nity. But books such as we refer to ought to be pen. We felt, in the first place, that foresight, sold by many others besides ordinary booksellers. punctuality, and other homely and prudential virWhy should it be that tea, tobacco, and even less tues, were necessary even for the purpose of enapprovable articles demanded by the people, should abling us to possess our minds in peace-that be purchasable in the smallest quantities in every peace without which no studious life can be convillage in the empire, and not that literature which ducted to any good results. And it was but a has become, in one form or another, almost as corollary from that view, that we should have a much a necessary of life as any? Surely, in many publishing system under our own command, as by of the little establishments where the needs and no other means could the requisite unity of movecravings of the frail body are supplied, those of ment and procedure have been attained. On this the immortal spirit might also be gratified; and point we would observe incidentally, that we trust that without necessarily diminishing the trade of yet to make out a problem of no small consequence the ordinary booksellers? One fact will illustrate to men of letters-that is to say, we trust to esthis. In a little village, where at one time none tablish, that to employ a printing and bookselling of our publications were sold, a philanthropic system to work out his purposes, is a much more gentleman induced a female dealer in small wares eligible position for the literary laborer, than to to commence selling the Tracts.' She quickly come with all his powers of thought, and the asfound regular customers for forty copies. Here pirations attending them, and subordinate these to were forty copies sold where formerly the work a man of trade. We think it will be found that was unheard of; and we cannot doubt that thou- the first position, which is ours, is that by far sands of places are in the like predicament. There the best fitted to secure independence of action, must certainly be some improvement in the book- and even that elevation of mind which is supposed selling system of the country; we must have this to rest apart from trade, as well as exemption from kind of wares presented in many quarters where those degrading cares which are so hostile to the it formerly was unthought of, ere we can say that exercise of the higher faculties, and have been the the system of cheap publication is complete, or has shipwreck of so many votaries of letters. We "gathered all its fame." A benevolent friend further felt that the tasks assumed by us were of has suggested that persons verging upon pauperism a very different character from what their extermight often help themselves in some degree to anal features indicated to the shallower class of livelihood, if individuals taking a kindly interest in minds. Even to speak of materialities alone, the them were to furnish them with a first stock of aggregate vastness of a cheap publication was calsuch wares. We have had the plan tried in seve- culated to impress a strong sense of the importance ral instances, and have found it effectual.* Per- of such a work. What came before the eyes of haps by such means, in addition to all others, the individuals as a single sheet at an infinitesimal extreme limits of the diffusibility of popular litera- price, presented itself to our sense in colossal piles ture might in time be reached. of paper and print, and large commercial transactions. At the fountain-head, its respectability, in the common sense of the word, could not be matter of doubt, whatever it might in the remote rills of diffusion. But, remarking the great appetency of the middle and humbler classes for the reading of such works, it was impossible not to advance to far higher considerations, and see, in the establishment of such a miscellany as the Journal, the attainment of a predicatorial position hardly paralleled in the country. It fully appeared that such a work, if conducted in a right spirit, might enable its editors weekly to address an audience of unexampled numbers. We felt that by this means a vast amount of unequivocal good might be effected amongst the humbler classes in particular. Coming before them with no stamp of authority to raise prejudice, but as the undoubted friend of all, it could convey counsel and instruction where more august missionaries might fail. Gaining the heart of the poor man, always inclined to jealousy, it might, by dint of its absolute transparent wellmeaning, force reproofs and maxims upon him which he would take from no other hand. By such a work the young might be, even in the receipt of amusement, actuated to industrious and honorable courses. Everywhere, by presenting entertainment of a pure nature, and of superior attractiveness, that which was reprehensible might be superseded. Nor might it be impossible, even in so small a work, to present papers of an original kind in the departments of fancy and humor, as well as of observation and reflection, such as might be expected to cultivate the higher powers of the popular intellect.

