that men have thought meanly of their nature, and that the dignity of human nature, a theme that should shake our pulpits as with thunder, that should be sounded out with a voice as if to wake the dead, has been little better that a phrase of sickening sentiment, and a theme of puerile declama

tion.

We talk about the badness of human nature; but do any of us consider what a poor chance it has had? We have starved it, and dwarfed it; and, at length, we end the series of wrongs, by scorning it. Look abroad upon the face of society, and especially in the old world, and say, what chance is there, but that which the furnace gives to the ore, that amidst the feverish struggles of ambition, the graspings of covetousness, the obstinate hold of the selfish upon all they have, the proud exclusiveness of the higher classes, the jealousies of the lower, the toils of the poor, and the indulgences of the voluptuous-what chance there is, that any noble and manly virtues will grow up to their just height. What chance has there been for the mass of men in those countries, to be intelligent? And if not intelligent, what chance have they had of being free, virtuous, and happy? What chance is there, that wisdom will spring from the beaten paths of cruel and mechanical toil, from the dust and din of oppressive and unrelieved labor, or from gewgaw distinctions and titles; in one word, from that rubbish of superannuated folly in every form, that is so plentifully mingled with almost all the social and political institutions in the world? Do the spade and the plough teach knowledge? Do spinning-jennies discourse wisdom? Are stars and garters Masonic emblems? These questions will not be misconstrued, we presume, into a proposal rashly to abolish titles; much less to abolish toils. Nevertheless, we do conceive that this part of the system of life, is about as badly arranged as it can be, for the real improvement of men. It is work, work, work, on the one hand, and on the other a no less fatal leisure and independence. On the one hand, it is dire and reckless poverty; and on the other, a dissolute and reckless superfluity. If something of all this mighty exertion, and enterprise, and labor, and expenditure, which make up the active world, could be converted to the cause of human improvement; if all the energies of human nature and life could be combined, and devoted to this end; if we could see individual men putting forth their powers to the utmost effort and

trial, keeping a sleepless watch over themselves, pressing forward every day, and every day making new advances, regarding every attainment as a step, from which to reach higher and farther; if we could see men, stepping forth on the theatre of this world with the noble demeanor and countenance that would become beings so exalted, we should then begin to perceive what men might be, what they never have been. We should then be able boldly to point to such an example, to redeem the long abiding reproach of human

nature.

STATE OF SOCIETY.

It is a sad reflection, but we must dwell upon it. We must say, and will say, without hesitation, that we are dissatisfied, greatly, almost wholly with any state of society, that ever yet has existed, as a field for human improvement. When we look over the world, and the world's history, there is nothing that is so fitted to strike and pain the mind, as the extreme contrast between what the world was evidently made to be, and what it is. Even from the simple external aspects of things, we may gather this conclusion. It is a fair creation, and was fitted for noble influences and uses. The glorious canopy of the heavens was not designed to be spread over an ignoble race. And every thing beneath, the elements, waters, and groves, hills and vallies, are moulded into forms of enrapturing beauty, that have power, one might imagine, to impart their own beauty to the minds that dwell among them. And the human soul is capable of being touched to these finer issues. And if, knowing all this, a stranger from some distant world, should alight upon our planet-if a stranger to the actual state of things, but knowing what it might be, should alight amidst the fair and rich scenes of our summer landscapes, he would expect the inhabitants of such a world to sweep by him, with the majestic step and mien of angels with their robes of light, and their voices 'discoursing music,'-"These,' he would say, 'are the abodes of innocence. Here dwell inviolate truth and faith, and divine simplicity, and blessed friendship. Brethren dwell here, and this fair earth is not rent with violence, nor watered with tears, nor stained with blood, nor does it bear the footsteps of the proud and scornful, nor does it echo to the complaints of the neglected

or miserable.' Alas! how different is the reality! How lamentable is the story of human fortunes, all over the world! Oh! it is wonderful, that a set of beings endowed with reason, endowed with sense, to say nothing of the moral soul, should have played the fool and the maniac as men have done. Look at things upon a great scale, or at things upon a small scale, and we find it every where the same. Look at war, that stupendous insanity. Look at the single history of that being, who has gone to his account with the blood of two millions of men staining his imperial robe, and the groans of millions unnumbered, to usher him to his audit—and yet listen to the canonizing shout of half the world, as the story of his wonderful and awful career is told, and compute, if you can, the immensity of the guilt on the one hand, and the folly on the other. Look, again, at the vast regions of groaning servitude; and then, at the more numerous, and more miserable slaves of vice, that are crowding the ten thousand avenues of death and hell, in the villages and cities of the world. Then, descend into the retreats of private and domestic life, and see how many untold miseries of evil passion are there; and, at last, penetrate into the recesses of the human heart, and see it, restless, disordered, and discontented, suffering wounds without cause, and afflictions without reason, miserable when it might be happy, evil, when to be good is its interest as much as its duty.

