encouraging intellectual amusements, to replace the anxiety of danger, or the ferocity of aggression.

In former times, agriculture and war were the chief employments of mankind: "the pomp and circumstance" of glorious contest, as then carried on, elevated the mind to high thoughts, and the domestic and natural charms of rural life, presented those sweet reflections to which refinement can add nothing, save increased skill to impart them. Learning next followed, and a very awkward appearance she made: her captives had not yet learned to trip lightly in her gyves, and the genius of the poet halted in pedantry. Time and taste, placed learning in its proper province, showing how it improved poetry, as a fine road does a rich country-creating nothing, but facilitating all.

Commerce with its changes and chances, next gave "a deep immedicable wound" to poetry: trade in all her subdivided requisitions, called away many a fine poet to wealth and comfort, instead of condemning him to fame and hunger. Law flourished, science and certainties all bore commercial relations; and neglected poetry found mankind too busy to notice her many merits and sweet delights. Still, learning received encouragement, but it was mercantile encouragement; every exertion of the human mind was encountered on the threshold of experiment, with a commercial "cui bono?" Such was the state of poetry and learning in England, towards the end of the eighteenth century.

Amidst this melancholy prospect for learning and poetry, there still survived a redeeming power in England, arising from the nature of rank and property, which continued in familiesand left certain classes independent of commerce. By their members, literature was either directly aided from individual application-by the means they afforded to their children-or the patronage they extended to authors. Commerce raised the value of real possessions, and by simply seeking the gains of trade, conferred an undesigned benefit on poetry and learning.

Perhaps the nature of ranks in England may have no small influence in the maintaining and promotion of poetry. It is a natural feeling of human nature to respect and look up to those who are placed above us, either by worldly state or natural talents to recommend ourselves to them by our best exertions, incited by the hope of gain, or the desire of distinction, is no novel course to those who reflect on human wants, or the means we exert to supply them. Excellent poetry can only be found where patronage, of some kind or other, is extended to its aid. And whether such patronage flow from public or private munificence, the effect is the same, though varying in degree.

If this reasoning is correct, let it be applied to the past and present state of our own country. Have we distinct classes, to

encourage or support an exclusive application to poetry, or even general literature? Have we colleges with appendant institutions, by whose means indigent talent may be fostered, and when matured by learning, rewarded with profit, and so expanded into utility and fame?

We have an immense commerce-the spirit of traffic pervades every thing on the face of our continent, and education is encouraged because good order and prosperity in trade call for it, as a necessary incident: Literature has a share of our attention, because by it, relaxations from the cares of commerce are pleasantly filled up. Industry, coupled with a profitable object, is the distinguishing characteristic of our people. In Holland it is fashionable to be a man of business-with us, every thing that looks like idleness, is promptly rewarded either with angry reproach, or unconcealed contempt. This is right, and it has a very salutary effect; but, like many good principles, it carries us too far. No distinction is taken between positive inexertion, and that kind of application, whose result is not ready at hand, or whose ultimate advantage is not open to the powers of arithmetic. A wealthy merchant who trades in banks or lands, ships or stocks, begins the education of his son right early, with a view to make him a lawyer, a physician, or a clergyman: he enters him at college, when a school-madam has scarcely resigned her lawful authority over him, and, after struggling a few years through languages and sciences, his education is completed with his "commencement speech," and he betakes himself "scarce half made up" to a learned avocation, with scholarship nearly sufficient to entitle him to admission into a European college. If, after a young man has shaken himself free from his professor's bonds, a love of learning leads him to a further cultivation of letters, his friends are alarmed, and a variety of gloomy opinions are given on his case-that he is losing his time-that he should begin professional studies-that his learning, when commercially summed up, will fully meet the drafts of either law, physic, or divinity--and what has he to do with languages and sciences, when he has left college? All this may be worldly wisdom--but it is very unreasonable to seek and expect grain, where the green blade has been cropped close. Why should we look for profound learning when its pursuit is prevented? and why should we hope for poetical excellence, when the leisure by which it is cultivated and produced, is denied-by branding its votary as an idler, because he is guilty of devoting himself to one species of labour, in preference to another? It is a great mistake to suppose that poetic talent, even in natural poets, does not require studious cultivation. Pope thought differently. How great is the inequality

between the early, and matured productions of the best poets! In this view, there is nothing humiliating in a confession of the puny state of our poetical efforts :-we are not eminent in learning, nor excellent in poetry; neither do we make chronometers, fine watches, lace, and a thousand other things, which older countries produce: but we possess the means of their production, should the demands and institutions of society require and support them. If the number and excellence of British poets declined from the ardent pursuit of trade, though cherished in academic bowers guarded by entailed possessions, and courted to exertion by the smiles of rank and the hopes of preferment and profit; surely we have no reason to hope for poetical reputation, when pressed down by a like cause, and unsustained by like institutions. Why should the same debilitating principle, which smote the poetry of England in full grown vigour with feebleness, strike health and excellence into the poetic aspirations of a new country?

