. I now select for publication, the following from among the Tales of the Traveller. EDITOR. The story commences about the close of the seventeenth century, when our Puritan ancestors had been established in New England for more than half a century. The two heroes-Edward Bradley and Charles Chesterley, the first the son and the second the protégé, of the Rev. Mr Bradley-are soon introduced. They learn from Uncas, a friendly Indian, that Samoset, a hostile and ferocious chief, was violently in love with Edward's sister, Agnes, and had determined to carry her away from her family by force; the attempt is made, and is defeated by Charles; of course, the rescued and the deliverer soon find out that they are in love with each other, and in due time are married;—and the Indian's endeavour to carry off Agnes, which is instantly and easily baffled, is the only event that occurs to roughen the course of their love. As the rescue of Agnes is one of the most important incidents in the book, we give it to our readers. Agnes, walking by the river side, is seized by the Indian. His air, stern and determined, had yet a gentleness when he addressed her, and his fierce and martial eye lost its ferocity when fixed upon her face, and assumed an expression of adoration mingled with sadness. With the instinctive sagacity of his tribe, the savage ceased rowing for a moment, drew the stil inanimate body of Agnes towards him, and placing her in such a manner as nearly to shield him, he again resumed the oar and pushed vigorously for the bank. 'I will fire,' said Charles, and preparing his rifle, written with great force. The last chaphe presented the piece, and again calling to the In-ter describes her trial and execution, and dian, warned him of his intention, and once more they are told well. Many of the circumordered him to desist and return. stances, particularly the statements of witnesses, are historically true; and our readers may read with interest the description of scenes which, it may be hoped, neither they nor their posterity will see passing before them in reality; scenes, which we could not believe were ever exhibited on earth, but for the most distinct and positive proof. The villain,' exclaimed Charles, and yet there is not a moment to be lost. Shall I run the risk and fire.' 'Yes,' answered Uncas, but the white hunter must now exert all his skill. I know the redman to be the Sachem Samoset, and the girl is surely the sister of your friend Edward.' shore.' An involuntary groan and exclamation of horror from Charles, at once evinced his prior ignorance and present fears. He faltered, and the rifle sunk from his shoulder. He trembled in every limb as he gazed, with a look of despair, upon the canoe now within a short distance of the landing-place. 'There is not a moment to be lost,' said Uncas, see, young man, the canoe flies rapidly,--a few more strokes of the oar and she will touch the 'Good God,' said Charles, 'should miss the wretch and murder her-it is too horrible.' 'Quick!-fire!' cried the Indian, or all will be lost. The Great Spirit will direct the ball,-fire.' Collecting himself by a strong mental effort, the youth seized his rifle ;-took deliberate aim,--and the report rung through the surrounding woods and hills, answered by a thousand echoes that at last died away among the distant cliffs. In an agony of doubt and fear, as the smoke disappeared, Charles gazed upon the canoe. The savage still held the oar. He made two or three strokes, each feebler than the former, tottered on his seat, and finally sunk to the bottom of the canoe. The terrified girl now attempted, with the eloquence of grief and despair, to deprecate the fear- Overcome by his feelings, the rifle dropped from ful fate that threatened. The Indian listened not his hands, and Charles fell, sick and exhausted, on without emotion,-but silently, and exhibiting no the ground. But Uncas, who had watched with symptom of change in resolution. Throwing her- deep attention the result, threw off part of his dress, self at his feet, she implored his mercy,-offered and plunging into the river, swam towards the boat ample reward, the friendship and gratitude of her that now drifted down the stream. He roon reach family,-threated him with the sure vengeance that ed it-entered, and catching the oar, speedily gainwould follow the perpetration of his crime !