YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY WRITINGS OF HUGH SWINTON LEGARL', LATE ATTORNEY GENERAL AND ACTING SECRETARY OF STATE OF THE UNITED STATES : CONSISTING OF A DIARY OF BRUSSELS, AND JOURNAL OF THE RHINE; EXTRACTS FROM HIS PRIVATE AND DIPLOMATIC CORRESPONDENCE ; ORATIONS AND SPEECHES; AND CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE NEW-YORK AND SOUTHERN REVIEWS. PREFACED BY A MEMOIR OF HIS LIFE. EMBELLISHED WITH A PORTRAIT. EDITED BY HIS SISTER IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. CHARLESTON, S. C. : BURGES & JAMES, 6 BROAD-STREET. PHILADELPHIA: THOMAS, COWPERTHWAIT & CO. NEW-YORK: D. APPLETON & CO. BOSTON: JAMES MUNROE & CO. 1845. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1845, By Mary S. Legare, In the Clerk's office of the District of South-Carolina. CHARLESTON: BURGES AND JAMES, PRINTERS, 6 BROAD-STREET. TABLE OF CONTENTS. VOLUME II. CONTRIBUTIONS TO SOUTHERN REVIEW. Page. 1. Classical Learning, 5 2. Roman Literature 52 3. Kent's Commentaries, 102 4. Craft's Fugitive Writings, 142 5. Travels of the Duke of Saxe- Weimar, 166 6. The Disowned. — Tales of the Great St. Bernard, . . 180 7. Cicero de Repitblica, . . ...... 216 8. Hall's Travels in North-America 254 9. Early Spanish Ballads. — Charlemagne and his Peers, . . 299 10. Sir Philip Sidney's Miscellanies, 334 11. Lord Byron's Character and Writings, 356 12. Byron's Letters and Journals, 411 13. Jeremy Bentham and the Utilitarians, 449 14. Codification, 482 15. The Public Economy of Athens, 502 16. D'Aguesseau, 559 WRITINGS OP HUGH SWINTON LEGARE. CLASSICAL LEARNING.* 1. An Address on the Character and Objects of Science, and especially on the influence of the Reformation on the Science and Literature, past, present and future, of Protestant Nations ; delivered in the First Presbyterian Church, on Wednesday, the 9th of May, being the Anniversary of the Lite rary and Philosophical Society of South-Carolina. By Thomas S. Grimke. 8vo. C/tarleston. MiUer. 1827. ¦2. An Address, delivered before the South-Carolina Society, on the occasion of opening their Male Academy, on the 2d July, 1827. By Wm. Geo. Read, Principal of the same. 8vo. Charleston. Miller. 1827. 3. Inaugural Discourse, delivered in Trinity Church, Geneva, New- York, Au gust 1st, 1827. By the Rev. Jasper Adams, President of Geneva College. Geneva. 1827. We Americans take nothing for granted — except, indeed, as it would appear from the tone of some recent publications — the immeasurable superiority of those who have lived to see this "Age of Reason," over all that have not been so fortunate. With this exception, however, (since we must needs consider it as such,) all postulates are rigorously excluded from our most approved systems of logic — and when, in the fulness of time, those mathe maticians shall rise up amongst us, who, according to a cheering prophecy of Mr. Grimke, are to throw into the shade, as intel lectual beings, the Newtons and the La Places,. no less than the * [The reprint of this and the following articles, from the "Southern Review," is made from a bound copy of that work, which belonged, to Mr. Legare', and which was revised by him, as indicated by frequent notes, penned or pencilled by him, on the margin or at the foot of the several numbers. We shall indi- VOL. II. 1 6 CLASSICAL LEARNING. Euclids and the Apollonius,' we shall scarcely be satisfied with their improvements in geometry, unless they begin by demon strating its axioms.* We take up all questions de novo, and treat every subject of general speculation and philosophy, no matter how frequently and fully discussed, or how solemnly de cided elsewhere, as what is called at. the bar res Integra, that is to say, as fair game for criticism and controversy. Besides this, we may be permitted to observe, while we are upon this topic, that the pleasant exhortation, mon ami, commence par le corn- mencement, seems to have been made expressly for our use. We are for coming out on all occasions, not only with the truth, but the whole truth, and seem utterly unable to comprehend the reason of that peevish rule, Nee reditum Diomedis ab interita Meleagri, Nee gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo. For instance, it would not surprise Us much if a member of Con gress from one of the more enlightened, because less ancient and prejudiced States, should introduce a speech upon the Co lonial Trade by a "brief account of Columbus and his dis coveries, as it is every day's experience to see even our leading politicians lay hold of the most casual and ordinary questions of commerce and finance, to spout whole volumes of the merest rudiments and generalities of political economy. There are some people, we dare say, in this censorious world, who would be apt to consider all this as outrageously rational ; but, perhaps, after all, it will not do in so new a country to adopt old ideas and assume established truths — and no one, we humbly conceive, can address the American public with effect, who is not himself patient enough to begin at the very beginning, and to accommo date his mode of discussion to this decided national predilection for elementary inquiry, and regular and exact demonstration according to the utmost rigour of the logical forms. We have thought it advisable to premise thus much, at the very outset of our critical labors, by way of preventive apology, cate these marginal notes by enclosing them in brackets. On a blank leaf of the first volume are the following remarks and quotations in pencil : ["As this volume has many typographical errors, the reader must let Martial speak for us all : ' Si qua videbunlur chartis tibi, lector, in istis, Sive obscura nimis, sive latina parum ; Non meus est error ; nocait librarias illis, Dum properat versus annumerare tibi.'— I. 2. Epig. 8. But if we complain, what must it have been before printing was invented 'De latin- is' vero, says Cicero, 'quo me vertam, nescio ; ita mendose et scribuntur et veneunt.' Epist. ad amntum Prat. 1. 3. b. Epist.5. Cf. Aul. Gell. 1. U. c. 14,, et passim. Strabo. 1. 13. A. Gell. 1. 20. c. 6."] • [***• Nondum tritis nostrorum hominum artribus nee erudita civitate tolerabiles (loci inanes). Cic. de Orat.] CLASSICAL LEARNING. 7 so to speak, for the manner in which we shall find ourselves con strained to examine many matters that are considered in other countries as quite settled. For instance, a formal discussion at this time of day, of the comparative merits of the ancients and moderns, and the advantages of a classical education, would be set down in England by the side of that notable argument to prove, that a general can do nothing without troops, of which Cicero,* if we mistake not, has somewhere made such honorable mention. But what might there very properly be rejected as supererogation, or even quizzed as downright twaddling, (to borrow a phrase from an English magazine) may be imperiously called for- by the state of public opinion on this side of the At lantic. The Edinburgh Review, in an able and elaborate article on Cobbett's writings, despatched his opinions upon the subject now before us in a summary and sweeping denunciation, as "his trash about the learned languages." But what shall we say, when in the midst of a society, once distinguished above all others in this country by these very attainments,t a gentleman having so many and such high claims to our respect, as Mr. Grimke, de clares it to be his solemn conviction — and that too, founded, as he assures us, upon the fullest and fairest experiment — that they are absolutely good for nothing. Nor does that gentleman stand alone. We have frequently heard the same opinions expressed by persons of scarcely less authority and influence in the south ern states, to say nothing of occasional essays in the newspapers and periodicals, and discourses before the philosophical and literary societies of other cities. It is quite impossible, there fore, we apprehend, however strongly inclined we might be to do * [ II. Off. 5. Panaetius, of whom Cicero says, "utitur, in re non dubia, testi- bus non necessariis."