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the literary atmosphere of the place should be wholly left out of the account, though no consideration be had whatever of the enlargement and illumination of mind that must be caught involuntarily, in a two or three years' abode at an academical city, still to have redeemed so much time from the saloons, and the worse than saloons of the metropolis, is enough. No one can doubt that the want of some such nursery of character in France, the immediate transition from boarding-school and private tutelage, to the vices of the capital and the army, was one great cause of the degeneracy of the once gallant heraldry of that country; a degeneracy under which the spirit of the order was so wholly broken, that when the revolution came on, there was found scarce a member of the aristocracy, to assert their claims to more privileges and greater fortunes, than were ever swept away by a popular storm.

Lastly, the English universities are entitled to respect, as a great integral part of the church establishment; and when so considered, some objections often urged to them will lose their foi'ce. It is objected, for instance, that at one of the great English universities, subscription to the thirty-nine articles is necessary for admission, and at the other for a degree; and this, if you look upon the universities as we look on all public institutions in our country, a3 the property of the people, the common inheritance of all, seems a hardship. But if you consider the universities as a part of the religious establishment, to murmur against the privileges secured to the friends of the church in the universities, or to the children of the universities in the church, is to quarrel with an institution for supporting, encouraging, and upholding itself.

For ourselves, with the veneiation we feel for the great masters of English literature, it is impossible not to transfer no little share of the sentiment to the seats of science, where their minds were formed. That American must have a temper, which we are happy not to be able to comprehend, who could go up into the tower over the gate-way of Trinity College, or walk round the gardens of Christ's, at Cambridge, and think that he was pressing the footsteps of Newton and Milton, without a thrill which no reasonings or cavils can keep down. We of America have here

an advantage over our English brethren, in that keen enthusiasm which we feel for the famous spots and abodes, that are consecrated to both alike, by the great names associated with them. To them the constant presence and familiarity of the scene blunt the edge of the feelings it excites in us, and Westminster Abbey and Stratford-on-Avon, awaken an enthusiasm in an American fancy, which the Englishman smiles at, as a sort of provincial rawness. Instead of assenting to those on both sides of the water, who have spoken of America as unfortunate in the want of ancient associations, as condemned to a kind of matter of fact,'unpoetical, newness of national character, we maintain that never nation, since the world began, had so rich a treasure of traditional glory. Is it nothing to be born, as it were, with the birthright of two native lands; to sail across the world of waters, and be hailed beyond it by the sound of your native tongue? Is it nothing to find in another hemisphere the names, the customs, and the dress of your own; to be able to trace your ancestry back, not to the ranks of a semi-barbarous conqueror, or the poor mythology of vagrants and fugitives of fabulous days, but to noble, high-minded men in an age of glory, than which a brighter never dawned on the world? Is it nothing to be able, as you set your foot on the English soil, "and with a heart going back to all the proud emotions which bind you at the moment to the happy home you have left, to be able still, nevertheless, to exclaim, with more than poetical, with literal natural truth,

Salve magna parens fruguir, Salurnia tellm,

Magna virfnu! If there be any feeling, merely na-' tional, which can compare with this, it should be that which corresponds to it; the complacency, with which it were to be hoped the wise and good friends of British glory in England would regard this flourishing off-set of their own native stock; the pride with which they should witness the progress of their language, their manners, their laws and their literature, over regions wider than the conquests of Alexander; and that not by a forced and military imposition on a conquered land, but by a lair and natural inheritance, and still more by a voluntary adoption and choice; the joy with which they should

reflect reflect, that not a note is struck at the centre of thought and opinion in the British capital, but is heard and propagated by our presses, to the valley of the Missouri, and that if the day should come hi the progress of national decline, when England shall be gathered with the empires that have been, when her thousand ships shall have disappeared from the ocean, and the mighty chaiu of her wealth shall be broken, with which she has so long bound the European world to her chariot-wheels, and mustered the nations, from the banks of the Tagus to the banks of the Don, to march beneath the banner of her coalitions, that then there wiU be no unworthy descendant to catch her mantle; and that the rich treasure of her institutions and character, instead of becoming the unrescued prey of Huns and Vandals, and whatever uncouth name of barbarism laid waste of old the refinements of the world, will be preserved, upheld, and perfected in the western world of promise.