--buted the bank, where, in deep anxiety, his companion in vain,—the savage maintained his melancholy sat waiting his approach. air and inflexible purpose. At length, startled by some noise or rustling in the wood, he seized Agnes in his arms, and bore her, in spite of her struggles and cries, rapidly to the canoe. Overcome with her exertions and the horror of her situation, she fainted; and the savage placing her in the canoe, entered himself, and pushing from the bank, paddled rapidly down the stream. He used his oars skillfully, and was speedily gaining the middle of the river, when two dogs rushed from the thicket quickly followed by two men, one of whom carried a rifle. They appeared to have been attracted by the shrieks, which were loud, and uttered as by one in the extremity of terror and distress. They has tily gazed about them, and as the moon shed a bright and unclouded light upon the water, the canoe was soon discovered and hailed. No answer was returned from the boat, and the savage redoubled his exertions to gain a safe and level landing at some distance below. By Heaven,' exclaimed one of the men on the bank, I see a woman in the canoe, and the rower is an Indian.' 'Yes,' answered his companion, it is indeed a redman. But do you recognize the female?' 'No,' Having lifted the inanimate form of Agnes from the boat, they found, though covered with blood, she had suffered no injury from the discharge of the rifle. Placing her upon the grass, Charles proceeded to sprinkle her face plentifully with water from the river, and at length experienced the delight of seeing her once more slowly raise the lids of her eyes, and gaze with a stare of alarm and uncertainty around. Hastening to assure her of her safety-he endeavoured to collect her scattered senses, and make her aware of her sudden and happy rescue. For some moments the terrified girl seemed incapable of comprehending either her present situation, or the import of the tender and soothing attentions of her protector, whose questions she noticed no otherwise than by a wild and unmeaning gaze. At last, recovered by the cold and copious bath her deliverer had scattered over her face and temples,--with a profound and heavy sigh she seemed to regain her recollection, and seizing the hand of Charles, she involuntarily sunk into his arms. It is in such moments that art is forgotten, and nature triumphs. Our limits will not permit us to make a minute abstract of the story. There are some pictures of Indian manners, in peace and in war, and of the peculiarities which at that early age prevailed among our fathers, which are well drawn, but the whole said the other, that is impossible at this distance. She appears to be bound and motionless, or, from her silence, she must have fainted with terror. The two men, who proved to be Charles and Uncas, ran along the shore for some distance, following the canoe, and repeatedly calling to the rower to stop. The latter, however, returned no answer, but seem-power of the author seems concentrated ed to be exerting every nerve to reach the opposite bank, which he now evidently approached." He must not be permitted to reach the shore, said Uncas, if his foot touches the ground the lady will be lost.' upon his witch-Annie Brown-who is a little of a dupe, and much of an impostor, and altogether a most abandoned wretch; much that relates to her is conceived and The news of the capture of Annie Brown soon spread through the neighbouring settlements; and the ministers collected to debate and consult upon the course to be pursued. The belief in witchcraft was too deeply rooted, and the evidence brought against the unhappy woman, too strong to make the consultation long or angry. It was determined that she should be tried for the crime of sorcery, as well as for the murders of which she was strongly suspected. The day appointed for the trial at length arrived, and the prisoner, who had complained with feverish impatience of the delay, entered the court with the determined and insolent air of command, for which she had so long been remarkable. The room was crowded, and the deep, profound attention with which the multitude watched every motion of the undaunted female, was strongly coloured by the superstitious dread with which they still regarded her supernatural pretensions. Pale and anxious faces, with the fixed, unwandering eye, told of the anxiety and excitement with which the result was expected. Low and indistinct murmurs ran through the hall, and the narrators of her supposed spells, found willing, untired, and believing auditors. The solemn, dark, and severe countenances of the assembled ministers and judges, the terror exhibited by many of the spectators, the nature of the crime, and the dreadful punishment that waited upon conviction, with the unbending and haughty audacity with which the prisoner appeared at the bar, all tended to render the scene impressive even to awfulness. Silence was commanded, and the trial commenced. With breathless and unbroken attention, the audience hung upon the various, singular, and incredible evidence offered by a number of witnesses, who detailed with minute and solemn precision, numberless acts of the prisoner's necroits pleasures. The excitement which is the consemancy. There is a species of terror which affords quence of such fear, is akin to the delirious animation of which bitter and distasteful drugs are often the parent,-and