} t Before and just after the Revolution, many, perhaps it would be more accu rate to say most, of our youth of opulent families, were educated at English schools and universities. There can be no doubt their attainments in polite lite rature were very far superior to those of their contemporaries at the north, and the standard of scholarship, in Charleston was, consequently, much higher than in any other city on the continent. We have still amongst us a venerable relic of that cultivated and heroic age, whom we may single out without an invidi ous distinction, and to whom we gladly avail ourselves of this opportunity to offer a tribute justly due to such a union, in one accomplished character, of the patriot, the gentleman, and the scholar — of the loftiest virtue, exercised in all the important offices and trying conflicts of life, with whatever is most amiable and winning in social habitudes, in polished manners and elegant taste. To add that he is now crowning the honors of his useful and blameless life, with a blessed and venerated old age, is only to say, that he has received the sure reward pure et eleganter acta, cetatis. But there is something melancholy in the reflection, that the race of such men is passing away, and that our youth are now taught to form themselves upon other models. These improvements, with so many more, are beginning to spring up and blossom with great freshness and luxuriance about the favoured city of Boston — our Western Florence, in which industry has been the willing tributary of letters and the arts, and which is, throughout all its insti tutions, its character and its pursuits, one great monument of what commerce has done to civilize and adorn life. CLASSICAL LEARNING. so, to consider the instance before us as a mere sporadic case, deserving, indeed, on account of its peculiarly aggravated symp toms, to be remarked and recorded as a striking phenomenon in its kind, but not calculated to excite any alarm from its sup posed connexion with the state of the atmosphere, or its probable effects upon the general health of the vicinage. We do believe, on the contrary, that this grievous malady is rapidly becoming epidemical, and that it behoves all, who, with us, think it a mat ter of serious public concernment, that its progress should be arrested, to apply the most efficacious remedies, and adopt all necessary precautions with the least possible delay. As our observations will be chiefly confined to such parts only of the three discourses named at the head of this article, as relate to the study of the classics, it will, of course, be unnecessary to enter into any thing like a detailed analysis of them. We will briefly state, that the first in the order of time was Mr. Grimke's, Which was delivered at the last anniversary of the Literary and Philosophical Society of this city ; and that its principal object seems to be, to make out, by a comprehensive survey of the history of the human mind, the two following propositions : — First, "that more has been done in three centuries by the Protest ants, in the profound and comprehensive, the exact, rational and liberal development, culture and application of every valuable department of knowledge, both theoretical and practical, than has been done by all the rest of the world, both ancient and modern, since the days of Lycurgus," (page 50) ; and, secondly, "that in every department of knowledge, whether theoretical or practical, where thinking and reasoning are the means and the criterion of excellence, our country must, if there be truth and power in the principles of the Reformation, (and that there is, no man entertains so little doubt as Mr. Grimke) surpass every people that ever existed," (page 65). To establish and illustrate these propositions, our author has certainly spared no pains. Beginning at a period not more recent than the creation itself, he pries into the secret recesses of the garden of Eden, and speculates about the branches of science, with which it were most reasonable to suppose that its happy inmates were particu larly conversant. He has not, therefore, gone quite so far as the Rabbins, who ascribe to the first man the perfection of all knowledge and wisdom; and among whom, "as learned as Adam," is a proverbial saying. We will just remark in passing, that his notions of these primitive and paradisiacal accomplish ments reminded us, a good deal, of a grave disquisition in Dante s Tractate de Vulgari Eloquio ; in which the Father of modern poetry has endeavoured to shew, that Adam spoke or must have spoken, or should have spoken before Eve— that his first word was Eh or Eloi— and his mother tongue (if it is not a CLASSICAL LEARNING. catachresis to call it so) the Hebrew. From this remote period Mr. Grimke rapidly descends to the sera of the Reformation, dis tinguishing the intermediate space of about 5523 years (to imi tate his own precision) by such epochs as the building of the Tower of Babel and its disastrous results — a gigantic enterprise, he observes, "to be undertaken by the new world when only 115 years old" — the call of Abraham, the exodus of the Jews, the age ofThales, &c. Looking back from the last mentioned sera to take a survey of what the human race had done to better its condition, or to elevate its character, Mr. Grimke affirms that "the moral improvement of man, and the cultivation of those sciences, which relate to his political and moral welfare, were totally neglected ;" and adds, with great emphasis, "the people were as yet unnoticed and unknown in the history of science." We call the particular attention of our readers to these passages, and especially to the last, because we shall have occasion, in the sequel, to expose what appears to us, to be a singular con fusion of ideas that runs through them all ; and, indeed, through the whole discourse from which they are extracted. But it is upon the second proposition that our author enlarges with the greatest fondness and triumph. He is evidently one of those that indulge in the pleasing day-dreams of perfactibility. He seems persuaded that the world, or at least this part of it, is to end, as other parts of it are fabled to have begun, with a race of (intellectual) Titans. In his visions of the future glories of his country, his imagination is wrought up to the highest pitch of rapture, and he pours out prediction after prediction, with all a patriot's enthusiasm and a prophet's fire. • "I fear not," he says, "the great names of Archimides, Aristotle and Plato, of Demos thenes and Cicero, of Tacitus and Thucydides. I know that we must excel them. I fear not the greater names of Bacon and Newton, of Locke, Butler, Hume and Robertson, Chatham, Burke and Pitt. I know that we shall surpass them also." (p. 66.) These immortal men, it seems, did but lay the foundations upon which we shall build up far more lofty and enduring monuments of genius and wisdom ; — they were only allowed to point out the career which is to be run by us, and to enjoy a faint antepast and distant prospect of that glorious perfection, with which the efforts and aspirations of the human mind are destined to be crowned in this new land of promise. "Even in this autumnal age of the world (we continue to quote our author's words) at the going down of the sun, a nation has arisen, European in language and descent, which has laid the foundations of literature broader and deeper than ever nation did before, — in the nature of man, in the character of universal society, in the principles of social order, in popular rights and popular government, in the welfare and edu cation of the people." Now we do not deny that all this is ex- 10 CLASSICAL LEARNING. ceedingly brilliant and encouraging, and that it is impossible to read such passages as these (and they are a fair specimen of the spirit in which the whole discourse is written) without conceiv ing the highest esteem for the character of the author, and even kindling, in some measure with a zeal, apparently so cordial, in the holiest of all causes, that, namely, of the moral and intellec tual improvement of mankind. But it is our very painful and prosaic duty to request Mr. Grimke, in his own language, "to curb this patriot feeling which hurries him on from flight to flight," and return for a few moments, to what in this serial ex cursion he has more than once lost sight of, — the true state of the question between himself and the venerable names of antiquity. We shall resume the subject as soon as we shall have paid our respects to Mr. Read and Mr. Adams. The former of these gentlemen, upon being inducted into the office which he now so honorably fills, of principal of the South- Carolina Academy, was requested by the committee of trustees or managers, to deliver a discourse explanatory of their views and anticipations, in making the changes that have been recently introduced into that important foundation. In performing this task, he very naturally adverted to the opinions of Mr. Grimke, which had been just before published, and in his examination of them, though very little time was allowed him for preparation, acquitted himself to the entire satisfaction of a most numerous and respectable auditory. The style of this address, although occasionally too florid and ambitious, is in general, however, very good. We were particularly pleased with those idiomatic turns of expression with which it abounds, and a certain air of collo quial ease and freedom so rare in our American writing, and so essential to all true grace and elegance in composition. But we were still more pleased with Mr. Read's style of thinking. This brief and hasty production shews him to be deeply imbued with an enlightened spirit of improvement, and to combine, in rather an uncommon degree, for so young a man, the refined taste of a scholar, with more enlarged and philosophical views, than have always directed the studies of philologists and grammarians. We have very little doubt about the success of the experiment, of which the results depend so much upon his zeal and ability; and we need scarcely add with what heartfelt satisfaction we anti cipate a complete revolution, or at least a visible and decided im provement, in our hitherto defective system of elementary educa tion. We would not be understood as denying all merit to the primary schools established in this city within a few years past, some of which, we are well aware, deserve the thanks of the community for the progress they have already made in the great work of reformation.