We have allowed our feelings to carry us too far from the subject which we were considering, and from the tribute of respect we wished to pay to the illustrious literary establishments of England. But we would have this tribute as houset as it is hearty and sincere; and we cannot therefore but express with it the opinion, that though the English universities do not profess to be simply schools of instruction, still that, even in this department, some improvements might be made, and that the youth of rank and fortune which resort to them, might fill up their time more profitably and usefully, as well as innocently, by a more zealous and extensive course of academical study, than we believe prevails at them. The unexampled success of Blackstone's lectures on the law, and the permanent service which they have rendered the study of that profession, ought to encourage a more frequent imitation of the example. On the continent, at least in those parts of it where public education is on a good footing, the children of the aristocracy pass the time of their residence at the university, in attending courses of lectures on the law, on history, geography and statistics, on the natural sciences, pn diplomacy. These are thought to merit their attention, as those who are to fill the front ranks in society; while, at the English universities, the zeal and efforts of the same class are chiefly di

rected to general classical studies, or the abstract study of the mathematics, each of which is worthy of great attention, but neither nor both affording exclusively an adequate training for the future politician, statesman, legislator, or man of affluent leisure.

To, the Oxford lectures on Hebrew poetry, is unquestionably to be ascribed the firstspring given to the study of the Bible, in the enlightened spirit of the modern school of sacred literature. The Latin language, in which they were written, secured them easy access to the German universities and schools, and an edition of them with annotations, and an appendix, was soon published by MichKelis, who stood at that time at the head of the biblical critics of his country; and who, as well as his successors, concedes to Bishop Lowth, the merit of having first penetrated into the spirit of Hebrew antiquity, and sets the example of the true mode of studying and enjoying its literary remains.

This affords one of many examples of the utility of a lingua doctorum communis. We suppose there are few scholars, who have had occasion to reflect on the subject, who have not had their doubts whether the disuse of the tongue, once common to scholars, be not upon the whole disadvantageous to the cause of letters. Theie was certainly something grand in this learned community of language; in this remedy, by no means inconsiderable, of the great catastrophe of Babel, which enabled the scholar wherever he went, to find his native tongue; and which, so long as it continued to be the depository of science and literature, emancipated him from this slavery of learning half a dozen languages. Let us consider, too, how much of our modern literature is translation, or the saying over in one language what had been better said in another, and still more that with all our translations, a mountain, a river, or an invisible political boundary, makes us substantially strangers to the efforts which the human mind has made and is making among our fellow men. One great blow to the universality of the Latin as a learned language, was abolishing the piactice of lecturing in it, in the German universities. This was first done by Thomasius, a professor at Halle, in the beginning of the last century; and his example has so generally prevailed, that few or no lectures are now delivered in that tongue in Germany. In the Dutch universities the

practice practice is still kept up, and all the lectures are delivered in Latin, even those on the national Dutch literature. This language too may there, oftener than elsewhere, be heard out of the lecture room. We have heard it more pleasantly, 'we presume, than accurately, said of Ruhnkenius, the last modern scholar, to whose name the venerable ius is permanently attached, that Latin was the only language he was able to speak. He was a native of Pomerania, and as such the German was his vernacular tongue. That he had lost in his long residence in Holland, without having had occasion to acquire the Dutch, as the whole business of his calling was discharged in i Latin. A little bad French he had picked up for society, but Latin was his mother tongue. We happened to be present in the study of his late lamented successor, the illustrious Wyttenbach, at an interview between natives of America, England, Holland, and Greece, where the conversation was of necessity conducted in Latin, as the only common tongue. The Latin language was perhaps used for the last time, as a vernacular langunge, by the Hungarian diet. In 1S05 it was abolished as the language of this diet, and the native Hungarian substituted. This took -place in consequence of fheefforls made by the Austrian government from the time of Joseph II. to force the German language upon the Hungarians, with the design of eradicating their own. This of course had the effect of making their own doubly precious in their eyes, and so much has it since been cultivated, that it has quite driven out the German and Latin from the schools and the diet; so that now the Hungarian people enjoy the great privilege of speaking, under the appellation of Magyar, a language wholly unique, associated neither with the Roman, Celtic, Teutonic, or Sclavonian stock, and of course the least likely to be learned by a foreigner, of any tongue in Europe. Such as it is, they pursue it themselves with singular zeal, and not a national press in Europe is more prolific of original works, as well as translations, than that of Pesth, the Hungarian capital.