to which those who use them cling with unconquerable and growing fondness. The idea of fear often gives a pungency to the exhibition, which without it would appear comparatively tame. Many of the auditors, while they listened to the detailed narratives of the hag's sorceries, trembled as they gazed upon her dark and uncommon features, but curiosity triumphed, and they remained in her dreaded presence, abiding the event of the trial. Many elderly men and women had given their called. Some little delay ensued, and it appeared testimony, when the name of a female witness was that the witness hesitated to advance. At the command of the Court, however, she moved towards the table in front of the judges. She was young, apparently not more than sixteen years of age, and as she placed herself at the table, her face wore a ghastly paleness, and her limbs trembled so violently, that she was forced to lean against the railing of she took her stand, but instantly withdrew her the bar. She cast a rapid glance at the Witch, as eyes with increased terror. Annie observing her horror, and irritated at the disgust and loathing with which the girl regarded her, determined, though she had, hitherto, maintained a surly silence, to revenge the insult offered to her vanity. Pique at the offence, which she now imagined had been aimed at her personal appearance, seemed suddenly to arouse all her pride and venom; and the red spot upon her dark cheek, and the sparkle in her eye, betokened the fierce violence of her awakened resentment. After relating many instances of the prisoner's witchcraft, the girl proceeded to tell that she had frequently been tormented by her in the shape of a black cat. That she had numberless times attempted to seize the animal,-but it had always eluded her vigilance, until one evening she suddenly rushed upon it with a large knife, and inflicted a wound on the beast's foot, after which it never reappeared. She heard afterwards, what tended to substantiate her suspicions, that the Witch had a bad wound upon her foot, which she no doubt had received while disguised under the form of the black cat. Such conclusive evidence was not to be resisted or doubted, and a murmur of horror and deep conviction ran through the crowd. Annie became almost maddened with rage, and watching her opportunity, she sprang upon the witness, and seizing her by the hair, exclaimed with furious passion, Ye lie, ye lie, you pale-faced chit, no drop of my blood was ever spilt by such a whey-face. But I'll see if a woman's nails can bring any from your white cheeks. I'll teach ye truth and better manners towards your elders.' The poor girl, in an agony of fear, made the room echo with her frantic cries, and when the surrounding men had torn the Witch from her victim, the latter was borne off utterly senseless, and with the blood streaming from her cheeks. This conduct contributed but little to influence the judges in her favour, and Annie was pronounced guilty of the crime for which she stood charged. Nothing now remained but that sentence should be pronounced upon the unhappy woman. The superior judge, an ancient and venerable looking personage, but who still, in his stern and unbending countenance, exhibited an expression of disgust and horror as he regarded the prisoner, thus addressed her. In the prosecution of this unfortunate affair, the justices, judges, and all others concerned, have conscientiously endeavoured to do the thing that was right. To this worthy end we have diligently and accurately consulted the precedents of former times, and the salutary precepts laid down and explained by learned writers about witchcraft. We have unweariedly studied Keeble on the Common Law, Chapter Conjuration. Sir Matthew Hale's Trials of Witches, printed 1682. Glanvil's Collection of sundry Trials in England and Ireland. Cotton Mather's Memorable Providence relating to Witchcraft, printed 1685. And it now remains for me to decide, and I do declare, that you Annie Brown have been proved guilty of the horrible and hellish crime of witchcraft, and that we do sentence you to the death, which you have by your wicked sorceries, so fully deserved.