-must, by its lifeless forms, kill and mortify the action of the intellect. If this be true, it becomes every student to keep watch upon himself, that he does not, upon any light temptation, allow himself an overbalance of study in this direction; for the temptations to such an excess, which in our days are more powerful than formerly, are at all times too powerful. Of all the weapons in the armory of the scholar, none is so showy or so captivating to commonplace minds as skill in languages. Vanity is, therefore, one cause of the undue application to languages. A second is the national fashion. What nation but ourselves ever made the language of its eternal enemy an essential part of even a decent education? What should we think of Roman policy if, during the second Punic War, the Carthaginian language had been taught, as a matter of course, to the children of every Roman citizen? But a third cause, which, I believe, has more efficacy than either of the former, is mere levity, the simple fact of being unballasted by any sufficient weight of plan or settled purpose to present a counterpoise to the slightest momentum this way or that, arising from any impulse of accident or personal caprice. When there is no resistance, a breath of air will be sufficient to determine the motion. I remember once, that, happening to spend an autumn in Ilfracombe, on the west coast of Devonshire, I found all the young ladies whom I knew busily employed in the study of marine botany. On the opposite shore of the channel, in all the South Welsh ports of Tenby, etc., they were no less busy upon conchology. In neither case, from any previous love of the science, but simply availing themselves of their local advantages.

...

In a celebrated satire (The Pursuits of Literature), much read in my youth, and which I myself read about twenty-five years ago, I remember one counsel there addressed to young men, but, in fact, of universal application. "I call upon them," said the author, "to dare to be ignorant of many things:" a wise counsel, and justly expressed; for it requires much courage to forsake popular paths of knowledge, merely upon a conviction that they are not favorable to the ultimate ends of knowledge. In you, however, that sort of courage may be presumed; but how will you "dare to be ignorant" of many things in opposition to the cravings of your own mind? Simply thus: destroy these false cravings by introducing a healthier state of the organ. A good scheme of study will soon show itself to be such by this one test-that it will exclude as powerfully as it will appropriate; it will be a system of repulsion no less than of attraction; once thoroughly possessed and occupied by the deep and genial pleasures of one truly intellectual pursuit, you will be easy and indifferent to all others that had previously teased you with transient excitement. . . . If your intentions, as I suppose, lean most to literature, let me establish one necessary distinction, because the word literature is used in two senses; the philosophical, in which it is the direct and adequate antithesis of books of knowledge, and the popular, in which it is a mere term of convenience for expressing inclusively the total books in a language. In the former sense, it will exclude all books in which the matter is paramount to the manner or form, in which literature is a fine art. The true antithesis of literature to books of knowledge (books written to instruct) is power. Henceforth I should use the antitheses power and knowledge as the most philosophical expression for literature (that is, literae humaniores), and anti-literature (that is, literae didacticae), [meaning by literature of power, books written not simply to amuse or instruct, but, like Paradise Lost or King Lear, to call forth the deepest emotions, and inspire new conceptions of ideal beauty and gran. deur].

CLASSICAL LANGUAGES.

Now, then, prepared with this distinction, let us inquire whether-weighing the difficulties against the benefits-there is an overbalance of motive for you, with your purposes, to study what are inaccurately termed the "classical" languages. And, first, with respect to Greek, we have often had the question debated, and, in our own days, solemn challenges thrown out and solemn adjudications given on the question, whether any benefit corresponding to the time and the labor can be derived from the study of the ancient classics. Hitherto, however, the question could not be rightly shaped; for, as no man chose to plead “amusement as a sufficient motive for so great an undertaking, it was always debated with a single reference to the knowledge involved in those literatures. But this is a ground wholly untenable. For, let the knowledge be what it might, all knowledge is translatable, and translatable without one atom of loss. If this were all, therefore, common sense would prescribe that faithful translations should be executed of all the classics, and all men in future depend upon these vicarious labors. With respect to the Greek, this would soon be accomplished; for what is the knowledge which lurks in that language? All knowledge may be commodiously distributed into science and erudition; of the latter (antiquities, geography, philology, theology, etc.), there is a very considerable body; of the former, but little, namely, the mathematical and musical works,-and the medical works-what else? Nothing that can deserve the name of science, except the single organon of Aristotle. With Greek medicine, suppose that you have no concern. As to mathematics, a man must be an idiot if he were to study Greek for the sake of Archimedes, Apollonius, or Diophantus. In Latin or in French you may find them all regularly translated, and parts of them embodied in the works of English mathematicians. Besides, if it were otherwise, where the notions and all the relations are so few, elementary, and determinate, and the vocabulary, therefore, so scanty, as in mathematics, it could not be necessary to learn Greek, even if you were disposed to read them. It is not for knowledge that Greek is worth learning, but for power. Here arises the question-Of what value is this power? that is, how is the Grecian literature to be rated in relation to other literatures? . . . The question is limited wholly, as you see, to the value of the literature in the proper sense of that word. Now, it is my private theory, to which you will allow what degree of weight you please, that the antique or pagan literature is a polar antagonist to the modern or Christian literature; that each is an evolution from a distinct principle, having nothing in common but what is necessarily common to all modes of thought, namely, good sense and logic; and that they are to be criticised from different stations and points of view. . . .