It has appeared to us, if with a limited acquaintance we have a right to judge of the subject, that too much attainable good is sacrificed, at the English universities, by adherence to ancient prescriptions. We know not where else

in the world so munificent a palronage of learning exists as the endowment of tbe fellowships at Oxford and Cambridge. It is said that the revenues of the richest fellowships are £^00 a year, a salary as high, or higher, than that of the governor or chief justice of Massachusetts. The number of fellowships so rich as this may not be large, but the whole annual amount appropriated in this way to the support of men of learning, at the universities, is well known to be great; great even with the less frugal English notions of an appointment. And yet the manner in which these livings are attained, and the tenure-by which (hey are held, prevent them, we apprehend, from rendering half the good to the cause of learning, of which under a different administration they might be made productive. Some fellowships indeed are open to all the world, as those of Trinity College, Cambridge; others are limited to certain districts of counties, others to single counties, to single parishes, to single schools. At Oxford, the Magdalen fellowships are said to be the best. Of these, five belong to the diocese of Winchester, seven to the county of Lincoln, four to Oxford, three to Berks, &c. At new college, Oxford, the fellows must be elected from Winchester school; and at King's College, Cambridge, from Eton school. This holdsof scholarships, another class of establishments similar in nature, though subordinate in rank, to fellowships, and which should be considered as a part of the system, inasmuch as the fellows, if we are not misinformed, are chosen from among the scholars.

We suppose that when these establishments were originally founded, the literary and clerical profession, for these were then identical, could not support itself: and it was necessary that permanent provision should be made for those, who were to teach and preach, as there is now adays for those who fight. The colleges were founded, to afford such provision for the training and supporting of the clergy. Places of general education, we suppose, they were not; for there was nobody, at the period of the establishment of the more ancient of them, to be educated. It Is only an improvement, forced upon them by the progress of society, that other scholars, besides the stipendiaries on the foundations, have been received at them to be educated. Now that the' wealth acquired by the commercial and agricultural cultural classics has built up a middle order of society, unknown iu the feudal ages, possessed of the means of pursuing whatever calling inclination may suggest, the original object of the colleges, viz. as indispensable nurseries for literary and clerical men, has become, if not subordinate, at least only collaterally important. There would now be learned men enough and clergymen enough, without so many or so rich fellowships and scholarships; and as England is the only country in the world, where such establishments exist in any considerable degree, so without them England would be able, as well as other countries, to provide for the interests of literature and the church.

There is no doubt but that, in many single cases, the patronage afforded by these establishments is, in the highest degree, seasonable in its application, and happy in its effects. But tnat the whole system, as existing in all its parts, is valuable in proportion to the costliness of the apparatus, we cannot fully persuade ourselves. A bov makes interest to be put on the foundation at one of the great schools, at Eton, Westminster, Winchester, Merchant tailors'; or he is put on such a foundation, because he was born in a certain parish, county, or diocese. Once a scholar there, he usually becomes a scholar at some college. He then becomes fellow, and at last succeeds to the first living in the

fift of his college, that falls in, which appens on an average at the age of forty or forty-five. The moral effect of this system on the hearts and characters of the aspirants is feelingly and eloquently described, by the ingenious author of Espriella's letters. The literary effect of the whole system is, that from boyhood the individual secures a provision for lire. It may be that he shall all along deserve such provision, and turn it to the account of religion and letters. But in no step of the progress does he enjoy the patronage because he

deserves it, but because he had the good fortune to get into the circle which is moving round, and will bring him his turn in due time. Now we do really think that this must of itself encourage indolence, and bring on an indifference to personal reputation. But the evil goes farther, for so many places in the church, as are thus appended to the fellowships, are so many rewards of exertion and merit removed from the market, so that a less worthy candidate may be promoted, and a more worthy one neglected. Besides this patronage in the church, thus forestalled, the fellowships themselves present a vast amount of patronage, which might be turned to greater account, by having greater respect to merit in its distribution.

If it be said that the Fellows earn their support, by the services they personally render to learning and religion, we are not disposed to deny that they do all that can be expected of men in their place, fieu from the spur of necessity, not wrought upon by emulation, under the lethargic air which has infested all establishments from the beginning. As instructors of the universities they serve the public; but a portion only of them are wanted in this way: and the circumstance that the fellowship is but a temporary provision, and that as soon as a few years' experience have well qualified an individual as an instructor, he is likely to be called away to a living, makes the fellowships of less use, even in this respect, than might be expected. While at the present day, and in England, learning is really so much honoured, and employed, and so well paid, it cannot be thought that its interests would suffer, were these appropriations for the support of an order of learned men in a state of celibacy (for that is the universal condition of fellowship) thrown into the commou stock, to find their way into the hands of the industrious and the deserving.