When this point is attained, and great effects begin to become apparent to those who watch the signs of nations, it is not unlikely that the humble services of the individuals now addressing the public will be remembered and inquired into. It will perhaps be recollected that Chambers' Journal was the first periodical work which aimed at giving respectable literature at a price which made it accessible to every class of persons really desirous of reading, and that in that and several other publications, without the slightest extraneous support, its editors arrived at and maintained for several years an extraordinary degree of success. May it not then be asked, what was the cause of this success? To what are we to attribute the existence of that vast ten-machine printing-house? Will it be worth while to listen for a moment to the impressions which were entertained on that subject by ourselves? Presuming that there may be some curiosity on such a point, we will here mention that we attribute it not to any peculiar literary talent; we attribute it not to any extraordinary intellectual gifts; neither do we think fortune had anything whatever to do with it. It arose solely from the view we took of the duties resting upon those who make a profession of the

*A mendicant, applying for alms at our office in Glasgow, was furnished with two copies of a tract, that he might endeavor to sell them in the streets, and thus make money by a more legitimate mode. He disposed of them in ten minutes, and came back with the money to purchase more. Having sold these also, he returned for a new supply, and, in short, his transactions in four hours reached six shillings, leaving himself a clear gain of one and sixpence. He was to have come back to renew his efforts next morning; but, unfortunately, from whatever cause, he never reappeared.

While, then, many superficial persons scoffed at the course we had entered upon, we saw in it

him.

the means of a large usefulness, and gave our- The son soon became interested in the kind selves to it with cordial good-will. Determining missionary, and often visited his cabin, giving as first upon a few leading principles-particularly his reason, "you are so amiable, I cannot keep that political and theological controversy should away from you." Two or three weeks after, he never receive a moment's attention; animated by requested to know more of "the great Lord of sincere and earnest wishes to promote whatever heaven," of whom Saabye had spoken. His rewas clearly calculated to be beneficial to our fellow-quest was cheerfully granted. Soon it appeared creatures in the mass; despising all trivial and that himself, and all his relations were desirous of petty objects, and aiming ever to confer a dignity instruction, and, ere long, the son requested bapupon our own pursuits-we advanced in our tism. To this request the missionary answered, course, and persevered in it year after year; never "Kunnuk, you know God: you know that he is once doubting that the issue would justify and il-good, that he loves you, and desires to make you lustrate our first resolutions. The result, we may happy; but he desires also that you shall obey surely say, is to some extent determined, and that in a manner favorable to the soundness of our views; for how otherwise could it be that (to look no higher for proof) there is at this time no literary system in the country which approaches ours in magnitude? How else should it be that, while all other literary operations are conducted with more or less jarring between associated interests, and while most have to resort to extraneous expedients for success, we scatter the matter of hundreds of thousands of volumes annually over the land, without experiencing the slightest disturb-point, the poor awakened heathen promising to ance from sordid details, or ever having to look a moment beyond the intrinsic value of the article itself for a means of arresting public attention.

We would, in conclusion, express our humble trust that the ordinary readers of the Journal can be under no risk of misunderstanding the nature of these remarks. We have spoken in the language of earnestness and of truth, on a subject on which we are conscious of entertaining other besides feelings of self-love, and where public interests are, we think, as much concerned as our own. This kind of language usually meets with sympathy, and we humbly hope that on the present occasion there will be no exception from the rule.

ONLY ONE MURDER.

[WE find the following in the "Christian Witness," but do not know from what work it is taken. Let us all, while we see how clearly the poor Greenlander was wrong in wishing to indulge himself only this once, look at our own hearts, which are as disobedient, though our minds are more enlightened.]

Kunnuk answered, "I love him, I will obey him."

66

"His command is, 'Thou shalt not murder.'" The poor Greenlander was much affected and silent. "I know," said the missionary, 'why you have come here with your relations; but this you must not do, if you wish to become a believer." Agitated, he answered, "but he murdered my father."

