woman, the oftener that it smiles on the world, the more it is sought after.

In this country we enjoy the advantages of political information abundantly. Our newspapers find their way to the most obscure log cabins that are secreted amidst the recesses of our woods. This has rendered our people, at least, equal in political knowledge to any on earth. The rights and duties of individuals in society, the propriety or impropriety of national measures, the constitutionality and policy of legislative proceedings, the fitness or unfitness of public officers, and all the other et cetera of questions relative to good or bad government, are as familiar to the mass of our people, and, by many of them, as well understood, as by some of the senators and counsellors of other countries.

But, on subjects of literature, can we say any thing like this? We should, indeed, feel proud if we could. If more extended views of other countries; if more minute historical and biographical knowledge; if more accurate principles of taste were inculcated among us; in short, if we had only one half of the relish for the belles-lettres, that we have for news and politics, we should, indeed, be a people to be envied. In addition to our acknowledged political advantages, we would then enjoy sources of intellectual gratification, of which we are now comparatively destitute, and means of acquiring an intellectual eminence among the nations, to which we cannot at present lay claim. How glorious would such an era be for America! How proud would be the feelings of those who pant for her renown in that which constitutes a nation's highest glory, the excellence of her authors! Then would we no longer wait with degrading hesitation to ascertain the judgment of the Edinburgh and London critics, on the works of our writers, before we ventured to express our own; for then we would feel a consciousness of being able to judge for ourselves, and of conferring by our own verdict a reputation on such writers as please, which no foreign tribunal of criticism would have the power to alter.

But this consummation of national eminence, can never be realized until the great body of our people look upon literature as a thing of more importance than they have hitherto done; for,

from them only can flow in sufficient abundance, that solid remuneration to authors, for their labours, which is necessary to supply such a vital warmth to literature as will make it flourish. At the present moment we are far from being destitute of writers, some of whom have given high indications of superior talent, and who, if they were on the other side of the Atlantic, would soon shine conspicuous among the luminaries of the age; but, in this country, they are obliged to check the aspirations of their genius, from the chilling indifference, and perhaps censure, with which they know that their productions would be received.

A few of them, indeed, in spite of these discouragements, have made attempts for fame, and have struggled into an extorted distinction. Some of our poets have venturously expanded their wings, and with surprizing boldness, attempted flights, which had they only received the buoyant aid of public applause, they would have been fully able to sustain, in an attitude and manner honourable to their country as well as to themselves. One or two of our novelists have, of late, somewhat more successfully forced their way into notice, and drawn from the public a reluctant acknowledgment of their merits, and a moderate encouragement to pursue their course. But there are others, perhaps equally meritorious, who have not been so fortunate; and whose condemnation to ingratitude and neglect is sufficient to chill the attempts of the most enthusiastic mind after literary reputation.

As to our periodical literature, the vast disproportion between our means and the encouragement we afford it, has been too often and too justly a subject of complaint among our literary circles, not to be sufficiently notorious. The North American Review appears, at present, to be the only work of the kind to which a fair support is given; and it is surely a matter calculated to excite in the reflecting mind, a feeling of both surprise and regret, that twenty-six states, inhabited by ten millions of Christians, should not be able to yield to the conductors of more than one journal of original literature a respectable remuneration for their labours.

In conducting this Review, there is, indeed, a vast force of

May no frost

talent employed, and when we consider the amount of our population, and our means, we cannot but think its patronage, respectable as it is, still unequal to its merits. But it indicates that a more generous spirit, in respect to literature, is springing up amongst us. We rejoice to see it. of Gothic feeling, or mildew of heartless avarice, check it in its growth, until it produces flowers and fruits, the generous influence of which will expand every bosom to liberality in respect to authors and authorship, and render a due patronage of them so prevalent in the land, as to exalt our character, in this particular, to an honourable eminence among the nations.

