feeling; and, though here we cannot enter the lists with those simple and delightful relaxations which constituted the neverforgotten pleasures of youth, we have all those associations which are suited to a more advanced age, to a loftier flight of intellect; and we enjoy a variety of pursuit, that, in its ample extent, may interest every one, from the profound speculations of philosophy to the elegancies of literature; and from the stores of history and the severities of reason, to the bright visions of fancy and imagination.

Amongst the personal and immediate benefits which we may enumerate, are the important and interesting subjects of REFLECTION, which arise out of the principles, the sentiments, and ideas, developed in the lectures and essays, or elicited in the discussions of the Society.

"In the multitude of counsellors there is wisdom:" no single mind was ever free from occasional error. We have here the benefit of many opinions; yet mere unexamined opinions may be but the weed, not the useful and salutary plant. The fire of truth is extracted by the collision of opposite minds, or it is raised up from that profundity in which it is fabled to repose by the repeated exertions of its united votaries. In the statements and opinions which we hear delivered by our lecturers, our writers, and speakers, we have the means of constant and varied reflection; and, in the subjects that are selected and announced for future attention, we are invited to the exercise of the speculative and inventive powers.

It is obvious that in the present condition of society, a considerable part of the knowledge which is acquired by the residents in extensive cities, must be chiefly obtained through the medium of these literary and scientific Institutions. The education of the school is only elementary; it lays the foundation, but the superstructure must be raised by other means. Universities are within the reach only of a few, and for the rest of mankind there is no sufficient means of affording scope for the exercise of their faculties, except in the Institutions we are recommending.

One of the principal benefits resulting from these Societies, is the appropriate preparation they afford for almost every species of public business. In the discussions so often held upon the comparative advantages of public and private edu. cation, one of the main arguments in favour of the former, is, that for those destined to active business, or to any kind of public life, the emulation excited, the example held forth, and the contentions and struggles amidst a numerous establishment, like a world in miniature, are admirably adapted to prepare the temper, the habits, and the mind, for a wider display in the bustling scenes of society. If we subscribe to

the truth of this position, we may claim for these Institutions a similar advantage. Here much of the interest of our meetings depends on the investigation of those difficult and questionable topics which excite animated discussion. We live only amidst diversity of opinion; we owe our vitality to that investigating and searching spirit which subjects every proposition to the scrutiny of criticism, to the tests of experience, and the rules of logic.

The efficient members of such Institutions will, in the business of life, possess infinite advantages over their fellows, who, endowed with minds of perhaps equal dimensions, have neglected to cultivate them with the same care for these latter, wisdom has lifted up her voice in vain; they have chosen their portion in indolence, and they have their reward in vacuity. By a kind of moral suicide, they have cut themselves off from all communion with whatever can enlarge or ennoble the mind, and they must not repine at seeing themselves distanced in the race of honourable distinction, by many whose natural abilities are inferior to their own. He who is willing thus to prepare for himself the bitter draught of disappointment, who is content to be ignorant, rather than submit to the labour of becoming learned,—has nothing to do with such Institutions; but to him who can appreciate the blessings of knowledge, and would enjoy them,-to him who would improve the advantages of a liberal education, or supply the defects of an imperfect one,-to him who would cultivate the reason with which God has endowed him, and advance himself in the scale of moral being, literary institutions, by rendering the treasures of learning easily accessible, afford opportunities of mental improvement which could be enjoyed by few in an equal degree without them.

The composition of original essays and papers may be presumed to be in several ways beneficial. By this an opportunity is afforded to the young and the diffident, of trying their powers in the difficult task of literary composition. It can scarcely be doubted that many individuals, endowed at least with a respectable portion of literary talent,-that many who could have contributed something either to inform or amuse mankind, have descended to their graves unconscious of the powers they possessed; no fortunate event occurred to rouse the dormant fire within them, and it gradually wasted with the lamp of life, unobserved, either by themselves or others.

"Full many a gem of purest ray serene,

The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear,
Full many a flower is born to bloom unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

Few are inclined to undertake the labour of literary composition gratuitously; few will write, when there is little prospect that their productions will ever be read: without some motive to propel them to active exertion, the greater part even of those who are captivated with the charms of knowledge, will degenerate into mere literary loungers; they will at best become but indices to the thoughts of others-walking dictionaries of ancient and modern learning. These institutions, then, afford precisely the stimulus required: they call upon a man to search into the stores of his own mindto bring into action all his resources; they take him out of leading-strings, and urge him to rely upon himself; they afford him a field for intellectual exercise, and invite him to ascertain and develope the powers of his mind: the young and unpractised writer may, under their influence, train himself to the successful use of the weapons of his art; the modest and retiring may dismiss from his mind the torments of apprehension; convinced that prejudice and malignity are not arrayed against him, he will submit with confidence the result of his labours to the liberal and friendly criticism of his literary associates: the seeds of talent, thus cherished, may probably take root, grow, flourish, and ultimately bear fruit, which shall confer an equal degree of honour upon the individual himself, and upon the institution which was the foster-mother of his genius.