For a long time the missionary pressed this

kill only one." But this was not enough. "Thou shalt do no murder," Saabye insisted was the command of the great Lord of heaven. He exhorted him to leave the murderer in the hand of God to be punished in another world; but this was waiting too long for revenge. The missionary refused him baptism, without obedience to the command. He retired to consult his friends. They urged him to revenge.

Saabye visited him, and without referring to the subject, read those portions of scripture and hymns teaching a quiet and forgiving temper. Some days after, Kunnuk came again to the cabin of the Saabye. "I will," said he, "and I will not; I hear and I do not hear. I never felt so before; I will forgive him, and I will not forgive him. The missionary told him, when he would forgive, then his better spirit spoke; when he would not forgive, then his unconverted heart spoke." He then repeated to him the latter part derers. of the life of Jesus, and his prayer for his murA tear stood in his eye. "But he was better than me," said Kunnuk. "But God will give us strength," Saabye answered. He then read the martyrdom of Stephen, and his dying prayer for his enemies. Kunnuk dried his eyes and said, "The wicked men! He is happy; he It has ever been a fixed law in Greenland, that is certainly with God in heaven. My heart is so murder, and particularly the murder of a father, moved, but give me a little time; when I have must be avenged. About twenty years before the brought the other heart to silence, I will come arrival of Saabye, a father had been murdered in again.' He soon returned with a joyful countethe presence of his son, a lad of thirteen, in a nance, saying, "Now I am happy; I hate no most atrocious manner. The boy was not able more; I have forgiven; my wicked heart shall be then to avenge the crime, but the murderer was silent." He and his wife, having made a clear nor forgotten. He left that part of the country, profession of faith in Christ, were baptized and and kept the flame burning in his bosom twenty- received into the church. Soon after, he sent the five years, no suitable opportunity offering for re- following note to the murderer of his father: "I venge, as the man was high in influence, and am now a believer, and you have nothing to fear," many near to defend him. At length his plan and invited him to his house. The man came, was laid, and with some of his relations to assist and invited Kunnuk, in turn, to visit him. Conhim, he returned to the province of the murderer, trary to the advice of his friends, Kunnuk went, who lived near the house of the Saabye; there and as he was returning home, he found a hole had being no house unoccupied, where they might re- been cut in his boat in order that he might be main, but one owned by Saabye, they requested drowned. Kunnuk stepped out of the water, sayit, and it was granted, without any remark, al-ing, "He is still afraid, though I will not harm though he knew the object of their coming.

him!"

LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.-No. 49.-19 APRIL, 1845.

7. POETRY.-The Poet before and after Death-The Golden Ringlet, 105-To Song of Seventy, 114-The United States, 134-Church Bells in the Desert-We are growing old, 152.

From Fraser's Magazine.

BUNYAN AND BUNHILL FIELDS.

little of his Life of Nelson; nor is his a solitary case of an author differing in his estimate of the value of his own writings from the standard measure of public opinion. The Nelson is a delightful narrative, within the compass of a pocket volume, of the heroic life and the heroic end of the greatest admiral of all time-the most English of all English heroes. But it is far from a satisfactory life in the minuteness of its information; and men who test and try all biographies by the standard of their favorite Boswell-and we know very many who do thiswill find it wanting in the scale of excellence by which they weigh and measure a biography. Southey's Life of Nelson will live as long as the English language, and will always form an enduring introduction to the Nelson Despatches, now in course of publication under the watchful eye of Sir Harris Nicolas.

variety of incident or circumstances in the recluselike life of the Olney hermit; his Life of Kirke White is more in the nature of a preface; his Life of Isaac Watts too hurried a performance to be criticised by the Southey standard of excellence in prose; while his Life of Bunyan abounds in all the beauties of his style, and all the defects of his library and reading.

