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Under the auspices of national institutions for the
purposes of education, the literary body of a kingdom becomes more ample and extensive; and, as the number of those, who are addicted to liberal and enlightened pursuits increases, the love of honourable fame and the desire of intellectual preeminence lift up a nation from the debasement of mere animal and sensual existence, into a life productive of utility and abounding in virtue; they exalt a people in the dignity of thinking beings. In such a state public honours and public recompenses are decreed to the sages and the benefactors of the human race. The rough marble is hewn into shape, and laboured into form, and expresses the lineaments and the countenance of humanity; the canvass glows with living colours; and songs of praise are sounded forth in celebration of the deeds of worth; and all the deathless honours, which sculpture, poetry, painting, and music, can bestow, are heaped
upon the name and the memorial of all those, who have deserved well of their country and of mankind.
Thus there exists a reciprocity of assistance, and a bond of mutual attachment between the arts and sciences and li, berty. She protects and cherishes them, calls them from darkness into light, from annihilation into existence; watches over the weakness of their infancy, and guards them with maternal care and tenderness, 'till they arrive at the maturity of manhood : and, they, in return for all this kindness, attend constantly in her train, and decorate her altar with ornaments that never fade ; engrave upon her tablets memorials of af, fection and of applause, which shall remain to the last syllable of recorded time.
It has, also, been urged, that the arts and sciences are productive of luxury, and that luxury is pernicious to freedom. But they may exist in free governments without administering to luxury. It is true, that in countries, where private patronage alone exists, and, in consequence, taste is confined to a few ; where the means of public and of general instruction are denied, the mere gratification of personal vanity is, perhaps, almost the only incitement, which prompts the wealthy and the noble to encourage and to patronize the liberal arts. The patron barters for and buys the production of genius, and
feels no other pleasure from its contemplation, than knowing that it is in his exclusive possession. He values the paintings of Raffaello d' Urbino, and the sculpture of Michael Agnolo, only because they adorn his own apartments; and he receives delight from looking at the wondrous displays of human ability and of human invention, by which he is surrounded, because he fancies, that the possession of what most other men have not money enough to buy exalts him in the scale of superiority over his fellow-men.
It is this monopoly of their products, not the arts and sciences themselves, which constitute luxury. If national schools, for the purpose of improving the fine arts, were erected, they would not be incentives to luxury, but would diffuse a spirit of refinement, and a consequent amelioration of morals, and political decency, throughout the whole of their
people, by raising them up from their vegetative state of ignorance, their degradation of mere animal life, to the elevated height of mental exertion and of intellectual enjoyment. Private mansions might, then, be the abodes of neatness and of convenience; but public and national buildings should display magnificence and splendor, the sublimity of architecture, the decorations of painting, and the majestic simplicity of sculpture.
In the proudest times of Athenian greatness; when the people of Athens were victorious over all their enemies, both by sea and land; when a thousand talents were collected into the public treasury, to answer any unforeseen and pressing emergency; when magnificent temples were reared in honour of their Gods, and crowded with splendid monuments in celebration of their heroes, their greatest men could not be distinguished by their manner of living from their fellow-citizens. Their houses, their apparel, their equipage, their attendants were neither more pensive, nor more gorgeous than those of their neighbours. Neither Miltiades, nor Aristides, could be known by any external decoration, in the streets, from the meanest citizen of Athens.
(To be Continued.
MEN AND WOMEN:
A MORAL TALE; BY THE WANDERER.
(Continued from Vol. 2. No. 2. page 83.)
Sir George Gawky visits Edward-description of Gawky's person
his grief for the loss of Mary—he sings--the consequences of his singing-Edward visits Scotland-seat of General Wemys-KirkLargo-description of St. Andrews-Edward sees Mary's form rise from the bosom of the German main-poem to Mary in heaven
-Edward is in danger of being married to an old woman-Edward is taken up as a spy at Dundeeencounter between Edward and a widow-description of the scenery between Dundee and Perth.
CHILE Edward still held Mary's last dying letter in
his hand, and was wetting it with the tears of agony, he heard a great scuffle in the passage, and his servant's voice crying out—You cannot see my master, Sir, 'till I have announced your name ;-in answer to which a most coarse, barbarous, dissonant voice growled out-My name is Sir George Gawky, Baronet ; your master do know I well enough. Saying which, in he rushed and presented to Edward his amiable person ; he was in his twenty second year, very stoutly made, but loosely and awkwardly put together; he stooped forward so much, that his shoulders rose nearly to a level with his head ; his red hair hung dangling down in a long shining tail upon
his back, his head was small and narrow, his forehead low and scanty ; his eyes were little, and resembled those of a pig; his nose was laden with a large lump of flesh on the tip, and looked for all the world like a saddle of mutton.