The little book before us is the effort of an American lady, and as such claims our attention, while its poetic merit challenges our respect. Every man of sense and sentiment, must view with hearty satisfaction the literary improvement of the females of his country. It gives the most unequivocal testimony of the refinement of society; because the exercise of female attainment is always domestic and social. The wisdom, wit, or imagination of man may be of unrivalled excellence and the domestic circle still share but little of their influence, in pleasure or improvement, -professional duties, abstraction, or an unamiable cast of temper, may obscure his qualities; but the business of woman is domestic duty; therefore the place of weary relaxation to men is the scene of enlivened exertion to females, and in proportion as the minds of women are neglected or improved, the society which they give tone to, must be rude or polished.

The diction, thought, and versification, display refined taste, carefully improved by education: and though the poem, taken generally, wants that interest which might be produced from a better story, and incidents more skilfully enlarged or disposed; yet as it stands, perhaps the proportionable interest it creates by the force of poetic talent alone, is more a matter of credit to the lady, than if we were surprised into applause by the novelty of the tale, or the unexpectedness and ingenuity of the incidents. The following description of a storm at Hell-gate, is natural, flowing, and forcible.

VOL. II.

'Where Hell-gate boils with awful roar,
And spray bedews the reckless shore,
And to the left, with wondrous sweep,
High forming o'er a rocky steep,
50

The water like a sheet of snow
Descends into a gulf below.
Alone, the vivid lightning's power,
Midst darkness of a midnight hour,
The scene displays; no kindlier ray,
To light him on his dreary way.
And long he strives his bark to keep
From eddying waves, where chasms deep
Warn the horn heart that death is near,
And yawn a frightful sepulchre!
The forked lightning darts around,

Amidst the pealing thunder's sound.

The description of the appearance of morning, as viewed from the seashore, has considerable merit; and the Periphrasis for a ship, in the closing lines, is novel, poetical and elegant.

Gay beam'd the morn-a brighter sun
Ne'er shone upon a fairer land.
Refreshed from slumber, rose Fitz-Erne,
And musing sought the sea-beat strand;
Before him lay the blue expanse
Of water spread, the rippling bay
With softest murmur courts his glance;
Where many a bark, with streamer gay,
And Ocean's loftier burthen, glide

Along its dark and hastening tide.'

This poem, when rightly considered, affords us no small cause for gratulation,-more indeed for what it indicates, than what it is. It proves that well-directed education of the most valued kind, is doing its good work among us, it shows that there is a species of female improvement springing up, that depends, not upon charming the eye, or delighting the ear,-whose exertions are not cut up by the roots, from added years, a lame foot, an ailing finger or a heavy cold; but whose influence and advantage are co-extensive with life itself, and when accident or age sweep away all but the faded recollections of other accomplishments, they add force and value to lettered cultivation. It is a national object of deep and general interest, that the education of the female sex should be carefully improved, and their talents diligently encouraged. The manners of women have a most decisive influence on society, by moulding the minds of the young, restraining and polishing the adult, and ministering, with "angel grace," comfort and consolation to age. Surely those duties must be performed, with an effect proportioned to the intellectual improvement of the agent. Narrow must be the intelligence, and unenviable the sentiment of that sceptic who hesitates, on the national necessity of female education.

ART. XI. Fanny. Second Edition. New-York. Wiley and Halsted. 1821. pp. 68.

WHO has not read Fanny ?-both the first and the second editions of it—that delightful bagatelle, which some unknown but highly favoured protege of the Muses has brought out, to turn care into mirth, gravity into light-heartedness, ennui into self complacency, and pride, pedantry, affectation, extravagance, folly, and the first society-into fun.

We are not without apprehension that the notice we take of it, will be deemed by some, a matter of supererogation; inasmuch as its popularity has already anticipated all the encomiums, which, in our stern and censorial character, it could be supposed we should be at liberty to pass, on the frolic fancies of this son of Apollo. We shall not, however, suffer any fears on this point to overcome the consciousness of what belongs to our "high calling," nor permit, by our silence, an inference to be drawn, that we do not think some additional importance will be attached to a book, from its receiving at our hands," recorded honours."

Brief as it is, we met with some embarrassments in its perusal, which we shall notify to our readers. Our earliest and virgin copy of the second edition,-without a cover on, and before it was half read-strayed somehow insensibly away from our critical fingers, into the fair and favourite hand of youth, taste, intelligence and beauty. We forthwith ordered another copy, which was captured in our library, almost as soon as it reached there, by a fine, good-hearted country spavan, who said, as he coolly rolled it up and consigned it to his pocket, that he had fallen in love with Fanny, from the "expectations," which beamed upon her in the first edition; and he was anxious to know what effect her "misfortunes," set forth in the second, would have upon his passion. Another copy was then procured, but before we had an opportunity to cut the leaves, a literary friend who was on the point of sailing for England, called to bid us "good by," and saying he had no time to go to the publishers, craved leave to take it, to amuse the passengers on the voyage; adding, that on his arrival in London, he would despatch it to Lord Byron, at Venice, just to let him know that we could give out the poetic fling on this side of the water, in as fine and careless a style as the wits "t'other side the ferry,"-and with better morals, than are displayed in his Beppo and Don Juan.

The Fanny, of the first edition was furnished by the appropriating sagacity and the sensitive fears of the day, with sundry "local habitions," and a variety of "names." She was decidedly recognised one evening, at a very famous tea party, un