-And may God have mercy on your soul.' The wretched woman heard her fate announced with a calmness that shocked and intimidated many of the crowd. As the judge concluded his address, she turned to the officer, and with a steady brow and unchanging voice, said, They say the guilty fear to die, and tremble at the bare apparition of death. But I entertain no such dread, and it cannot come too soon. Come, lead me back to my jail, or rather to the gallows, that I may rid me from the gaze of those I hate and despise." Raising her tall figure to its full height, she advanced through the crowd, which gave way at her approach, and still seemed to regard her fierce and unbroken spirit with awe and terror. It was on a cold and gusty morning in the dreary month of November that a crowd collected around the door of the prison. It was the morning of the execution, and the assembled spectators, wrapt in their cloaks and hoods, waited anxiously and impatiently for the hour of death. I have watched the faces of a multitude on such a day, and found but little commiseration dwelling on the features of men or females. Impatient complaints at the delay-neartless sneers at the feelings and expected fate of the criminal, half-smothered and brutal oaths at being detained in the cold air, were the sounds that most generally fell, plenteous and disgustful, upon the ear. A knot of three or four women had collected near the door of the prison, and, at times, stood deeply interested in their conversation. An old and meagre looking female, with an air of doubt and derision on her countenance, seemed to be listened to with deference and curiosity, as she, in a low and broken voice, harangued her auditors. 'You have but little right as yet, Goodwife Dawson, to crow over her downfall. Betwixt the bowl and the lip much often falls, and it's a long step from the prison door to the gallows on the hill. Annie Brown is a powerful woman, and till I see her swing, I'll never believe that she dies on the gallows.' 'I scorn her, living or dead,' interrupted Goody Dawson, and if there wasn't a man to do the work, I'd tie the rope myself, about her filthy neck. There's but slight chance of her escape now, thank Heaven, unless she rides off upon her broomstick or her foul black cat. And neighbour Walford, here, looks as if she thought it as likely as not. The hag will not put her nails upon an honest woman's face again, I guess.' Ah! ye'll see when it comes to pass,' replied the other. 'But mark what an ancient woman tells you, and one that has witnessed many things that few others look upon. If I see her hang upon the beam, for all that I'll have my thoughts,-ye understand me, neighbour?' the awful preparations for his final task, and the minister, Bradley, advanced towards the unhappy culprit, to ask, for the last time, mercy on her crimes. 'She's a fearless woman,' muttered the old dame to herself, without taking her eyes from the Witch. Look, the minister is going to pray, before she sinks. It's a fine and an awful sight, that's certain.' 'She don't seem willing to hear the preacher,' whispered Dame Walford. 'She shakes her head at what he is saying. And now, behold, she looks fierce and angry. What is it she says to him? Can you hear, neighbour? See! see! quick,-Heaven bless us!-She has thrust the minister from her, and plunged from the scaffold.' true. MISCELLANY. [We print the following remarks because they 'Do ye think it will happen?' whispered Good-relate to an important subject, which in some parts wife Walford (with a pale cheek) to the oldest of our country demands an immediate attention, talker. They say she can fly if she chooses, and no one would mount the cart that could keep out.' if what is commonly said of certain literary and academic institutions in neighbouring states be We have not the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with the writer of these remarks, but are certain that he will agree with us in deprecating the folly which would undervalue the physical and natural sciences. They have their value, and will receive, in all enlightened ages and from all enlightened men, due culture. Still it is true, and should not be forgotten, that, excepting their important assistance to the mechanical arts, they have no true use or value, but so far as they may be made to throw a light upon the study of the human heart and mind-of man's hopes and duties. Yes yes, answered her companion, moving close to her side and whispering in her ear. And if you'll let me have the charm, you spake about, to guard against her walking through our lone house you shall have the ten shillings we talked of some days back.' You shall have it,' said the old dame, but hush, no more of that now. And have ye heard, gossips, of the bridal that's about to happen?' No-no,' answered the other, and approached with instinctive curiosity towards the announcer of news. 'Ah! well,' said the ancient relater of scandal, 'I always thought the sprightly young sportsman would be caught in that snare.' What! is the Madam Chesterly's son about to wed the minister's fair-headed daughter?' asked Mrs Dawson, interrupting her companion. 'If you had given an honest woman breath to tell her own news, neighbour, and not snapped the words from her mouth, you might have heard as much. As it is, you may make your own tale, and find hearers for it.' And if there's not another wedding on the anvil, I don't know a woman's eye,' said Dame Walford. She is a pretty and a nice lady, the daughter of the old general that was found dead in the forest, and who, the folks say, was the wicked murderer of the sainted king that's gone. If there be not love betwixt her and the minister's melancholy son, I have little skill in lovers' looks.' Do ye not hear the bolts drawing, neighbours?' exclaimed the eldest speaker. 