HOWEVER much people may affect to question the right of Mr. Southey to the name of a great poet-and critics speak confidently both for and against him-no one will affect to dispute his claim to be considered one of the very best of our English prose writers. Nor is it too much to say, perhaps, that his least merit is his style. His range of reading was wide, his diligence great, his memory still greater. He knew the world by something more than the mere spectacles of books; he had looked on nature for himself, and had compared his own experiences with the experiences of others. His observations on life are almost always to the point, and his opinions of men and books invariably of value. He had many of the inborn and acquired qualifications of a good biographer. He could suck the marrow of a book, and give you Mr. Southey was an author by profession; he in a Quarterly Review article the cream of what lived (his pension excepted) entirely by his pen. Coxe had scattered, with an uncunning skill, over He was too apt, therefore, to measure out his two thick quarto volumes. But he always wanted articles and biographies by the sheet. He was, a good pioneer to go before him; and, though he moreover, a writer too apt to diverge into other affected at times to despise the poor but faithful speculations, from the width and variety of his antiquary, with his corn and chaff inconsiderately reading. His Life of Wesley is too big a book for got together into one unmeaning heap, he was the importance of Wesley. His Life of Cowper willing to admit the great utility of the pioneer is written on too extended a scale for the little species of literary men, and the important services which men like Rymer and Oldys, or Carte and Coxe, had conferred upon English history. He was, what is more, a pioneer himself, as much as his leisure time or the resources of his own library would well permit him. His Life of Cowper exhibits a long and patient examination of the dead or dormant literature of the last century, and an anxiety to detect any little particle of information likely to throw light on the subject of his memoir. He was very well aware of the charm with which new materials invariably invest a new biography; of the importance of a date, either in establishing a circumstance beyond cavil or dispute, or in rejecting it altogether from the pale of authentic matter. His diligence was unceasing. He always read with an object, and with a view to a variety of different publications. But his library, though large for a private individual, and large, moreover, for his means, was very ill suited for the wide and diversified range of his writings. Nor was there a library amid the lakes and wilds of Cumberland likely to be of any use to him. He wrote, therefore, under very heavy disadvantages; and it has always appeared to us, that his continuation of Warton's invaluable history, over which he brooded for so many years, must necessarily have been, had it ever been executed, a most imperfect publication. The reading and research of Warton were not confined to the college libraries of Oxford, or the glorious treasures of the Bodleian; he had availed himself of the treasures at Winchester and Cambridge, and had carried his researches into the then newly established British Museum. But we are not likely soon to see another Tom Warton among us; perhaps we shall never see another Southey. They were both great men. The unfinished history by Warton is a monument of human industry and learning; and the prose works of Southey master-pieces of English composition. Southey thought his best prose work his History of Brazil; nor are we inclined to dispute his preference. The manner is above all praise, and the matter, considering its want of European attraction, highly entertaining. He thought comparatively

The best biographies in the world are the inimitable Lives of the inimitable Plutarch. They are models in this style, in manner, treatment, and length. We have good biographies of our own. The Lives of the Poets, by Dr. Johnson, is one of the most fascinating books in the whole range of English literature. We are at a loss to decide which of the several Lives we should admire the most. Cowley was the doctor's own favorite, not for the method or excellence of its narrative, but from the clear and concise account it contains of the rise and fall of the socalled metaphysical poets among us. The Dryden is a delightful Life, but there is hardly a date that is correct throughout the whole of its pages. Pope we read in spite of Mr. Roscoe, nor will it be easy, or even possible, to push it out of favor. The Life of Savage was an early composition, and the reader may observe thirty years' difference of style between it and the Dryden. Savage extends over some one hundred and fifty pages; and of the three or four dates throughout the whole biography, and it actually contains no more, two, at least, are seriously incorrect. The date of his birth is grossly erroneous, and the year of his death was wanting in the first edition. When we have mentioned these curious circumstances in the Life of Savage in the hearing of people well acquainted with the minute circumstances of the narrative, we have found them unwilling to believe us. The truth is, the matter is so romantic, and the manner so irresistible, that people read it, as Reynolds read it, at a standing, and in the avidity of their reading forget everything about dates, those necessary landmarks in history of every kind.

It is fitting to observe here how our best wri