Reviews are a species of periodicals, which have, of late years, assumed a very dignified and commanding station in the world of letters. They are, in respect to their origin, of a rather more recent date than Magazines. The Critical Review, established by Dr. Smollet, in the year 1755, was the first regular journal of that nature. Literary criticism, it is true, is as old as the days of Aristotle; and, in England, it was long practised before it assumed the periodical form. It is in its nature more limited than the Magazine; but it is less desultory, and less amusing. The disadvantage, however, that attends its restriction to one particular department of literature, enables it to concentrate its powers, and to produce a more forcible effect on the world. The Magazine admits into its pages an almost endless variety of subjects. It is, therefore, calculated to afford entertainment to a greater variety of tastes and dispositions. But, in agitating any one topic, it is generally less full and effective than the Review is on those topics that come under its investigation. The latter, also, perhaps, commands more respect, because it excites more awe. Writers acknowledge its authority, and frequently tremble at its decisions; and the public naturally respect every thing that possesses power to confer favour or inflict chastisement.

On the other hand, if the Magazine be less authoritative, it is generally more pleasing, because more diversified in its subjects, more free and concise in its manner, and more frequently original in its matter.

An article on any subject, under any title, and in any form

may be admitted into a Magazine. It is by its very nature a general storehouse, into which, without incongruity, any thing that can be printed may appear. A sonnet, or a sermon, a mathematical problem, or a congressional debate, a treatise on the longitude, or an inquiry after the author of Waverly, and a thousand other topics equally heterogeneous, are equally admissible.

A Review on the contrary, to be consistent with its character, can do nothing but criticise, or, if it ventures to do any thing more, it must be under the mask of criticism. It must be indebted, if not to the contents, at least to the title page of some book which it forces into its service for the occasion. A Magazine being less restricted, is more wieldy and independent, In it the prevailing manners of the day can be more readily represented, and the passing events more connectedly related. Through its medium the oppressed may complain of his griev ances, and the accused proclaim his justification. The pathetic tale to soften the heart, the glowing description to warm it; the example and the precept to strengthen virtue; and the welltimed exhortation and solemn warning to check the career of vice; the investigation after truth; the elucidation of the laws of nature, of taste, of morality, and of the social compact-all these, and whatever other topics can either amuse or instruct mankind, may find admission into the pages of a Magazine.

It is for these reasons, that we have preferred giving this un restricted form to the work we now offer to the American public. We will not reject Reviews. On the contrary, we intend that few of our numbers shall pass into the world without some article of criticism. But we will not bind ourselves to the im plicit observance of any particular routine of subjects. We have, indeed, an arrangement for the articles we shall insert, in view, and to this arrangement we shall adhere as closely as propriety will admit. When we deviate from it, it shall be only when we conceive it to be our duty either to our readers or ourselves.

We shall leave the further elucidation of our design to the execution of the work; which, we trust, the contributions of that talent which abounds in the country, will enable us to VOL. I.-No. 1.

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render worthy of the patronage we solicit, and conducive to the rising reputation of American literature.

REMARKS ON THE SCOTCH PREACHER, EDWARD IRVING.

THE people of the British capital seem never to be without some object of fashionable excitement. Sights and prodigies are, indeed, the delight of all large and luxurious cities; and of them, London generally possesses its full share. Pugilists, quack doctors, Egyptian mummies, Japanese mermaids, young Roscius's, learned pigs, and every species of monster that the freaks of nature can produce, or the imaginations of men invent, all make their way, some time or other, to that great focus of wealth, dissipation, and extravagant desires. So long as a conjurer, a merry-andrew, or an opera singer, or any other worldly object of attraction continued to excite the admiration, and lighten the pockets of the wonder-loving crowd, the thing would be quite right; it would be perfectly in character, and altogether according to custom. Nay, even if a Burdett dinner, a king's coronation, or a queen's trial, should become the stimulus of the day, there would be nothing strange in it, and we should not think it worth notice. But who can forbear to express surprise, when a minister of the gospel becomes the spectacle? When the church becomes the scene of fashionable amusement, the place for high life to show-off, and the delectables of the true ton to obtain a delightful squeeze, among the dear crowd, then plain people may surely be permitted to wonder, without being charged with either rusticity or impertinence.

The show of the day is neither an Indian chief, nor a Bonaparte's carriage, nor a Hottentot Venus, nor a Russian czar, nor even a Johanna Southcote. These would be legitimate objects for drawing a crowd, for they are not to be scen every day. But, who can believe it that has not seen it! in this the most fashionable age of the world, and among the most fashionable people in it, the object of wonder, with which all the gay