'Behold how the woman walks. Ah! Annie, you were always a bold one. Come, let's follow and see all." We believe that this country, and perhaps this age, will witness a regard paid to education, which in point of earnestness, of wisdom, and of happy consequences, will be far beyond any thing that history has recorded. The institutions of our country are preparing us for this and the spirit of our institutions demands it. We shall gladly aid in this great work, with all our little power; and we doubt not that our readers will thank us for giving to them and to the public any valuable truths upon a subject so important as education. In this connexion we would state, that in our next number we hope to publish a review of a sensible and able pamphlet recently published by Mr J. G. Carter of Lancaster, respecting the means provided for public education in this State, and the true principles of instruction.-EDITOR.] MR EDITOR, The group pursued the prisoner, who now appeared (guarded by the officers of justice) issuing from the jail, and on her way towards the place of execution, at some distance on the hill. Of the If the enclosed remarks appear to you cortrio who had just closed their conference, the eldest rect, you will oblige me by publishing them. Though moved with all the speed and vigour of her worn-out not perhaps adapted very exactly to the meridian limbs, all feelings drowned in the eager longing of of Boston, the Gazette, in traversing the Union, ungratified curiosity. The Witch's former antagonist will, I can assure you, meet many to whose opinfed her hatred with an unwandering stare at the mis- ions-and practices too-these animadversions are erable object of her aversion; while her younger opposed in their full force. In the New England companion followed, pale, trembling, and faint with States, where all are educated, a mistaken notion the sight, yet still led on with the stream of the crowd. entertained by a few, with respect to the objects or When arrived at the spot where the career of an the true principles of education, can be but of little uncommon and fearless being was to close, a breath-consequence; the sound sense of the many will less calm reigned throughout the assembly. And correct the mistakes of the few, and just principles as the moment for the closing act of the disgusting will in the end prevail. But in those States which drama had arrived, the excitement of the specta- have no system of universal education and no tors, wound up to its full height, showed itself only eminently useful institutions to take the lead in. in deep, watchful gazing, and unbroken silence. forming public opinion; or which perhaps, are just The victim, with a firm step and steady gait, arousing from a lethargy of years, to a sense of the mounted the scaffold. The executioner finished importance of intellectual cultivation, in these the mistakes and misconceptions of a small number of W. R. J. REMARKS ON THE POLICY OF SUBSTITUTING OF THE UNDERSTANDING. ing the attention of the liberal scholar, from | may enlarge their conceptions, animate But besides the general motives which THE importance of education, as a means urge on the attention of men in all ages of securing national independence, as well and nations, the importance of this direcas personal freedom and happiness, is ful- Let us not be understood as undervalu- tion of human inquiry, we may find other ly established. The foes as well as the ing the natural and mechanical sciences. and more weighty arguments arising out of friends of learning act upon the admission It is not denied, that, so far as the knowl- the age and region in which we live. The of the fact. In this country it is probably edge of inferior beings may contribute to age is one most peculiarly interesting to seldom doubted or denied. But though the great end of advancing human improve- those who regard the advancement and education is by all acknowledged, in gener-ment, and of increasing human happiness, happiness of society. The relations of al terms, to be important, yet is not always it is deserving of a place among the ob- man to man, in all the social, civil, and reclearly understood, in what particulars the jects of our early pursuit. But we connot ligious institutions of the world, are bepublic is most intimately concerned in the allow it the first place, nor admit it even to coming daily more and more clearly undercause of general instruction; and it may stand in competition with those studies, stood. The dogmas of despotism,—the selfperhaps be owing to error on this subject, which refer directly to the mind, charac-derived power of sovereigns,-the homage that the efforts made for the diffusion of ter, and