No one, it is presumed, however great his zeal for the various branches of natural philosophy, will contend that morals, and general literature, are subjects of inferior interest and importance. It is somewhere observed, that "we are mathematicians only occasionally, and by chance-moralists perpetually, and by necessity." Although all the branches of knowledge will richly repay the attention of the inquisitive student, it may be safely affirmed, without disrespect to any of them, that the science of morals stands first in utility, and in dignity; it is that most essential to the well-being of mankind; it is that (to use the words of Johnson) "by which the concatenation of society is preserved;" it is that, which, like the poet's eye, glancing "from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven," connects us with purer worlds, and happier scenes of existence. The beneficial effects of elegant literature, in purifying and elevating the mind, are too apparent to require proofs; and it will not be too much to say, that, religion excepted, nothing besides has contributed so largely to the sum of human happiness. It is surely, then, not less desirable to collect the floating particles of information connected with these important and delightful pursuits, than those which regard objects of more distant interest and less evident

utility. Let not an intention be supposed, of depreciating the value of the more abstruse sciences; they afford an honourable employment to those whose taste leads them to such studies, and their progress is a glorious monument to the powers of human intellect: but morals, and general literature, with some of the most popular and interesting branches of the study of nature, will even have greater attractions for the majority of mankind, and it is to be desired that they should they are more generally captivating, because they come home to the bosoms of all; they are more extensively useful, because they are more intimately connected with the business of life.

"For not to know at large of things remote

From use obscure and subtle, but to know
That which before us lies in daily life
Is the prime wisdom."

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If it be desirable to encourage men to cultivate their minds, and to open to them the fountains of knowledge,-to animate diffident ability, and cherish unobtrusive merit,—to inspire men with a zeal for truth, and enable them to reason with accuracy and precision,-to teach the indolent to labour, the careless to attend, and the obtuse to discriminate; if it be praiseworthy to substitute candour and charity in the place of prejudice and intolerance, and to strengthen the ties which bind man to man, literary institutions have solid and substantial claims to the tribute of our applause.

ཨ་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་་

ODE TO SCIENCE.

I.

BLEST SCIENCE! proudest daughter of the sky;
Sent from the blissful seats above,
Robed in unfading light to move;
To shed effulgence on the mental eye:
Piercing the desert tracks of earth,
And waking to her nobler birth,
Th' immortal mind of man,

Since thou hast visited the world below

Since first thy glorious beams began

To chase the shades of ignorance and woe

O'er renovated earth a brighter day

Has dawned, and bigot gloom has fled before thy ray.

2

II.

Increasing splendour hath thy path illumed;
As Phoebus from the eastern hills,
With floods of light the valley fills,

That in the shades of night had slept entomb'd;
And gilding, with his welcome beam,
The field, the forest, and the stream,
Arrays the joyous world in living light-
So hast thou risen on the sight!

Yet brighter does thy glory seem;
For that yields not to dim succeeding night;
Upon thy path no darkness falls;

Nor clouds nor winter mar thy reign;
Thy form no deepening twilight palls;
But life, and light, and love are there,
A happiness unknown to pain;
A hope unbroken by despair.

Eternal and increasing day is thine;

And round thy heavenly brows immortal glories shine.

III.

And thou hast breathed into the soul of man

Thine own etherial fire,

That never can expire,

Nor leave him wrapt in clouds again:

The power of thy spirit is in him ; 1

In him, whose mind before was chain'd and dim

In error's mazes almost lost;

In storms of barbarous passion toss'd;

A bark upon the foaming tide,
Without a rudder that might guide

The vessel on its lone benighted way,
When not a star bestow'd its welcome ray,
To point its wish'd, but dubious track,
Across the pathless desert of the sea;
Or lead it to its haven bark.

'Twas thine to set man's prison'd spirit free-
The best of freedom thou hast given,
The freedom of the soul!

That aims her flight from pole to pole,

And on unearthly wings, sweeps the blue vault of heaven.

IV.

When first thy foot alighted on the earth,
The midnight crew-the bigot train,
That brooding Superstition hatch'd to birth,
Fled howling, never more to reign ;