* But much— very much remains yet to be * It is nothing butjustice to state that these improvements received their first impulse from the Rt. Rey. Bishop England, r CLASSICAL LEARNING. 11 done before the system will be good for any thing, and the es tablishment of a rival institution of such promise as the Academy of the South-Carolina Society, under the conduct of a gentleman so zealous and accomplished as Mr. Read, can scarcely fail to in spire a new ardor, and lead to more vigorous and persevering ** efforts than have hitherto been made to perfect those improve ments, and to secure the benefits of them to a future generation. And, here, we will take the liberty of addressing ourselves more particularly to a class of men who occupy amongst us a post, which is, in our opinion, beyond all comparison or contro versy, the most important of any in the whole circle of social avocations, especially in a country where the national character is, in a great measure, yet to be formed. It is vain to talk of having good schools until we get truly learned teachers, or of becoming a literary and refined people, until the education of youth shall be committed to accomplished and elegant, and we will add, enthusiastic scholars. From time to time, indeed, a few of our young men, by visiting foreign institutions at a very great expense, or by devoting themselves to these studies with a zealous and determined assiduity, scarcely to be expected at that early age, and by keeping out of the arena of professional or political ambition longer than is usual, or than may, perhaps, be quite expedient, will, probably, attain to a high degree of excellence in this kind. But such examples make no impres sion whatever upon the great mass of society, at least they pro duce no useful or meliorating effects. "They shed," to borrow a fine thought of Mr. Grimke's, "their unheeded beams on the moral desert around, and remind us of scattered stars, diffusing unnatural light amidst the gloom of an eclipse." Besides, the young scholar, after all his labor and vigils, may, perchance, find himself in any thing but an enviable situation, and learn by his own painful — happy, if not worse than painful! — experi ence, the wisdom of that profound sentence of Tacitus, ignotce (Parthis) virtutes, nova vitia* It is, indeed, the unfortunate results which occasionally take place in isolated instances of this kind, that have given most colour to the speculations of those innovators in literature and education amongst us, who are urg ing us to forsake the fountains of living waters, and to hew out for ourselves, after some rude and uncouth model in their great patent-office of untried projects and infallible quackery, broken cisterns that will hold no water. But where are we to find these erudite' and accomplished teachers? Are we to fold our arms in indolent and supine imbecility, until "the march of mind" shall bring about these changes in due season ; or shall we send a *The scholar will be reminded of poor Ovid's lamentation— Barbaras hie ego sum quia non intelligor ullis, fit rident stolidi verba latina Geta?. 12 CLASSICAL LEARNING. solemn embassy across the Atlantic, to tempt by offers of extra vagant emolument and honor, a small colony of adventurous scholars to come over and propagate literature m these parts 1 We answer, no such thing. We have the means of improve ment within ourselves. Let our young schoolmasters begin by teaching themselves profoundly, thoroughly— as it is undatflrt- ' edly in their power to do. There is no earthly reason, except a most inglorious, and to us unaccountable, apathy and sloth, why our primary schools should not become, in the course of a few years, certainly in less than a generation, quite equal, for all practical purposes, to any in the world. We know that there are those who will set this down for a paradox, and a very ex travagant one. There are some scholars, especially the English, and those bred at English schools, who lay infinite stress upon the advantage of having what is called a proper foundation laid in the regular discipline of the boy and the youth, without which, they conceive it to be quite impossible, even for the most shining parts, aided by the greatest assiduity and perseverance, to attain to anything like refined and perfect scholarship. All that is meant by this, we presume, is, that bearded men are not, in general, likely to acquire any great proficiency in capping and making nonsense verses, or to become so deeply versed in the endless varieties of the Trochaic, and Choriambic, and Antispas- tic, and Dactylic metres of the Greek tragedies, as Porson or Burney.* This may or may not be so for aught that concerns the present inquiry ; but if it is pretended that such refinements are essentials of a scholarship, profitable both for use and for or nament, (the scholarship, for instance, of Gibbon and Burke) we take leave to say, that we consider such notions as rank ped antry. We are far from denying that prosody ought to be cul tivated, and cultivated with all possible care and assiduity, for no species of illiteracy is at once so obtrusive and so disagree able as a vicious pronunciation ; we only maintain that that ex quisite degree of proficiency in it, which is not attainable by the enlightened studies and persevering industry of manhood, must be set down to the account of what — - Is vanity or dress, Or learning's luxury or idleness. So it is next to impossible for an Englishman or American, ?Perhaps nothing more is meant than the repetition of certain "old saws"— e e the following from Q.uinctilian, Q. i. c. 12) which are full of the good sense for which he is remarkable, though they seem to be pushed too far. Magis scias si quern jam robustum instituere Uteris coeperis, non sine causa dici, tou&oiuaSeK eos qui in sua. quidque arte optime faciant. Et patientior est laboris natura nueris quam juvenibus. ****** Abest illis (pueris) laboris judicium -XT P Sed ne temporis quidem unquam plus erit : quia his astatibus omnis'in audiendo profectus est. Cum ad stylum secedet, cum generabit ipse aliquid atque comnonel turn mchoare haec studia, vel non vacabit, vel non libebit — Ibid. CLASSICAL LEARNING. 13 after a certain age, to learn to speak French with a perfectly pure accent, yet will it be pretended that he may not be criti cally versed in its literature, and derive from his knowledge of it all the advantage which one can promise himself, as a mere scholar, from a foreign tongue? Nay, how few, even of those who write their own language with the greatest accuracy and elegance, have pushed their researches into the mere minutise and curiosities of its philology as far as many great critics have gone into those of the Latin and Greek. Admitting, however, as we readily do, that it is a great advan tage, inasmuch as it saves a world of pains at a period of life when time becomes more precious, to have been regularly bred under accomplished teachers ; still we repeat, that this advan tage is prodigiously overrated when it is considered as an indis pensable condition of excellence. As to the doctrine of those who think that there is something magical in the very name of Eton, or Westminster, who regard the learned languages as a sort of Mysteries into which an aspirant can be initiated no where else but in the sacred temple, and by none but hierophants of a privileged race, we need scarcely say, that no superstition was ever more extravagant. Latin and Greek are learned just as all other languages are, by long practice and critical observation in reading, writing and speaking them, and by these alone. We incline to the opinion, indeed, that a self-taught student would, in these days, be more sure of acquiring a profound and exact knowledge of them than of the modern tongues ; such are the facilities that are afforded by the best grammars, dictionaries, thesaurus', gradus', clavis', &c. Add to this, what is still more important than all, the excellent editions that have been pub lished of the classical authors, with references and annotations adapted to every variety of capacity and of proficiency in this branch of knowledge, and affording the most