condition of man. Contemplate of subjects,—the legitimacy or illegitimacy knowledge have, in some parts of our coun-nature in whichsover department, and un- of this or that royal house,-the connexion try, availed so little towards forming a der whatever form you please, and you between patron and client,-between liege right national spirit, and building up a na- will still discover, that the true source of and vassal, with the influence of hereditary tional character. our interest in the subject, is the connex- wealth, and titles, are all gradually vanishThe world was long ago told, that "the ion of that subject with human beings or ing before those great truths, which are proper study of mankind is MAN.' Of late, human relations. It has been truly remark- now beginning to be understood. The ecohowever, there is some danger of its be-ed, that "it is a higher effort to unfold the nomical system of government also, as opcoming fashionable to controvert this plain passions, than to sketch a landscape; and posed to the burthensome machinery of that doctrine, not by maintaining the propriety that we are soon tired of the most highly plan, which reduced men to obedience by of ascending, as was formerly done, to the wrought pictures of natural scenery, unless dazzling their senses with pageantry, is investigation of superior natures, but of there is some Rinaldo in peril, or Erminia continually gaining advocates among all descending to the examination of inferior. in need of seclusion." It may be impor- classes of society, and most of all, among Passing from the extreme of mere meta- tant to subdue the physical elements, and the enlightened and reflecting. The inphysical speculation, and that unprofitable make them subservient to our wants and quisitorial cell was once a popular as well as contest which began and ended in a jargon conveniences;-but much more so, to sub- legitimate reward for the crime of judging of technicalities, some persons would go to due the chaotic elements of human society for one's self in matters of faith, and of the opposite excess of directing the whole to the form of a well regulated community. doubting the supremacy and infallibility of energies of the student to the examination It may be interesting to trace the growth him, whom a conclave had voted to be the of material or sensible objects, instead of and gradual perfecting of the plants that veritable successor of Saint Peter. But a employing them in the investigation of the spring from the earth in endless variety; voice from the penetralia of the Vatican laws and phenomena of mind, the bases but infinitely more so to mark the growth has told the world that even the inquisition, and springs of human duty, and the true and development of human faculties. It so long the favourite chastening rod of sources of human power. We are ready may prevent downright idleness, to employ mother church, is inconsistent with the to admit that, so far as man is to be rank- one's self in arranging, according to fan- spirit and character of the present age. ed with mere animals, or machines, so far cied or real resemblances, the most insig- Notwithstanding these comparatively aumay a material or mechanical education an- nificant tribes of shells, pebbles, insects, spicious appearances, these partial conces swer the purposes of his humble existence; and reptiles; but will any man, in his sober sions in favour of natural right, there is a and that, in every region and under every senses, place this paltry occupation in com- most fearful contest still waging between form of government, where permanent ar- petition with that of tracing the phenome-public opinion on the one hand, and inditificial distinctions of rank exist, a vast pro-na of mind, and from single facts and de-vidual interest on the other. Ages past portion of the community will be compelled tached observations, ascending to those to content themselves with a mean, mechanical sort of education. In such a state of society, the higher classes would never countenance the diffusion of knowldge on subjects touching the natural equality, the mutual obligations, the political rights, and the religious freedom of mankind. All the purposes for which they would wish any degree of knowledge diffused, would be thwarted by teaching these subjects to the mass of their fellow men. general principles which are observed to govern its operations? or, drawing from the memorials of history, eloquence, and poetry,—the sentiments, the opinions, the actions of men, under various circumstances, and combining into systems and codes the principles of moral duty and of political order? Even admitting, what is by no means certain, that few capacities only can embrace these great subjects,-still there are numberless pursuits besides the study It was a part of the policy of the dark of purely intellectual and moral philosoages, and is the