for their discoverer honour and applause. Columbus, by the power of genius, and the force of inductive reasoning, discovered a new world beyond the western waters. Americus Vespucius claimed the earliest discovery, and accidentally connected his name with the American continent: but does the world consider the latter as more than the adventurous marine? or will Columbus be remembered, while authentic history exists, as other than the enlightened philosopher? The meritorious discoverer is not, therefore, he who first stumbled upon the mine, but he whose philosophic view first recognised its existence. Original productions, depending on new combinations of known ideas, are numerous and diversified. The various ideas which man receives from sensible objects, admit an almost infinite number of variations. Among these are included all inventions, whether in art, science, or literature. These, however various and boundless, are still susceptible of accurate division and examination. Three prominent classes are easily distinguished, viz. 1. Practical inventions, produced by reason, to benefit or amuse mankind. 2. Theories to elucidate the hidden principles of nature. 3. The fictions of the imagination. Of the first kind are the machines and instruments used by artists, mechanics, and men of science. They are means invented by man to facilitate his labours, or extend his research. Utility is their standard of excellence. They are directed to some useful end, and when successful, confer honour on their inventor. The art of printing, the telescope, and the machines used in the manufacture of cloth, are distinguished examples of practical invention. Fluxions, being practically applied to the operations of mechanical philosophy, belong also to this class. The merit of this invention was long a subject of learned controversy; but whether the author was a native of England, or of Germany, the world are at least undivided in their opinion of his intellectual greatness. The fame of Leibnitz and of Newton is above detraction. It is to be remembered, that where the original elements are equally open to all, new combinations of them may be simultaneous in many minds; hence one may be a successful candidate for the honours of original invention, and yet not the sole inventor. This seems to have been the case in the application of steam to the art of navigation. It is now well known, that Fulton was not the only American whose genius contributed to this noblest work of the age. Inventions in the department of the fine arts are practical, but vary from those before considered, in being intended to please the taste, rather than to serve any purpose of utility. As these are intended to ornament or amuse, a diversity of tastes will always produce a diversity of opinions with regard to their merits. But whatever may be their object, all opinions will agree whether they have succeeded, or grossly failed, in producing their intended effect. Hence, we may infer, generally, that the merits of a practical invention depend upon its capacity to fulfil the purposed design. This capacity is the measure of men's obligations, and of the honours due to the original inventor. Ingenuity, indeed, is often displayed in the wildest projects. The patent office abounds with models of machines, mostly useless, and often impracticable. These are the abortive fruits of misguided genius. Thousands of such visionary schemes are found, where one Arkwright has diminished the labours of the manufacturer, or one Galileo extended the views of the astronomer. Theoretical combinations are, in general, merely speculative opinions. Geologists and metaphysicians have, in every era of the world, formed their own peculiar theories of the earth and the mind. These have varied with the various characteristics of the individual, and the various stages of knowledge in the world. Each has found its admirers, and its doctrines have been urged and defended with the most zealous and unwearied perseverance. But of these speculations none probably is, and one only can be, true. Each may be original, each may be ingenious; yet all are little better than idle conjecture, while truth remains, and perhaps for ever will remain, undiscovered. The inventions of the imagination are more numerous than any other. Its wanderings are only confined within the limits of complex ideas. All the glories of nature--all the beauties of art-all the excellencies of character, with all that can excite sympathy, or affection, or benevolence, furnish materials for the picture it draws, for the structure it erects. The ever active fancy creates, at each moment, new beings, new actions, and new scenery. The mind, desirous of novelty, exerts its inventive powers to gratify its ruling passion, and seeks in an imaginary creation those varied delights which the real one cannot supply; hence comes all the machinery of romance, with the tender and beautiful imagery of poetry; hence, the Elysian field, the waters of Lethe, the Stygian lake, and all the incidents of heathen mythology, so full of classic interest and poetic beauty; hence, also, many of the charms of meditation, and the visions of hope. The poet and the novelist, by the allurements of fictitious song or story, divert the attention, for a brief moment, from cares that perplex, and anxieties that obtrude upon the wearied mind. And who would destroy such pleasing delusions? The source of these pleasures is the love of novelty. To gratify this insatiable propensity, the writer of poetry or romance compares and combines the materials with which nature and art supply him in every variety of form, and manner, and incident. Whatever is original in these compositions, can only be some new combinations of ideas already known; for it is needless to say, that no new ideas can be created by the utmost power of the mind. However wild or strange the world which imagination invents, and the beings who people it, that world and those beings must necessarily be derived from known existence. The elementary ideas are drawn from nature. In combining those ideas, the author is, however, free to range through the wide wilderness of opinions, prejudices, and superstitions, prevalent at different