satisfactory expla nation of every difficulty that can possibly present itself to a scholar in the progress of his inquiries, so as very nearly to su persede the necessity of a viva voce instruction. Considering these things, it becomes, we confess, altogether inconceivable to us, how so many schools should have existed for the last half century, in the more populous parts of the United States, without, long ere this, filling the country with a race of accomplished scholars, not only sufficient to supply the places of the instruc tors and the ranks of the learned professions, but to diffuse an elegant taste, and the love of letters and of liberal pursuits throughout all classes of the community. Let any one who pos sesses a competent knowledge of the Latin grammar (and the same thing may be said of Greek, mutatis mutandis) and who has read the authors commonly taught at our academies, as imperfectly as they are commonly taught there, sit down with a 14 CLASSICAL LEARNING. determination to go through Livy's History, in one of the best editions, (Crevier's for instance) twice, faithfully and laboriously, referring to the notes for an explanation of whatever might be obscure in the text, and reserving for future investigation and comparison those passages which he is unable immediately to understand, and we undertake to say, that by the time he shall have accomplished his task, all the difficulties that embarrassed and discouraged his early progress will have insensibly vanished from before him. Let him then proceed to read in the same manner all the writings of Cicero, but especially the Epistles, the Rhetorical works, and the more familiar treatises on phi losophical subjects, devoting an hour every day to the drudgery of double translation, and he will find, when he comes to extend his studies to other authors — Tacitus, Sallust, the Plinies, &c. that those passages which are obscure to him will generally prove to have been the subject of dispute, even among veteran philologists. We are aware that this course requires great .reso lution and perseverance. No one, who has not experienced them himself, can have any adequate idea of the difficulties and dis couragements that crowd about the threshold of these unaided studies. But labor is the price of all excellence,* and it is fit that it should be so. It is by this discipline, and by this alone, that a thorough knowledge of any language, ancient or modern, or indeed of any thing else, can be acquired. Hac arte Pollux et vagus Hercules, &c. It was by such means that some of the most learned men of past times, Erasmus and Cujas for in stance, self-taught scholars — the former in an age comparatively barbarous, the latter without the smallest assistance from any teacher — raised themselves to such a height of reputation, not only in divinity or the civil law, or in profound erudition gene rally, but also in the humbler capacity of linguists and philolo- gers. It is vain to say that these are rare instances, and that it is unphilosophical to reason from exceptions. We deny the fact. The literary history of the last three centuries, and indeed of all ages, abounds with such examples, and even if it did not, no young man of a generous and aspiring mind ought to deem any thing impossible that has ever been accomplished bv mortal man, especially if it be what is obviously due, not to the supposed inspirations of genius, but to mere dint of toil and perseverance.! ^f&JV i,rriv ip, or of the force of that eloquent hor ror and astonishment with which Cicero exclaims against the crucifixion of a Roman citizen ?t In this connection, we would insist upon the stores of know ledge which are sealed up to all who are not conversant with the learned languages. This is a trite topic, but not the less impor tant on that account. By far the most serious and engrossing concern of man — revealed religion — is built upon this foundation. The meaning of the Scriptures, which it is so important to un derstand, can be explained only by scholars, and the controver sies of the present day, turn almost exclusively upon points of biblical criticism, &c. How can a divine, whose circumstances allow him any leisure, sit down in ignorance of such things? — How can he consent to take the awful information which he im parts to the multitudes committed to his care, at second hand? Surely here, if any where, it may emphatically be said tardi in- genii est consectari rivulos, fontes rerum non videre. Indeed, * Pope's imitations of Horace are better translations than his Iliad. They are just what Horace would have done' in English. t On this subject we refer once more to the admirable remarks of Bishop Low'h's Lectures on Hebrew Poetry. — Lect. 8. 40 CLASSICAL LEARNING. this single consideration is weighty enough to maintain the learned languages in their places, in all the universities of Christendom. But, it is not to theologians only that this branch of study is of great importance. How is the jurist to have access to the corpus juris civilis, of which Mr.. Grimke expresses so exalted an opinion? — .(page 26.) We agree with him in this opinion,* and while we deem with a mysterious reverence of our old and excellent common law — uncodified as it is — still we would have our lawyers to be deeply versed in the juridical wisdom of anti quity. Why? For the very same reason that we think it de sirable that a literary man should be master of various languages, viz : to make him distinguish what is essentially, universally and eternally good and true, from what is the Tesult of accident, of local circumstances, or the fleeting opinions of a day. That most invaluable of intellectual qualities — which ought to be the object of all discipline, as it is the perfection of all reason — a sound judgment, can be acquired only by such diversified and comprehensive comparisons. All other systems rear up bigots and pedants, instead of liberal and enlightened philosophers. Besides, every school has its mannerism and its mania, for which there is no cure but intercourse with those who are free from them, and constant access to the models of perfect and im mutable excellence, which other ages have produced, and all ages have acknowledged. To point the previous observations, which are of very general application, more particularly to a topic touched upon before; even admiting that modern litera ture were as widely different from the ancient as the ememies of the latter contend, yet that would be no reason for neglecting the study of the Classics, but just the contrary. Human nature being the same in all ages, we may be sure that men agree in more points than they disagree in, and the best corrective of the extravagancies into which their peculiarities betray them, is to contrast' them with the opposite peculiarities of others. If the tendency, therefore, of the modern or romantic style is to mys ticism, irregularity and exaggeration — and that of the classical, to an excess of precision and severity, he would be least liable * Mr. Grimke' subjoins to the remarks, referred to, an extraordinary one, and says, he rejoices in being able to make it, viz : that the excellence of the civil law was owing to Justinian's being a christian. We are sorry to say, this opinion has to encounter the following' difficulties, — 1st. That the Golden Age of that Jurisprudence was three centuries before Justinian's reign ; the age of Pa- pinian, Paullus, Ulpian, ifcc. 2d. That Ulpian, so far from being a christian, was a most bigoted Pagan, and did all he could to poison the mind of Alexander Severus, with the maxims and the spirit of persecution. — Gravin. Origin. I. C. I. i. p- 125. 3d. Julius Caesar had it in contemplation to "codify" the Roman law.— Suelon: in Divo Julio, c. 44. [4. The compiling of the Perpetual Edict. 5. The Gregorian and Hermogenian Codes, compiled under Constantine by two Pagans, to preserve the old Pagan Jurisprudence. Giannone, 1. II.] CLASSICAL LEARNING. 41 to fall into the excesses of either, who was equally versed in the excellencies of both. Certainly a critic who has studied both Shakspeare and Sophocles, must have a juster notion of the true excellence of dramatic composition, than he who has only studied one of them. Where they agreed he would be sure they were both right; where they happened, as they frequently do, to differ, he would, at once, be led to reflect much, before he award ed the preference to either, and to have a care lest, in indulg ing that preference, he should overstep the bounds of propriety and "the modesty of nature." It is thus, we repeat it, and only thus, that sound critics, sound philosophers, sound legislators, and lawyers worthy of their noble profession, can be formed. There are other kinds of knowledge, besides what is interest ing to divines and jurists, locked up in the learned languages. Whole branches of history and miscellaneous literature — of themselves extensive enough to occupy the study of a life. Look into Du Cange, Muratori, Fabricius, &c. In short, we pronounce, without fear of contradiction, that no man can make any pre tentions to erudition, who is not versed in Greek and Latin.