Add to all this, those delusions of opinion, those mistakes of abused human nature, those lies of the perverted heart, by which this mighty system of national, social, and individual sin and folly is supported, and it seems almost as if there was neither light nor hope. There is darkness upon the nations, and it is almost the darkness of despair; darkness in their institutions, their pursuits, their plans of enjoyment, their very ideas of happiness. After six thousand years of teaching, men have not learned to live, either as physical, or as intellectual, or as moral beings. The science of living well and happily, is the science least of all understood, or even studied. This reckless waste of life, and of all that is good in life, which we see every where; this universal seeking of happiness abroad, when the springs of it are within us; this blinding and bigoted folly of accounting sin a pleasure, and duty a task, tedious and irksome in the performance; and then these bewildering voices of ambition, avarice, and pleasure, which fill the world with strife and uproar; this press

and throng of selfish passions and worldly competitions; these contests for distinction, these jealousies of fashion, wit, and beauty, these bitter sighings of discontent-alas! what power, what mighty power is ever to correct these evils?

If we should answer, that we do not know, we should be false to our own principles. We do hope in human nature after all its mistakes. We do trust in the reason of man that it will yet be schooled to wisdom. We do confide in his conscience, that it will yet gather strength to resist temptation. We believe, that all experience is not to be lost upon a reasoning, inquiring, and suffering world. We believe in God, and are firmly persuaded, that his designs are better for us, than human life has yet unfolded. Something can, ought, and must be done. These are our watch words. We know that they will carry to many, a sound of enthusiasm, as well as of innovation. But the most captious and cold-blooded misanthropist might well take side with us in this matter, for nobody complains so much of the state of the world as he does. It is not he, that takes the world to be well enough as it is; and he ought to have patience, at least, if other men try to make it better and wiser. Or, if it will greatly relieve him, let him criticise. It is not that sound, that will stop the movement of the world. He may say, with the significant air of superior wisdom, that the movement of the world must be slow; but is that a good reason why no effort at all should be made for its advancement? When we say that something can be done, we do not say that it can be done in a moment.

But something can be done. We repeat; and let it be remembered, too, that every man can do something. Let each one begin with himself; let him make himelf wiser and better. That is the first, and great work. But he should not stop with that. 'Let every man mind not his own things only, but also the things of another.' Let every man consider with himself, what he can do for that worthiest object of life, the improvement of his kind. Let those who are thus minded, go single-handed, and meet the evils of poverty and ignorance, in the thronged paths and crowded by-ways of our cities. Let others, if it please them, combine in their exertions to do good. Let the ingenious devise methods of human improvement, and the judicious correct them. Let him, whose heart can indite a good matter, and him who has the pen of a ready writer, bring his offering of earnest thoughts and words, to the great cause. Let the active give range to

their activity, wide as the regions of ignorance, and vice, and misery. Let some devote themselves to the suppression of intemperance. Let others search our prisons, and listen to the groans or the execrations that long have issued from them, unheard and unpitied. Let others still, build up the waste places of Zion, or go forth and erect altars to the true God, amidst the fanes of idolatry. Let the learned contribute their knowledge to this great work, the lofty their influence, the wise their legislation, the powerful their authority. Let the tone of education, and morality, and religion, be raised. Let the eloquent give their exhortation, and the rich of their wealth, and the faithful their endeavors, and the good their prayers, to the one great, united, universal effort, to make the world better and happier. Something of all this, we thank God, is beginning to be done; and we trust that what has been accomplished is only a pledge for what is yet to be undertaken.

DIFFUSION OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE.

IN the wide field of exertion, we are led at present, to direct our attention to a single point; and we are not sure, that it is not the central and most prominent point of all. We mean, the diffusion-of useful knowledge; and we mean by useful knowledge, all that information of every kind which may contribute to the welfare and happiness of human society. Let us make man intelligent. Let us try a new experiment for his improvement, and let us put it on the basis of his understanding. This is the only foundation on which to rear for him any exalted character or permanent happiness. His very virtues and affections are valueless without intelligence. And true devotion, the right contemplation of God, is the noblest act of reason, as well as the noblest exercise of feeling. And we aver, that experiment we propose, never yet has been tried on a large scale. Rome had her gifted and eloquent men, but her citizens were not intelligent. The Athenians were an acute people, but their acuteness appeared chiefly in wit and trifling. And the modern civilized world has not pretended to show any large masses of intelligent population, except in Scotland and in this country. But we are afraid that the intelligence of our own people is much overrated. We cannot call him an intelligent man, who is