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Where forms of spheres "being given" on a plane,
He must transform and bend within his brain.
Or as an author, lost in gloom profound,

When some bright thought demands a period round.
Pondering and polishing; ah, what avail

The room oft paced, the anguish-bitten nail?
For see, produced 'mid many a laboring groan,
A sentence much like an inverted cone.
Or should he try his talent at a rhyme,
That waste of patience and that waste of time,
Perchance, like me, he flounders out one line,
Begins the next, - there stops

Enough, no more unveil the cloister's grief,
Disclose those sources whence it finds relief.
Say how the Student, pausing from his toil,
Forgets his pain 'mid recreation's smile.
Have you not seen,- forgive the ignoble theme,
The winged tenants of some haunted stream
Feed eager, busy, by its pebbly side,
Then wanton in the cool, luxuriant tide ?
So the wise student ends his busy day,
Unbends his mind, and throws his cares away.
To books where science reigns, and toil severe,
Succeeds the alluring tale, or drama dear;
Or haply in that hour his taste might choose
The easy warblings of the modern muse.
Let me but paint himt void of every care,
Flung in free attitude across his chair.
From page to page his rapid eye along
Glances and revels through the magic song;
Alternate swells his breast with hope and fear,

Now bursts the unconscious laugh, now falls the pitying tear

Yet more; though lonely joys the bosom warm,

Participation heightens every charm;

And should the happy student chance to know
The warmth of friendship, or some kindlier glow,
What wonder should he swiftly run to share
Some favorite author with some favorite fair!
There, as he cites those treasures of the page
That raise her fancy, or her heart engage,
And listens while her frequent, keen remark
Discerns the brilliant, or illumes the dark,

And doubting much, scarce knows which most to admire,
The critic's judgment, or the writer's fire,
And reading often glances at that face,
Where gently beam intelligence and grace;
And sees each passion in its turn prevail,
Her looks the very echo of the tale;
Sces the descending tear, the swelling breast,
When vice exults, or virtue is distressed;
Or, when the plot assumes an aspect new,
And virtue shares her retribution due,
He sees the grateful smile, th' uplifted eye,

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Thread, needle, kerchief, dropt in ecstasy,-
Say, can one social pleasure equal this?

Yet still even here imperfect is the bliss.
For ah! how oft must awkward learning yield
To graceful dulness the unequal field
Of gallantry? What lady can endure
The shrug scholastic, or the bow demure?
Can the poor student hope that heart to gain,
Which melts before the flutter of a cane?
Or, of two characters, which shall surpass,
Where one consults his books, and one his glass?
Ye fair, if aught these censures may apply,
'Tis yours to effect the surest remedy;
Ne'er should a fop the sacred bond remove
Between the Aonian and the Paphian grove.
Tis yours to strengthen, polish, and secure
The lustre of the mind's rich garniture;
This is the robe that lends you heavenly charms,
And envy of its keenest sting disarms,

A robe whose grace and richness will outvie
The woof of Ormus, or the Tyrian dye,

To count one pleasure more, indulge my muse,-
'Tis friendship's self,-what cynic will refuse?
O, I could tell how oft her joys we've shared,
When mutual cares those mutual joys endeared,
How arm in arm we 've lingered through the vale,
Listening to many a time-beguiling tale,
How oft, relaxing from one common toil,
We've found repose amid one common smile.
Yes, I could tell, but O, the task how vain!
'T would but increase our fast approaching pain;
The pain so thrilling to a student's heart,
Couched in that talisman of woe, we part.

XCI.

DISSERTATION.

A dissertation is a formal discourse intended to illustrate a subject, and the term is properly applied to performances of an argumentative nature.

Dissertations are principally employed on disputed points of literature and science.*

* See Bentley's "Dissertation upon the Epistles of Phalaris," and De Pau's "Dissertations on the Egyptians and Chinese."

Example.

On the Causes which, independent of their Merit, have contributed to ele vate the ancient Classics."

The ancient classics are elevated to a rank in the literature of the world, to which their intrinsic excellence cannot justify their claim. Admitting this position, which their most strenuous supporters will not deny, but unwilling to incur the imputation which a declaimer against classical learning must deservedly hazard among its admirers, I shall attempt to show some of the causes that have united to produce this elevation.

The standard to which every one primarily refers what he examines, is the measure of his own power. That work is not admired which he could equal or surpass. This standard, indeed, is soon extended, and similar efforts of genius of other ages are taken into the comparison. The barbarism in which the world was involved at the revival of learning, made the classics appear to its restorers in an unnaturally strong and dazzling light. Possessing themselves few of the advantages of progressive improvement, and destitute and ignorant of the resources of the ancient authors, they viewed their works as the efforts of transcendent genius, which had completely penetrated and exhausted the mines of nature, which none could ever after approach, and only the most exalted minds comprehend. They applied themselves to the examination of the treasures they had discovered, and burst forth into unrestrained admiration of authors from whom they had learned to think and to speak.

All who have since justly appreciated the labors of these fathers of modern literature, have concurred in sentiments of gratitude and reverence to their instructors.