* He must be forever at a loss, and unable to help himself to what he wants in many departments of knowledge, even supposing him to have the curiosity to cultivate them, which is hardly to be ex pected of one who will not be at the pains of acquiring the pro per means to do so with success. For we have always thought and still think — Mr. Grimke's speculative opinions being out weighed by his own practice — that those, who refuse to study a branch of learning so fundamental and so universally held in veneration as the Classics, have forgotten "the know thy self," when they prattle about profound erudition. In addition to all this, we venture to affirm that the shortest way to the know ledge of the history, antiquities, philosophy, &c, of all those ages, whose opinions and doings have been recorded in Greek and Latin, even supposing English writers to have gone over the same ground, is through the originals.t Compare the know ledge which a scholar acquires, not only of the policy and the res gesta. of the Roman emperors, but of the minutest shades and inmost recesses of their character, and that of the times in which they reigned, from the living pictures of Tacitus and Suetonius, with the cold, general, feeble, and what is worse, far from just and precise idea of the same thing, communicated by modern authors. The difference is incalculable. It is that be tween the true Homeric Achilles, and the Monsieur or Monseig- [* Docti a Graecis petere malent, indocti ne a nobis quidem accipient. 2. Acad. Lib. 1. c. 2.] [t Sin a Grsecorum artibus et disciplinis abhorrerent, ne haec quidem curaturos quae sine eruditione Graeca intelligi non possunt — says Varko, in Cic. 2. Acad. Lib. 1. c. 2.] 42 CLASSICAL LEARNING. neur Achille of the Theatre Francais, at the beginning of the last century, with his bob wig and small sword. When we read of those times in English, we attach modern meanings to ancient words, and associate the ideas of our own age and country, with objects altogether foreign from them. In this point of view as in every other, the cause of the Classics is that of all sound" learning. We mention as another important consideration, that the knowledge of these languages brings us acquainted, familiarly, minutely and impressively, with a state of society altogether un like any thing that we see in modern times. When we read a foreign author of our own day, we occasionally, indeed, remark differences in taste, in character and customs ; but in general, we find ourselves en pays de connaissance. Modern civilization, of which one most important element is a common religion, is pretty uniform. But the moment we open a Greek book, we are struck with the change. We are in quite a new world, combin ing all that is wonderful in fiction, with all that is instructive in truth. Manners and customs, education, religion, national cha racter, every thing is original and peculiar. Consider the priest and the temple, the altar and the sacrifice, the chorus and the festal pomp, the gymnastic exercises, and those Olympic games, whither universal Greece repaired with all her wealth, her strength, her genius and taste* — where the greatest cities and kings, and the other first men of their day, partook with an en thusiastic rivalry, scarcely conceivable to us, in the interest of the occasion, whether it was a race, a boxing match, a contest of musicians, or an oration, or a noble history to be read to the mingled throng — and where the horse and the rider, the chariot and the charioteer, were consecrated by the honors of the crown and the renown of the triumphal ode. Look into the theatres where "the lofty grave tragedians" contend, in their turn, for the favor of the same cultivated people, and where Aristophanes, in verses, which, by the confesssion of all critics, were never surpassed in energy and spirit, in Attic purity and the most ex quisite modulations of harmony, is holding up Socrates — the wisest of mankind — to the contempt and ridicule of the mob, if that Athenian Demus, that could only be successfully courted with such verses, does not disdain the appellation. Next go to the schools, or rather "the shady spaces" of philosophy — single one object out of the interesting groupe — let it be the most promi nent — he, in short, who for the same reason was made to play so conspicuous a part in the "Clouds." Consider the habits of this hero of Greek philosophy, according to Xenophon's accountt of them ; now unlike any thing we have heard among the mo- * Isocrates, llfpi Zsuyouf. t Memorab. 1. A. 10. CLASSICAL LEARNING 43 derns ; passing his whole life abroad and in public — early in the morning visited the gymnasia and the most frequented walks, and about the time that the market-place was gett.ing full, resort ing thither, and all the rest of the day presenting himself where soever the greatest concourse of people was to be found, offering to answer any question in philosophy which might be propound ed to him by the inquisitive. Above all, contemplate the fierce democracy in the popular assembly, listening to the harangues of orators, at once, with the jealousy of a tyrant and the fastidi ousness of the most sensitive critics, and sometimes with the levity, the simplicity, and the wayward passions of childhood. Read their orations — above all, his, whose incredible pains to prepare himself for the perilous post of a demagogue, and whose triumphant success in it, every body has heard of — how dramatic, how mighty, how sublime ! Think of the face of the country it self, its monumental art, its cities adorned with whatever is most perfect and most magnificent in architecture — its public places peopled with the forms of ideal beauty — the pure air, the warm and cloudless sky, the whole earth covered with the trophies of genius, and the very atmosphere seeming to shed over all the selectest influences, and to breathe, if we may hazard the expres sion, of that native Ionian elegance which was in every object it enveloped. It is impossible to contemplate the annals of Greek literature and art, without being struck with them, as by far the most ex traordinary and brilliant phenomenon in the history of the hu man mind. The very language — even in its primitive sim plicity, as it came down from the rhapsodists who celebrated the exploits of Hercules and Theseus, was as great a wonder as any it records. All the other tongues that civilized man have spoken, are poor and feeble, and barbarous, in comparison of it. Its compass and flexibility, its riches and its powers, are alto gether unlimited. It not only expresses with precision, all that is thought or known at any given period, but it enlarges itself naturally, with the progress of science, and affords, as if without an effort, a new phrase, or a systematic nomenclature whenever one is called for. It is equally adapted to every variety of style and subject — to the most shadowy subtlety of distinction, and the utmost exactness of definition, as well as to the energy and the pathos of popular eloquence — to the majesty, the elevation, the variety of the epic, and the boldest license of the dithyram- bic, no less than to the sweetness of the elegy, the simplicity of the pastoral, or the heedless gaiety and delicate characterization of comedy. Above all, what is an unspeakable charm — a sort of naivete is peculiar to it, which appears in all those various styles, and is quite as becoming and agreeable in a historian or a philosopher — Xenophon for instance — as in the light and 44 CLASSICAL LEARNING. jocund numbers of Anacreon. Indeed, were there no other object in learning Greek but to see to what perfection language is capable of being carried, not only as a medium of communi cation, but as an instrument of thought, we see not why the time of a young man would not be just as well bestowed in acquiring a knowledge of it — for all the purposes, at least, of a liberal or elementary education — as in learning algebra, ano ther specimen of a language or arrangement of signs perfect in its kind. But this wonderful idiom happens to have been spoken, as was hinted in the preceding paragraph, by a race as wonder ful. The very first monument of their genius — the most ancient relic of letters in the Western world — stands to this day altogeth er unrivalled in the exalted class to which it belongs.