This amiable creature was Sir George Gawky; his father had been originally a shoe-black, and afterwards an attorney,
and had acted as agent and steward for the Earl of L in whose service he had amassed a large fortune, with part of which he had bought a baronetcy for his son George.
“ Oh Lord, oh Lord! what shall I do, what shall I do?”cried Gawky, as he ran roaring and bellowing round the room, and scratching his head, and stamping violently with his feet, while the tears ran down his ugly face ;-what shall I do, what shall I do? Oh Lord, oh Lord !Edward seeing Gawky in deep mourning, and out of powder, imagined, that he was lamenting the loss of his father, who had been dead about a week, and, accordingly began to administer comfort to him, by saying, that his father was of a good old' age, and had provided for his family before he died, and much other common place cant and stuff of that kind, which, he thought, was calculated for the meridian of the young baronet's brain, when Gawky interrupted him by saying-—Good now, I beant a crying for my vather's death, that's what I beant. I never cryed about that all, at no time; I only put on mourning, and attended his funeral yesterday, because it is the custom, and people would call I hard-hearted if I did'nt, good now; why my vather have left I all his property, both in land and in the vunds, and why should I cry because he be dead ? no no, I beant a crying for my vather, good now, but I be a crying for the loss of the vinest gurl that ever was; she died the day after my vather died, oh Lord! oh Lord! what shall I do, what shall I do? I be in such an agony, nothing can be like it; only veel what a sweat my forehead be in, Ned; only veel how wet it be!
Edward.—There is no occasion for that, Gawky, I will take
your word for being in a perspiration, just as well without feeling your forehead, as with it; but, pray, who was this marvellous girl, that had the power to entrap the affections of the all-accomplished Sir George Gawky Baronet; and whose death has so grievously affected you?--Gawky-why, it was Mary Courtnay, good now ;-Edward—Heavens and earth! Mary! what! Mary Courtnay! was you in love with Mary Courtnay ?—Gawky—Yes, that's what I was, good now ; why you didn't know her, did you ?-Edward-Yes. Gawky–And was she not a most monstrous vine gurl
Edward-Yes.-Gawky_Very well then, and so I was in love with her, and wanted to marry her; for she had a monstrous great fortune besides her beauty; and her fortune and mine put together would have made I the richest man in all the country.-Edward-Did Miss Courtnay ever return your affection ?-Gawky_Yes she did, good now—Edward—In what way?-Gawky_Why, I wrote her a letter about two months
ago, and told her as how my name was Sir George Gawky Baronet, and as how I expected that my vather would soon die, and leave I a good estate ; that I had seen her once at a County Ball, and was willing to marry her, and settle half her own fortune upon her, and would wait upon her at her guardian's, as soon as ever she wished.
Edward—And what answer did the young lady return to your letter?—Gawky—Why she did'nt return no answer at all, good now; but her guardian sent me my own letter again, with these words written at the bottom of it—Sir, my ward never listens to such awkward impertinence as fills that letter, which I now return to you ; if you presume to come to my house, I shall order my, servants to show you the door.Well, says I, this be all a fetch of Mary's, and she do want I to go down and see her as fast as possible ; so I took my horse and down I rode to her guardian's ; but as soon as ever I got there, and told the porter that my name was Gawky, the fellow grinned in my face, laid hold of me by the collar, dragged me into the stable-yard, and nearly drowned I by pumping water upon I ; and then, sent I away in that there miserable nasty pickle; howsomdiver, I do mean to bring an action of assault and battery against the rascal for it, that's what I do ; and my
vather would have conducted the suit his own self, and I should have saved the expence of employing an attorney, but only vather died too soon. But, as sure as you live, my not going to see Mary, killed her; for she, soon after, was taken very ill, and died in a galloping consumption for love of I. Oh Lord, oh Lord! what shall I do, what shall I do? She surely died for love of I.
No doubt-replied Edward, putting Mary's letter into his pocket, lest the baronet should perceive her name, and trouble him with coarse questions, as to his acquaintance with that lovely martyr,--no doubt; but you must not give way too