REPORT RELATIVE to the MOVING BOG of Kilmaleadv. in King's County, made by order of the Royal Dublin Society.

Royal Dublin Society-House, July 10,1821.

IN compliance with the request of the Royal Dublin Society, I have visited the moving bog of Kilmaleady; and Monthly Mag. No. 35S.

finding on my return to Dublin to-day, that very erroneous notions, respecting its magnitude and destructive effects, have been entertained, I think it my duty immediately to communicate to you, for the information of the society, some account of the nature and extent of this once alarming phenomenon.

T Tht

The bog of Kilmaleady, from whence the eruption broke out, situated about two miles to the north of the village of <'lara, in King's County, is of considerable extent; it may probably contain about 590 acres; in many parts it is 40 feet in depth; and it is considered to be the wettest bog in the county. It is bounded on all sides, except the south, by steep ridges of high land, which are composed at the top,of limestone gravel, and beneath of cavernous limestone-rock, containing subterraneous streams; but the southern face of the bog is open to a moory valley, about a quarter of a mile in breadth, which for nearly half a mile in length, takes a southern direction in (he lands of Lisanisky, and then turns at right angles to the west, and continues gradually widening for upwards of two miles. Throughout the centre of this valley flows a stream about twelve feet in breadth, which serves as a discharge for the waters from the bog and surrounding country, and finally joins the river Brusua, above the bridge of Ballycumber.

The bog of Kilmaleady, like all other deep and wet bogs, is composed, for the first eight or ten feet from the surface downward, of a reddish brown spongy mass, formed»of the still undecomposed fibres of the bog moss {sphagnum palustre) which by capillary attraction absorbs water in great quantity. Beneath this fibrous mass, the bog gradually becomes pulpy, till, at length, towards the bottom, it assumes the appearance, and, when examined, the consistence of a black mud, rather heavier than water.

The surface of the bog of Kilmaleady, was elevated upwards of 20 feet above the level of the valley, from which it rose at a steep angle; and its external face, owing to the uncommon dryness of the season, being much firmer than usual, the inhabitants of the vicinity were enabled to sink their turf holes, and cut turf at a depth of at least ten feet beneath the surface of the valley, and in fact, until they reached the blue clay which forms the substratum of the bog. Thus the faces of many of the turf banks reached the unusual height of 30 feet perpendicular; when at length, on the 19th day of June, the lower pulpy and muddy part of the bog, which possesses little cohesion, being unable to resist the great pressure of water from behind, gave way, and being ©nee set in motion, floated the upper

part of the bog, and continued to move with astonishing velocity along the valley to the southward, forcing before it not only the clumps of turf on the edge of the bog, but even patches of the moory meadows, to the depth of several feet, the grassy surface of which heaved and turned over almost like the waves of the ocean; so that in a very short space of time the whole valley, for the breadth of almost a quarter of a mile between the bog-edge and the base of the hill of Lisanisky, was covered with bog to a depth of from eight to ten feet, and appeared every where studded with green patches of moory meadow.

The hill of Lisanisky retarded the progress of the bog for some time; but at length it began to flow at right angles to its first course along the valley, where it turned to the west, and continued with unabated rapidity until it reached the bog road of Kil bride, (which runs directly across the valley, and is elevated five or six feet above it,) and choked up the bridge through which the waters of the stream pass- This barrier retarded the progress of the bog for five days: at the end of that time, the accumulation was such from the still moving bog and the waters of the stream, that it flowed over the road, and covered the valley to the south of it for about half a mile, flowing with varied velocity, till it was again stopped for a few hours (as I understand) by a second road across the valley leading from Clara to Woodfield: having also overcome this obstacle, it proceeded slowly westward, and if its progress had not been checked by the very judicious means that have been employed, the whole extent of the valuable meadows, which compose the valley where it expands to the westward, must long since have been covered. But when the flowing bog had passed over the road of Kilbride, and the consternation in thecountry became general, at the desire of the lords justices, Mr. Gregory employed Mr. Killaly, engineer of the directors general of inland navigation, to carry into execution any works that could be devised to arrest the progress of the bog. Mr. Killaly at once perceived that the only feasible remedy was to draw off the water that had accumulated; and to accomplish this end he employed a number of labourers to open the course of the stream where it was choaked up, and also the drains


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