* What was the history of this immortal poem and of its great fellow ? Was it a single individual, and who was he, that composed them? Had he any master or model? What had been his education, and what was the state of society in which he lived ? These questions are full of interest to a philosophical inquirer into the intellectual history of the species, but they are especially important with a view to the subject of the present discussion. Whatever causes account for the matchless excellence of these primitive poems, and for that of the language in which they are written, will go far to explain the extraordinary circumstance, that the same favoured people left nothing unattempted in phi losophy, in letters and in arts, and attempted nothing without signal, and in some cases, unrivalled success. Winkelmant un dertakes to assign some reasons for this astonishing superiority of the Greeks, and talks very learnedly about a fine climate, de licate organs, exquisite susceptibility, the full developement of the human form by gymnastic exercises, &c. For our own part, we are content to explain the phenomenon after the manner of the Scottish school of metaphysicians, in which we learned the little that we profess to know of that department of philosophy, ?Milton is, perhaps, more sublime than Homer, and, indeed, than all other poets, with the exception, as we incline to think, of Dante. But if we adopt his own di vision of poetry into three great classes, viz. the epic, the dramatic, and the lyri cal—the Paradise Lost, like the Divina Commedia, is more remarkable for Ly rical, (and sometimes for dramatic) than for epic beauties— for splendid details, than an interesting whole— for prophetic rapturesbursting forth at intervals, than tor the animation, the fire, the engrossing and £fcpid narrative of a metrical Ro mance. Who cares anything about the story dj the plot, or feels any sympathy with the dramatis persona?— not even excepting. Adam and Eve, whose insipid faultlessness reminds one of the Italian proverb— tanto buon che val niente Be sides, are not the preposterous vauntings and menaces of the devil against the Omnipotent, like the swaggering insolence of a slave behind his masters back- or his conspiracy like that of Caliban, with Trineulo and Stephano, against the magic powers of Prospero ? Devoted, as we are proud to avow ourselves, to Milton we have always felt there was something even savouring of the comic in Ins Rabbinical plot. ° t Historie de l'Art, &c— LivA. CLASSICAL LEARNING. 45 by resolving it at once in an original law of nature : in other words, by substantially, but decently, confessing it to be inexpli cable. But whether it was idiosyncrasy or discipline, or what ever was the cause, it is enough for the purposes of the present discussion, that the fact is unquestionable. In one of Mr. Grimke's notes, (p. 77) we have the following remarks upon the story of Demosthenes' having repeatedly copied the great work of Thucydides with his own hand. "Were instructors in our day to recommend an imitation of this exam ple of the Athenian orator, it would be considered as dovmright folly. If the student of Divinity were'-told to copy Butler's Analogy, the student of Law, Blackstone's Commentaries, the student of Belles Lettres, Karnes or Alison, and the student of Philosophy, Paley or Locke, it would be pro nounced an unpardonable waste of time, and a very unintelligible mode of improvement." Undoubtedly it would, and by no man sooner than Demos thenes himself, if he had the good fortune to live again "in our day." But what earthly analogy is there between the two cases ? In that of the Greek orator, we see a young man pre paring himself for the very hazardous career of a public speaker, in such an assembly as we have already described — the shrewd, sagacious, cavilling, hypercritical, but most polished and musi cal Athenian Demus — by endeavouring to acquire a perfect com mand of his language — the great instrument by which he was to accomplish every thing. In order to effect this, he not only attended the schools of Isseus and Plato, but he did what was still better ; he selected the model which he thought most per fect, and traced its lineaments over and over again, until he ac quired, or rather surpassed, if possible, the excellencies of his great master. Besides, Mr. Grimke does not seem to be aware that the Greek language, admirable as it was in itself — vast and various as its powers had appeared in the older poets — and much as had been done for its prose by Plato, Isocrates, and others, had not yet attained to its utmost perfection — at least, for the purposes of popular declamation ; and that it was actu ally reserved for Demosthenes, by these very studies which " would, it seems, be looked upon as "downright folly" in our day, to give it its last finishing — to impart to it, the full resounding line, The long majestic march and energy divine:* but whoever heard Butler's Analogy or Kames' Elements com mended for style, and who could "not master their sense and argument without copying them at all ? * So says Philostratus. /8iog Itfoxpowoug. In Cicero's time, the Pseudo or soi- disant Attics, who pestered him with their affectations and impertinences held up Thucydides as the most perfect model of Attic purity and elegance. The orator himself, however, declares for Demosthenes— duo ne Athenas quidem ipsas magis credo fuisse Atticas.— Oral, ad Brul. c. 7. 46 CLASSICAL LEARNING. But our main purpose in quoting these remarks of Mr. Grimke, was to advert to the conclusion he draws from them, which we shall endeavour to turn against his own argument. It is as follows : "Does not this act of Demosthenes very remarkably illustrate the fundamental difference between the ancients and moderns^ that the for mer regarded style as an end; the latter as a means: that the former excel chiefly in style, the latter pre-eminently in thought." We will treat this sentence (which we print just as it stood in the original) as Jupiter, among the poets, so often treats the prayers of unhappy mortals — half of it shall be granted, the other half dispersed in air. We think it undoubtedly true, as a general proposition, that the ancients, especially the Greeks, were more fastidious in regard to style than the moderns, and this is the very reason why they have been, and ought to be, universally preferred as models to form the taste of youth upon. But it is as undoubtedly wrong to affirm, that they were less scrupulous about sense or thought. Of their extreme delicacy and correctness of taste, innumerable proofs might be cited from all the writings of antiquity, but especially from that rich mine of philosophical criticism, both theoretical and practical, the rhetorical writings of Cicero. His manner of expressing himself upon this subject is quite remarkable. He speaks of the niceness and scrupulosity of the Attic ear* — which was so great that a single false quantity or misplaced accent would excite the clamours of a whole theatre,t besides many other instances which our limits forbid us to adduce. An example of the same thing that has always struck us very forcibly, is to be fouud in the gibes which iEschines, even upon an occasion of such extra ordinary interest and importance as the famous accusation of Ctesiphon, so confidently indulges in, with regard to certain ex pressions that had escaped his great rival in former debates ; as if, said Demosthenes, it concerned the well-being of the com monwealth, whether I used this word or that or stretched forth my arm thus or thus. Yet we are willing that the whole cause of Greek literature should depend upon that single controversy, and upon the opinion of any liberal and enlightened critic, as to the merits of those Very orations so laboriously prepared, and so unsparingly censured. Indeed, (as has already been remarked with respect to the comedies of Aristophanes) what better proof can be given of the wonderful refinement of an Athenian audi ence than that this peerless orator felt it necessary to take so much pains in preparing his harangues, and met with such tri- * Teretes et religiosas aures Atticorum.— (We quote this and the folio wing from memory.) Brutus c. 9. ° t At in his (numeris et modis,) &c. tota theatra reclamant -.—Brutus. Something like this may be seen in the parterre of the Theatre Francais : but Paris is not Athens. * ' CLASSICAL LEARNING. 47 umphant success in delivering them ? It is impossible to imagine a work of genius, executed in a more simple and severe taste ; and Hume does not, we think, exaggerate their merit when he affirms, that of all human productions, the orations of Demos thenes present us with the models which approach nearest to perfection.