periods, and among different nations of the world. The geography of human nature presents him with all that is strange, or peculiar, or diversified. Its history developes the sources of mental sublimity, or of moral degradation, and exhibits, in the strongest colours, the images of past glory, and the beauties of departed excellence. And while the writer selects his materials, and combines them in every variety of light and shade, "Bright ey'd Fancy, hovering o'er, Scatters from her pictur'd urn Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." The novelist finds subjects for story in the peculiar customs and traditionary records of different nations; he can lay the scene of his narrative in countries not yet emerged from intellectual darkness, or at periods of time, when those who are now polished and cultivated were rude and unenlightened. What we do not believe or respect ourselves, we are willing to hear related of those to whom fame or history has attributed such belief or respect. Why did the mysterious romances of the last century excite so much interest and pleasure? Was it not that the story was generally related of a people whose minds were yet uncultivated, and whose opinions were still superstitious? Would not the genii of the Persian tales be tedious beings, when transplanted from the regions of the east, to some soil less fertile in supernatural events? But, as it is, these tales are interesting not only to the rude peasant, whose mind is prepared by ignorance and credulity for the reception of the most marvellous events, but also to the liberal and learned. The comprehensive mind of Montesquieu delighted, in its intervals of relaxation, to tread the wild and adventurous path of Persian imagination. Had those stories been related of a people whose precise habits and sober feelings had long estranged them from the reputation of such delusions, their evident incongruity would have destroyed their interest. This is one among the numerous proofs, that fitness and propriety are as necessary in works of imagination, as in the ornament of dress, or the proportions of a building. The sources of beauty are the same in all things. They vary little, whether developed in the lineaments of the human countenance, beheld in the monumental remains of architectural ingenuity, or diffused through the nobler works of the poet and philosopher. Wherever grace and harmony are displayed among the productions of genius, or the works of nature, a sensation of beauty is felt, and emotions of delight are excited. The want of either would, on the contrary, displease by producing an idea of harshness or deformity. He, therefore, who would excel in works of taste, must frequently neglect originality, to adorn what has already been invented. Works of imagination are always intended, by the display of ingenuity, or the excitement of strong interest, to amuse the mind, and awaken the passions. As they can easily turn the feelings into any channel, they are unworthy of approbation when the sentiment excited is not virtuous. Originality in such a subject may justly be deemed meritorious, when, by novelty, beauty of imagery, or congruity of incident, they please the reader without inculcating immorality, and relate events without violating probability. If they do not inform the mind, they may improve the heart. The youthful reader may catch enthusiasm from some patriotic Wallace, and emulating the visionary hero, become the generous champion of his native land. Fictitious narratives are generally well received by the world, and their original author enjoys, while living, a distinction and renown seldom yielded to those whose productions are far more useful and instructive. He who moves our passions is better rewarded than he who supplies our necessities; for the hope of pleasure is always more predominant than the fear of want. From these considerations, it is apparent that originality, in order to merit our admiration and encouragement, must display in its inventions and discoveries, the exercise of an intellect whose operations are directed to the laudable purpose of benefiting the human family. Most others are generally either the visions of a wild and disordered imagination, or originate from some aberration of reason. Hence such improvements as abridge the labours, or minister to the comforts and conveniences of man, are worthy objects of our patronage and regard. It is obvious that we should always be careful to subject the merits of every innovation to a critical analysis, lest we should ignorantly waste our munificence in cherishing speculating theorists, to the injury of deserving benefactors. It is true that the secrets of nature have been revealed, and facts long buried in doubt been brought to light, by the most chimerical speculations. Modern chemistry owes much of its present usefulness to the experiments of the Alchymists. But such results depend too much on fortuitous circumstances to entitle them to be considered as the natural fruits of the follies from which they were fortunately derived. There are fanatics and false prophets in morals and science as well as in religion. The world has even now its visionaries, who seek to undermine the principles of social order, which have long received the sanction of civilized communities, and to substitute for them their own fantastic systems, whose leading doctrines are not only at war with the best feelings of our natures, but utterly repugnant to the precepts of Christianity. Such self-named philanthropists are actuated by the vain-glorious motive of immortalizing themselves as the founders of some novel scheme of government, or as the propagators of some newly discovered creed. If nature has endowed these individuals with superior capacities, they are guilty of a gross misapplication of their powers. They do not deserve that the world should countenance and admire projects, that wear a show of public good only to mark the designs of their selfish ambition. It is enough to do what we fear is, after all, done too rarely and too tardily-to cherish such exhibitions of genius as are really useful and meritorious. AN ANCHORIPE. THE LOVES OF THE SHELL FISHES. A CRAB there was, a dashing young blade, |