So much for the Greek. Now, as to the Latin, the case is wholly reversed. Here the literature is of far less value; and, on the whole, with your views, it might be doubted whether it would recompense your pains. But the antiliterature (as, for want of a strict antithesis, I must call it) is inestimable,

A late writer has announced it as a matter of discovery, that the term "classics" is applicable also to the modern languages. But, surely, this was never doubted by any man who considered the meaning and origin of the term. It is drawn, as the reader must be reminded, from the political economy of Rome. Such a man was rated as to his income in the third class, such another in the fourth, and so on; but he who was in the highest, was said emphatically to be of the class, "classicus," a class-man, without adding the number, as in that case superfluous. Hence, by an obvious analogy, the best authors were rated as classici, or men of the highest class; just as, in English, we say, "men of rank," absolutely, for men who are in the highest ranks of the state. The particular error by which this mere formal term of relation was materiated (if I may so say) in one of its accidents (namely, the application to Greek and Roman writers), is one of the commoue-t and most natural.

Latin having been the universal language of Christendom for so long a period. The Latin works since the restoration of letters are alone of immense value for knowledge of every kind; much science, inexhaustible erudition; and, to this day, in Germany, and elsewhere on the Continent, the best part of the latter is communicated in Latin. Now, though all knowledge is (which power is not) adequately communicable by translation, yet as there is no hope that the immense bibliotheca of Latin accumulated in the last three centuries ever will be translated, you cannot possibly dispense with this language. . . .

MODERN LANGUAGES.

Reserving to my conclusion anything I have to say upon these languages, as depositories of literature properly so called, I shall first speak of them as depositories of knowledge. Among the four great races of men in Europe, namely, 1. The Celtic, occupying a few of the western extremities of Europe; 2. The Teutonic, occupying the northern and midland parts; 3. The Latin (blended with Teutonic tribes), occupying the south; and, 4. The Sclavonic, occupying the east, it is evident that of the first and the-last it is unnecessary to say anything in this place, because their pretensions to literature do not extend to our present sense of the word. No Celt even, however extravagant, pretends to the possession of a body of Celtic philosophy and Celtic science of independent growth. The Celtic and Sclavonic languages, therefore, dismissed, our business at present is with those of the Latin and the Teutonic families. Now, three of the Latin family, namely, the Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese, are at once excluded for the purpose before us: because it is notorious that, from political and religious causes, these three nations have but feebly participated in the general scientific and philosophic labors of the age. Italy, indeed, has cultivated natural philosophy with an exclusive zcal; a direction probably impressed upon the national mind by patriotic reverence for her great names in that department. But, merely for the sake of such knowledge (supposing no other motive), it would be idle to pay the price of learning a language,—all the current contributions to science being regularly gathered into the general garner of Europe by the scientific journals, both at home and abroad. Of the Latin languages, therefore, which are wholly the languages of Catholic nations, but one-that is, the French-can present any sufficient attractions to a student in search of general knowledge. Of the Teutonic literatures, on the other hand, which are the adequate representatives of the Protestant intellectual interest in Europe (no Catholic nations speaking a Teutonic language except the southern states of Germany and part of the Netherlands), all give way at once to the paramount pretensions of the English and the German. I do not say this with the levity of ignorance, as if presuming, as a matter of course, that in a small territory, such as Denmark, e. g., the literature must, of necessity, bear a value proportioned to its political tank. On the contrary, I have some acquaintance with the Danish literature; and though, in the proper sense of the word literature as a body of creative art, I cannot esteem it highly, yet, as a depository of knowledge in one particular direction,-namely, the direction of historical and antiquarian research, it has, undoubtedly, high claims upon the student's attention. .. Waiving all mere presumptive arguments, the bare amount of books annually published in the several countries of Europe puts the matter out of all doubt, that the great commerce of thought and knowledge in the civilized world is, at this day, conducted in three languages-the English, the German, and the French. You, therefore, having the good fortune to be an Englishman, are to make your choice between the two last; and, this being so, I conceive that there is no room for hesitation,-the "detur pulchriori" being,

in this case (that is, remember, with an exclusive reference to knowledge), a direction easily followed.