policy of dark minds in phy, which yet refer immediately to man this age, to confine the pursuits of scholars and to his several relations, and which are to a few unimportant branches of knowl- unquestionably within the comprehension edge; to engage them in endless and aim-of the most ordinary abilities. The lanless disputes on subjects wholly beyond the reach of the human mind, or in trifling inquiries into matters beneath its notice and degrading to its dignity. By thus divert guages, customs, and manners of man, his have witnessed all the engines which despotic ingenuity could invent, levelled by particular states against the freedom of thought and expression. But the same engines are now taking a wider range. As we have read the histories of nations, we have been diverted, or amazed, or disgusted with the games of fearful hazard which rulers have undertaken to play with their respective vassals. We have often enough read of the assumption by sovereigns of the right to the entire disposal of the lives and fortunes of subjects, and we have even seen the brightest parts and learning prostituted to the vile purpose of strengthening in monarchs, the vain and impious conceit that God had not raised up a king for his people,-but a people for his king. But it was reserved for the present century to witness a simultaneous effort of the most powerful rulers of the earth, to impose on to their unhallowed and fearful proceedings is reconcilable with reason-with justice. If we have such duties to perform, such rights to maintain, such social interests to promote, then surely some subjects of study more noble, more manly, more liberal, less sordid and less sensual (we use the word in its original meaning) are demanded in expanding the intellectual powers of American citizens, than are required to fit, for mere personal thrift, the automata who crouch to the European dynasties. MORAL GOODNESS ESSENTIAL TO THE HIGH EST EXCELLENCE OF POETRY. the whole civilized world at once, the acknowledgment of this monstrous and preposterous doctrine. Nor is there, in the To oppose these arrogant pretensions, present case, the shadow of a decent re- this systematic and bold violence, not only spect for the common sense of mankind, in all the pecuniary resources and physical those who thus set at nought the rights of energies, all the learning of scholars and the governed. With an impudent effron- the talents of authors, must be thrown into tery, unparalleled in the annals even of the scale of reason and liberality;-but the their unblushing race, the despots of this enlightened opinions of an intelligent comage denounce the best of men, the wisest munity, whose influence is so appalling to of institutions, and the clearest of princi- treachery and perfidy;-the thoughts and ples, as dangerous to the happiness of man- feelings, the approbation or detestation of kind! Every machine, as well of corrup- united nations, whose sway despots themtion as of coercion, is to be put in motion selves acknowledge, while they quail beby those pious confederates. Every effort neath the moral sublimity of characters of the intelligent and independent, to main- which they cannot resemble, all must take tain the maxim that self-government is the part in sustaining the cause of justice, huright of the people, will but draw closer manity, and civilization. With reference and closer the bonds of union between the to this state of things, the education of princes who are in league for the suppress-men in all those matters that concern huion of this principle. man life and actions, that relate to duties Indeed if the balance of power was ever and interests, that refer to the experience seriously threatened, it is so at this mo- of past ages, or may beneficially affect the ment;-not the balance of power between moral and political condition of future a Charles and a Francis, a George and a times, is of incalculable importance. But Louis, or a Napoleon and an Alexander, if momentous in all countries, and under but between a band of arrogant pretenders every form of government, then how much to authority, their dependents and parasites more indispensable must it be in this, to on the one hand, and the millions of man- purify the fountains of public opinion; to kind, embracing all that is noble and digni- cherish in our institutions of learning a fied in morals and intellect on the other;-growth of manly sentiments and of just the balance of power between sober, enlightened public opinion, resting on the foundation of philosophy;-and the detestable and rotten prejudices of a benighted age, supported by the authority of the bayonet. The Turk is by no means the only foe to civilization that humanity has now to dread in her efforts at improvement and happiness. The crusade is no longer that of Christian against Mahometan, but of Christian against Christian. It is no more a war of