For a great part of the time since the revival of letters, those who aimed at the reputation of scholars have been obliged to establish their claim by a knowledge of the classics. The possessor of this knowledge obtained respect, and continued to cultivate it from the pride of displaying learning which was confined to a few, or from the ambition of excelling in what constituted his chief or only distinction. This was necessarily the case when little other than classical learning existed; and it long continued, like the respect for hereditary succession, from the habit of paying honor to what our predecessors deemed honorable. While prejudices were thus strong in favor of the classics, few ventured to appear without their support, and most that was written tended to preserve and strengthen their ascendancy. Regarded as having assisted the first literary efforts of the majority of the learned men of modern times, and being generally, by the nature of their subjects, better suited than most other books to the comprehension of the young, the classics have long been presented to the infant mind of the scholar, when in its most susceptible state. They have thus occupied the most powerful prepossessions, and been allowed to form and constitute the standard of intellectual beauty and excellence. They have intimately insinuated themselves into the mind, at a period when impressions received are most lasting and most forcible. They have been connected with the tenderest and most pleasing associations; with the memory of the sports and enjoyments of childhood, and the more affecting recollections of the attention of instructors and kindness of parents. Those whom the youth was first taught to respect have been men

devoted to these studies, and employed to point out their beauties, and to direct the yet unformed taste to their perception and just admiration.

It was under the guidance of such conductors, that the young imagination took its earliest flights. The first scenes of native simplicity and happiness it sketched, were amidst the classical vales of Thessaly. The first popular assemblies it regarded with interest, were those of Athens and Rome. The first battles it pictured to itself were fought under the banners of a Grecian or Roman general. Whenever, in after life and other books, pastoral scenery, or popular commotion, or the tumult of war, presented themselves, they brought back these impressions, were re ferred to these exemplars, and the justice and elegance of description were determined by the comparison.

To this may be added the undefined sense of the greatness of an ob ject at first imperfectly comprehended, which continues to display beauties and higher excellences the more closely and attentively it is contem plated. This quality, common to every work of merit, must be particu larly exhibited in those, which, like the classics, are sufficiently intelligible to interest minds not yet adequate to their complete comprehension.

I insist not on the respect that we pay to antiquity; the records of her wisdom, though for ages deemed sacred, have long since been exposed to the gaze and scrutiny of the profane. Her voice is no longer listened to as speaking the language of inspiration. The charm that riveted attention is dissolved. Men of modern times affect to reverence the dictates of reason alone. But the fact has not always been thus; there were times when the classics were respected merely because they contained the legacies of ancient days.

Inductive philosophy has, indeed, taught other precepts; but to those ignorant of these precepts, or impatient of the long and weary path which this philosophy pointed out, some of the Greek classics offered to show a pleasanter and far shorter way to universal science. Having once embraced the theories of the philosophers, they must have rejected with ridicule the pretensions of other books to competition with the works of such as genius has admitted to the secret councils of nature. The works of the Grecian philosophers constitute, indeed, but a small portion of the classics. But how often are we, by our admiration of a favorite author, prepossessed in favor of the whole nation to which he belongs!

But philosophy cannot boast herself; she is silent and contemplative, and must borrow language to communicate her inventions. Philosophical science forms the solid distinction of modern times. Ambitious men may use science as an instrument, but will not pursue it as an end. It is the ostentatious and imposing knowledge of the language, and of the arts which orators and poets have employed to sway the judgment by rousing the passions, and will be sought after by these men; and this knowledge they will find in the classical relics of the days of imagination and enthusiasm.

But if these relics contain more of the fictions of a poetical age, of the playful wanderings of the youth of human society, than of sober reason and thoughtful experience, why do they still delight the wisest of our thinking race?

Our attention, on opening a volume of the classics, is immediately won by the manly and striking manner in which every thing is expressed. Thoughts are pursued with ease as they present themselves in language full, forcible, and distinct. We ascribe wholly to intrinsic merit an excellence

owing, in a degree, to external circumstances. In a language that has been so many centuries written only, the ideas connected with each word have become long since determinately fixed. The attention is not diverted by the numerous indistinct images with which every word of a living language is necessarily associated; nor is the mind liable to be misled by allusions to subjects foreign to the one in view. The application of each word appears strikingly appropriate and peculiar.

In a living language it cannot be thus. Where philosophy must borrow the garb of ordinary life; when she must converse in the same dialect that is employed in the usual transactions of business, and which must present many images that are low and disgusting, and more that are common, though she may please by her familiarity, she cannot but lose the charm of novelty, and the dignity of elevation. Many of the thoughts that seem admirable in the original of the ancient classics, cease to strike in a modern translation. They lose their simple energy of expression, their innocence and delicacy of sentiment, and are debased by associations with the grossness of sensible, or the meanness of trivial objects. Hence it is, that though we may infuse into a translation from the classics all the sense, we cannot the grace and spirit of the original.

These are some of the causes to which the ancient classics owe their elevation. They are esteemed as having assisted the first efforts of reviving literature, and contributed to the highest distinction of modern scholars. They were venerated as the bequest of antiquity; they are still consecrated by their connexion with the pure enjoyments and tender affections of childhood. They are dignified by a lofty freedom from the imperfections of a fluctuating language, and from the analogies and associations that combine obscurity and vulgar coarseness in a language which still continues to be spoken.

XCII.

DISQUISITION.

A Disquisition is a formal or systematic inquiry into any subject by arguments, or discussion of the facts and circumstances that may elucidate truth.

A disquisition differs from a dissertation in its form and extent. A dissertation may be more diffuse in its character, and consequently is generally protracted to a greater length. A disquisition should be characterized by its unity. Nothing should be introduced but what is strictly to the point; while in a dissertation any collateral subjects may be introduced which have a bearing upon the point to be proved, or the subject to be elucidated.

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