Dr. Johnson was accustomed to say of the French literature, as the kindest thing he had to say about it, that he valued it chiefly for this reason: that it had a book upon every subject. How far this might be a reasonable opinion fifty years ago, and understood, as Dr. Johnson must have meant it, of the French literature as compared with the English of the same period, I will not pretend to say. It has certainly ceased to be true, even under these restrictions, and is in flagrant opposition to the truth if extended to the French in its relation to the German. Undoubtedly, the French literature holds out to the student some peculiar advantages, as what literature does not ?-some, even, which we should not have anticipated; for, though we justly value ourselves, as a nation, upon our classical education, yet no literature is poorer than the English in the learning of classical antiquities,-our Bentleys, even, and our Porзons, having thrown all their learning into the channel of philology; whilst a single volume of the Memoirs of the French Academy of Inscriptions contains more useful antiquarian research than a whole English library. In digests of history, again, the French language is richer than ours, and in their dictionaries of miscellaneous knowledge (not in their encyclopedias). But all these are advantages of the French only in relation to the English, and not to the German literature, which, for vast compass, variety, and extent, far exceeds all others as a depository for the current accumulations of knowledge. The mere number of books published annually in Germany, compared with the annual product of France and England, is alone a satisfactory evidence of this assertion. With relation to France, it is a second argument in its favor that the intellectual activity of Germany is not intensely accumulated in one great capital, as it is in Paris; but, whilst it is here and there converged intensely enough for all useful purposes (as at Berlin, Königsberg, Leipsic, Dresden, Vienna, Munich, etc.), it is also healthily diffused over the whole territory. There is not a sixth-rate town in Protestant Germany which does not annually contribute its quota of books: intellectual culture has manured the whole soil; not a district but it has penetrated, "like Spring,

Which leaves no corner of the land untouched."

A third advantage on the side of Germany (an advantage for this purpose), is its division into a great number of independent states. From this circumstance it derives the benefit of an internal rivalship amongst its several members, over and above that general external rivalship which it maintains with other nations. An advantage of the same kind we enjoy in England. The British nation is fortunately split into three great divisions, and thus a national feeling of emulation and contest is excited,-slight, indeed, or none at all, on the part of the English (not from any merit, but from mere decay of patriotic feeling), stronger on the part of the Irish, and sometimes illiberally and odiously strong on the part of the Scotch (especially as you descend below the rank of gentlemen). But, disgusting as it sometimes is in its expression, this nationality is of great service to our efforts in all directions. A triple power is gained for internal excitement of the national energies; whilst, in regard to any external enemy, or any external rival, the three nations act with the unity of a single force. But the most conspicuous advantage of the German literature is its great originality and boldness of speculation, and the character of masculine austerity and precision impressed upon their scientific labors by the philosophy of Leibnitz and Wolff heretofore, and by the severer philosophy of modern days.

LETTER FROM THOMAS CARLYLE TO A STUDENT, ASKING ADVICE AS TO

READING AND A PROFESSION.

DEAR SIR:-Some time ago your letter was delivered to me; I take literally the first half-hour I have had since to write you a word of answer. It would give me true satisfaction could any advice of mine contribute to forward you in your honorable course of selfimprovement, but a long experience has taught me that advice can profit but little; that there is a good reason why advice is so seldom followed; this reason, namely, that it so seldom, and can almost never be, rightly given. No man knows the state of another; it is always to some more or less imaginary man that the wisest and most honest adviser is speaking.

"Our

As to the books which you-whom I know so little of-should read, there is hardly any thing definite that can be said. For one thing, you may be strenuously advised to keep reading. Any good book, any book that is wiser than yourself, will teach you something-a great many things, indirectly and directly, if your mind be open to learn. This old counsel of Johnson's is also good, and universally applicable: "Read the book you do honestly feel a wish and curiosity to read." The very wish and curiosity indicates that you, then and there, are the person likely to get good of it. wishes are presentiments of our capabilities;" that is a noble saying, of deep encouragement to our wishes and efforts in regard to reading, as to other things. Among all the objects that look wonderful or beautiful to you, follow with fresh hope that one which looks wonderfulest, beautifulest. You may gradually find by various trials (which trials see that you make honest, manful ones, not silly, short, fitful ones,) what is for the wonderfulest, beautifulestwhat is your true element and province, and be able to profit by that. True desire, the monition of nature, is much to be attended to. But here also, you are to discriminate carefully between true desire and false. The medical men tell us that we should eat what we truly have an appetite for; but what we only falsely have an appetite for we should resolutely avoid. It is very true: and flimsy desultory readers, who fly from foolish book to foolish book, and get good of none, and mischief of all—are not those as foolish, unhealthy eaters, who mistake their superficial false desire after spiceries and confectioneries for their real appetite, of which even they are not destitute, though it lies far deeper, far quieter, after solid nutritive food? With these illustrations I will recommend Johnson's advice to you. Another thing, and only one other I will say. All books are