* But wherein, principally, did that wonderful ex cellence consist? In this — that his style, elaborate and admi rable as it was, seemed to make no part of his concern, and that he was wrapped up with his whole heart and soul, in the subjects — in the occasion — in the measure proposed — in the glory of Athens, and the welfare and liberties of all Greece. So it is with the other Greek classics. This naked simplicity of style, united with the highest degree of refinement, is what strikes a modern reader most, especially before he is become familiar with it. Yet this peculiar people, who would tolerate no expressions but the most chaste and naturalt — who would have spurned from the /3-/)|j,a a public speaker that did not know how to sink the rheto rician in the statesman and the man of business]:— to whom any thing like the ambitious ornaments so much admired in this phi losophic age, would have been an abomination? — this people it is, that are represented as considering style as an end, instead of a means, and as sacrificing sense to sound ! The conclusion which we draw from Mr. Grimke's premises is, as we have already intimated, that this proposed defect of the classical authors, would be alone sufficient to keep them where they are in our schools. We shall now add the last considera tion which our limits will permit us to suggest, on this part of the subject. In discussing the very important question whether boys ought to be made to study the Classics, as a regular part of education — the innovators put the case in the strongest possible manner against the present system, by arguing as if the young pupil, un der this discipline, was to learn nothing else but language itself. We admit that this notion has received some sort of counte nance from the excessive attention paid in the English schools to prosody, and the fact that their great scholars have been, per haps, (with many exceptions to be sure) more distinguished by the refinement of their scholarship, than the extent and pro foundness of their erudition. But the grand advantage of a classical education consists far less in acquiring a language or two, which, as languages, are to serve for use or for ornament in * Essay xiii. of Eloquence. t See Longinus, c. 3. J Isocrates navafSijvaixog in exordio. § Cicero characterizes the Asiatic style — as opimum quoddam et tanquam adi- pat33 dictionis genus, (Brutus, c. 8,) — (a felicitous and untranslalcable phrase) which the Rhodians did not relish much, and the Attics could not tolerate at all. We fear the style so much in vogue nowadays — in Scotland especially — is in this category, 48 CLASSICAL LEARNING. future life, than in the things that are learned in making that acquisition, and yet more in the manner of learning those things. It is a wild conceit to suppose, that the branches of knowledge, which are most rich and extensive, and most deserve to engage the researches of a mature mind, are, therefore, the best for training a young one. Metaphysics, for instance, as we have al ready intimated, though in the last degree unprofitable as a sci ence, is a suitable and excellent, perhaps, a necessary part of the intellectual discipline of youth. On the contrary, international law is extremely important to be known by publicists and states men, but it would be absurd to put Vattel (as we have ourselves seen it done, in a once celebrated academy, in a certain part of the United States,) into the hands of a lad of fifteen or sixteen. We will admit, therefore, what has been roundly asserted at hazard, and without rhyme or reason, that classical scholars dis continue these studies after they are grown wise enough to know their futility, and only read as much Greek and Latin as is ne cessary to keep up their knowledge of them, or rather to save appearances, and gull credulous people ; yet we maintain that the concession does not affect the result of this controversy in the least. We regard the whole period of childhood and of youth — up to the age of sixteen or seventeen, and perhaps long er — as one allotted by nature to growth and improvement in the strictest sense of those words.* The flexible powers are to be trained rather than tasked — to be carefully and continually prac tised in the preparatory exercises, but not to be loaded with bur thens that may crush them, or be broken down by overstrained efforts of the race. It is in youth, that Montaigne's maxim, al ways excellent — is especially applicable — that the important question is, not who is most learned, but who has learned the best. Now, we confess we have no faith at all in young pro digies — in your philosophers in teens. We have generally found these precocious smatterers sink in a few years into barrenness and imbecility, and that as they begin by being men when they ought to be boys, so they end in being boys when they ought to be men. If we would have good fruit we must wait until it is in season. Nature herself has pointed out, too clearly to be misunderstood, the proper studies of childhood and youth. The senses are first developed — observation and memory follow — then imagination begins to dream and to create — afterwards ratioci nation, or the dialectical propensity and faculty, shoots up with great ranknesst — and last of all, the crowning perfection of in tellect, sound judgment and solid reason, which, by much ex perience in life, at length ripen into wisdom.* The vicissitudes [* See Plato, Rep. 1. vi. 498.] f+ Plat0) Rep. j 7 53 9 b i [l duid est autem non dicam in homine sed in omni ccelo atque terra, ratione diviniusl (Gtuae.quum adolevit, atque perfecta est, nominatur rite sapientia. Cic. de Leg. Lib. 1. c. 7.J r CLASSICAL LEARNING. 49 of the seasons, and the consequent changes in the face of nature, and the cares and occupations of the husbandman, are not more clearly distinguished or more unalterably ordained. To break in upon this harmonious order — to attempt to anticipate these pre-established periods, what is it, as Cicero had it, but, after the manner of the Giants, to war against the laws of the Uni verse, and the wisdom that created it ? And why do so ? Is not the space in human life, between the eighth and twentieth year, quite large enough for acquiring every branch of liberal knowledge, as well as is needed, or, indeed, can be acquired in youth ? For instance, we cite the opinion of Condorcet, re peatedly quoted, with approbation, by Dugald Stewart, and if we mistake not, by Professor Playfair too, (each of them the highest authority on such a subject.) that any one may, under competent teachers, acquire all that Newton or La Place knew, in two years. The same observation, of course, applies a forti ori to any other branch of science. As for the modern langua ges, the study of French ought to be begun early for the sake of the pronunciation, and continued through the whole course, as it may be, without the smallest inconvenience. Of German, we say nothing, because we cannot speak of our own knowledge ; but for Italian and Spanish, however difficult they may be, espe cially their poetry — to a mere English scholar, they are so easy of acquisition to any one who understands Latin, that it is not worth while even to notice them in our scheme. All that we ask then, is, that a boy should be thoroughly taught the ancient langua ges from his eighth to his sixteenth year, or thereabouts, in which time he will have his taste formed, his love of letters completely, perhaps enthusiastically awakened, his knowledge of the prin ciples of universal grammar perfected, his memory stored with the history, the geography, and the chronology of all antiquity, and with a vast fund of miscellaneous literature besides, and his imagination kindled with the most beautiful and glowing pas sages of Greek and Roman poetry and eloquence: all the rules of criticism familiar to him— -the sayings of sages, and the achievements of heroes, indelibly impressed upon his heart. He will have his curiosity fired for further acquisition, and find himself in possession of the golden keys, which open all the re cesses where the stores of knowledge have ever been laid up by civilized man. The consciousness of strength will give him confi dence, and he will go to the rich treasures themselves and take what he wants, inslead of picking up eleemosynary scraps from those whom, in spite of himself, he will regard as his betters in literature. He will be let into that great communion of scholars throughout all ages and all nations — like that more awful com munion of saints in the Holy Church Universal — and feel a sym pathy with departed genius, and with the enlightened and the 50 CLASSICAL LEARNING. gifted minds of other countries, as they appear before him, in the transports of a sort of Vision Beatific, bowing down at the same shrines and glowing with the same holy love of whatever is most pure and fair, and exalted and divine in human nature. Above all, our American youth will learn, that liberty — which is sweet to all men, but which is the passion of proud minds that cannot stoop to less — has been the nurse of all that is sublime in character and genius. They will see her form and feel her in fluence in every thing that antiquity has left for our admira tion — that bards consecrated their harps to her* — that she spoke from the lips of the mighty orators — that she fought and con quered, acted and suffered with the heroes whom she had form ed and inspired ; and, after ages of glory and virtue, fell with Him — her all-accomplished hope — Him, the