extermination against Saracens, but of proscription against-liberals; no longer a struggle for the possession of the Holy Sepulchre, but for the maintenance of the Holy Alliance,-that sacred combination for perpetuating the blessings of bar-ous ramifications. barism. The first steps which mark the Men here claim to be free from all re-temple with a lofty dome in noble propor progress of this formidable conspiracy in straints of mere authority, in matters specevery land where it gains a footing, are ulative as well as practical; to possess not such as might readily be anticipated from the permission, but the prerogative, to ina knowledge of its composition and charac-vestigate the foundations of society and of ter; the silencing of deliberative assem- all its institutions. In most regions on the blies, the shackling of the press, the sup- other side of the Atlantic, the legitimacy pression of free genius, and the prohibition of one family as incumbents, in the suof foreign literature,—the closing of Uni-preme offices of state, is, practically at versities, the discouragement of general least, admitted. On these shores the origieducation, the abolition of all institutions which teach the true equality of men, and the denunciation of liberal principles on whatever subject and wherever extended. I well know, it may be thought needless to write of facts so well known as these are in this country. But it is not needless and ought not to be useless. Degraded will be our character and dark will be our prospects, when the doings and purposes of the banded legitimates of Europe are not watched with ceaseless and jealous scrutiny. Let the tale of their folly or their villany be thrice or ten times told, it ought not to be a dull one; scarce any reference Too much of what is most admired as poetry, in all ages, forces us to insist on a distinction between what merely shows the opinions on every subject relating to man. richness of the poet's fancy and his possesThe differences in condition and duties, be- sion of true poetical power. We maintain tween Europeans and Americans call for a that the object of poetry, as well as of all othcorresponding superiority of intellectual er arts, is to give pleasure and do good to man. culture on the part of the latter. In the The poet, who writes however skilfully on former, either total ignorance or at best topics or in a style calculated to corrupt the but a confined and mechanical education, reader's heart; the sculptor, who makes a for a great majority of the people, is per- marble statue, displaying the greatest perfectly consistent with the performance of fection of sculpture, but exhibiting a loathall the duties of submissive and profitable some object; the painter, who prostitutes vassals; in the latter the exercise of civil the most masterly pencil to base, mean, and functions is in some degree incumbent on wicked representations, have all shown every citizen; duties are imposed on them themselves respectively to be not merely dewhich are not to be successfully discharged fective in moral goodness, but unacquainted without an intimate acquaintance with the with the first secret of their art. They principles of human conduct in their vari-have committed the same error, which an architect would do, who should construct a tions, but in such a manner that the first time the sanctuary was thrown open, its walls would fall and crush a thousand men. Were this want of skill, he would be pursued as an impostor; were it intentional, as a monster. In poetry, as in the two other arts usually named with it, and as in eloquence, which in many respects resembles it, we nal inherent equality of men, and the right hold, that purity of feeling and goodness of of the humblest individual, if possessed of design are of the essence of the art; and talents and virtue, to aspire to the highest that he who wants them, wants, not somedistinctions, are points as undisputed in thing better than the talent to awaken adtheory as they are familiar in practice. miration, but wants the talent to awaken There the usages of the land, whatever the highest poetical admiration. We know they may be, and on whatever flagrant that whenever critic or moralist begins to abuses engrafted, are esteemed sufficient touch upon the duty of poets to serve the warrants to authorize the continuance of cause of goodness, and undertakes to point the most oppressive burdens, the most griev-bis artillery against licentious poetry; the ous violations of right, and the most palpa-offending bards are apt to sneer or smile at ble perversions of common sense. Here, it is not enough to adduce the naked fact, that our fathers followed this or that custom; we must show that the custom itself what is said, as a sort of official cant of customary ethics. We do not, however, wish to fall into this strain, though we take it there is such a thing as virtue, notwith |