last of Romans — the self-immolated martyr of Philippi.t Our young student will find his devotion to his country — his free country — become at once more fervid and more enlightened, and think scorn of the wretched creatures who have scoffed at the sublime simplicity of her institutions, and "esteem it," as one expresses it, who learn ed to be a republican in the schools of antiquity,! much better to imitate the old and elegant humanity of Greece, than the bar baric pride of a Norwegian or Hunnish stateliness ; and, let us add, will come much more to despise that slavish and nauseat ing subserviency to rank and title, with which all European lite rature is steeped through and through. If Americans are to study any foreign literature at all, it ought, undoubtedly, to be the Classical, and especially the Greek. The very difficulties of these studies, which make it necessary that so many years should be devoted to them — the novelty, the strangeness of the form, are a great recommendation. This topic is a most important one, and we would gladly follow it out; but we have already far exceeded our limits. We will just observe, that the reason, which Quinctilian gives for beginning with the Greek, is of universal application. The mother-tongue is acquired as of course — in the nursery — at the fire-side— at the parental board — in society — every where. It is familiar to us long before we are capable of remarking its peculiarities. This familiarity has its usual effects of diminishing curiosity and in terest, and of making us regard, without emotion and even with out attention, what, if it came recommended by novelty, would leave the deepest impression. It is so with every thing in na ture and in art. "Difficulties increase passions of every kind, * See Lowth's first Lecture before referred to. tWho can read Appian's account of this ever memorable battle without shed ding tears'? [Brutus quidem noster, excellens omnigenere laudis,&c. Cic.2. Acad. Post. 1. 3. Cf. Plutarch in Brut.] ; Milton — Areopagitica. CLASSICAL LEARNING. 51 and by rousing our attention and exciting our active powers, they produce an emotion, which nourishes the prevailing affec tion."* Before his eighth year, a boy should be perfectly well grounded in the rudiments of English — and then if his master be a scholar that deserves the name, he could learn his own lan guage better by having occasion to use it in translations, both prose and metrical, of the ancient languages, than by all the les sons and lectures of a mere English treacher from his birth to his majority. Indeed, it would be difficult, in the present state of our literature to imagine any thing more insipid, spiritless, imperfect, and unprofitable than such a course. But we must break off here. We were going to appeal to experience, but we know the an swer that will be made. It is not sufficient : but this too must be deferred. In the mean time, we earnestly exhort our readers to consider the state of the question as we have put it. Not to have the curiosity to study the learned languages is not to have any vocation at all for literature : it is to be destitute of liberal curiosity and of enthusiasm ; to mistake a self-sufficient and su perficial dogmatism for philosophy, and that complacent indo lence which is the bane of all improvement for a proof of the highest degree of it. As somebody quoted by Home Tooke says, qui alios a literarum et linguarum studio absterrent, non an tique sapiential, sed nova stultitia. doctores sunt habendi. Mr. Grimke's speculative opinions we think utterly erroneous — his excellent example cannot be too closely imitated — but it is un fortunately easy for all to repeat the one, while few have the in dustry and perseverance to follow the other. * Hume's Essay XXII. of Tragedy. ROMAN LITERATURE. History of Roman Literature, from its earliest period to the Augustan Age. By John Dunlop, Author of the History of Fiction. 2 vols; From the last London Edition. E. LMett. Philadelphia. 1827. Mr. Dunlop is already known to many of our readers by his interesting and popular History of Fiction. By the accomplish ment of the present undertaking he will have greatly added to the obligations which he has already imposed upon the public. He is supplying a very important desideratum in English litera ture. The execution of the work thus far, is, upon the whole, worthy of the design, and few books can be mentioned in which so much useful knowledge is conveyed in so agreeable a style. There is, however, very little novelty either in the views of our author, or in the learning with which he illustrates and enforces them. The numerous subjects that fall within his comprehen sive plan, have been long ago 'bolted to the bran' by many eru dite men j- and nothing remained for the historian but to collect and arrange the abundant materials that had been prepared for him, and to embellish them with the graces of an elegant and attractive style. If we may be allowed moreover to speak our minds with perfect freedom, we will confess that there is something wanting, after all, in Mr. Dunlop's manner of treating his subject. He does not appear to us to write altogether con amore. At least, there is not that hearty zeal, that captivating \ and contagious enthusiasm which breathes through the pages of - Schlegel and Sismondi, and imparts to them so lively an interest, -and such a warm and delightful coloring. In a word, the history of Roman literature, however great an acquisition to the gene ral reader, partakes too much of the character of mere compila tion, and though, as compilation, unif6Tmly~smis^iStory7exact and elegant, is occasionally, withal, rather cold and spiritless. Perhaps, however, we are imputing to the workman what ought to be considered as, in some degree at least, the defects of his materials. Roman literature, especially the earlier Roman literature, which occupies so large a space in the work before us, is far less calculated to inspire enthusiasm, than that of the Greeks, or even that of the South of Europe, especially about the period of the revival of letters. The reason may be given in a single word — it is altogether exotic and imitative. Greek ROMAN LITERATURE. 53 literature, on the contrary, was perfectly original. That wonder ful people was, in this respect, at least a primitive race— a nation of avrox^ovsg* There is no trace in their poetry and eloquence of any foreign influence or heterogeneous admixture. With them every thing was barbarous that was not Greek. Their genius drew its inspiration from the living fountains of nature — from the scenes in which it actually moved — from events which im mediately affected its own destinies — from opinions that had laid a strong hold on the popular belief — from the exaggerated traditions of an heroic ancestry — from every thing, in short, that is most fitted to excite the imagination, and to come home to the heart, and all its deep and devoted affections. The theme of their matchless Epic was the war which first united them in a great national object, and proved that they were formed to con quer and to subjugate barbarians.t The calamities of the Lab- dacidas and the Pelopidse furnished the scenes of their "gor geous tragedy." The animated interest of their Olympic con tests inspired the muse of Pindar, and the valor of Harmodius and Aristogiton was celebrated in many a festal hymn, and by many a tuneful lyre. Their elegant and poetical mythology peopled all nature with animated and beautiful forms, and con secrated, ennobled, and adorned the most ordinary objects. A local habitation, a temple, a grove, a grotto — was assigned, amidst the scenes of daily toil and the resorts of busy life, to every divinity in their endless calendar. Their Parnassus was no un meaning common place — no empty name as it is in our modern poetry. It was "haunted, holy ground" — breathing inspiration from its caves, and covered all over with religious awe. J Attica, says Strabo, was a creation and a monument of God and godlike ancestors. Not a part of it but is signalized and celebrated by history or fiction. § Is it any wonder that objects like these, that scenes so full of religion and poetry should have awakened all the enthusiasm of genius, which, in its turn, was to reflect back on them its own glory, and to hallow them with associations still more awful and affecting ? The iEdipus Coloneus and the Eumenides, both of them written professedly to honor Athens and the Athenians, are memorable examples of a poetry, which seems to have been inspired by the event and the place, and to have made both more interesting and impressive. There is reality in all this. The literature of such a people [* »j f/.sv Attixyi (/.ourfa xai dgyaia xal oiutojcSwv, — Dion. Hal. tlgi TfiN APX. PHT. |*irofAv. proemium.] f Isocrates, 'EXevfc syxu^iov. I 'Isgoifgsitiis 8' k> tf«S ° TLugvadtiog 'iyyiv avrga. te xai aXXa Xu£'a' rifi.tjijj.sva, rs xou ayi