But be this as it may, Ichabod, sorely animated and infatuated by the example of his master, did use, in his absence on great state affairs, to mount incontinently on his bench in the shop, and make speeches to the old boots and shoes, which he denominated "stirring men's soles," insomuch that it was currently reported, that he one day melted a lapstone into tears. This being rather an extraordinary fact, I should have omitted it, as incompatible with my plan, which escheweth every thing remarkable, were it not that I consider it apocryphal, and can for that reason record it with a quiet conscience.

Thus diciplined by private theory and practice, Ichabod became by degrees a mighty orator, insomuch that he is credibly reported to have got the better of the cobbler's wife in a discussion concerning free will, a doctrine she maintained both in principle and practice-which was more than the cobbler could do in the whole course of his useful and illustrious pilgrimage. Elevated with this great victory, and being now of an age to become a teacher in the land, he took to himself what is called leg-bail, moved for a habeas corpus, and removed himself to the great city of Gotham, where, as he said, his talents would no longer be hid under a bushel. It happened, by one of those rare instances of good fortune which so abound in the life of my hero, that he arrived just about the time when the strength of parties was to be tested in the election of a constable, or scavenger, I am ashamed to say I have forgot which. Still more luckily for Ichabod, the principal orator of the ward in which he had taken up his abode was so hoarse with a bad cold, that he croaked like unto a bull-frog, and made the people groan in sympathy when he addressed them. Seizing an opportunity which occurs only once in the life of mortal man, Ichabod offered his services, in place of the man with the cold, which being accepted, he delivered an oration which caused the ears of the people to ring like a chime of bells. I regret that I cannot say on which side he spoke, for that is a point on which divers discreet persons differ unto this day.

Certain it is, however, the speech had a wonderful effect in deciding the election, in one way or the other, for this too was a matter of great doubt. The successful magistrates thereupon, in fervent gratitude for his exertions in the good cause, elevated him to the high office of ranger of the people's park, where he distinguished himself by most unheard of services. If a boy was found flying a kite, rolling a hoop, or tossing his ball, within the jurisdiction of Ichabod, he would reprimand and exhort him with a force of eloquence, that very frequently caused the tears to gush from the offender's nose, being doubtless led to this mistake in their direction, by the prickings of an unquiet conscience smitten to its inmost vitals. Every body said he was a most vigilant officer, and it was now confidently asserted, that he was about being promoted to the superintendance of a great public walk, called the fort or battery, I doubt which, being troubled with an infirmity of memory, which prevents my recollecting any thing but matters of little consequence.

But alas! reader, what are all the towering hopes of man! His waking anticipations are but dreams, and his castles are all built in the air. He lieth down in clover, and he waketh in the sands of the desert. He

danceth forth in the merry morning on two legs, and returneth ere night on one. He is born with two legs of flesh, and he dieth with wooden ones. He buildeth a three-story house, with folding doors and marble mantelpieces, and taketh lodgings in one six feet by two, without either doors or windows, where light and air can never come, until the graves give up their dead. Such was the fate of my friend Ichabod. He was appointed superintendant as aforesaid, and, in the anticipation of one day mounting to the highest step in the ladder of municipal promotion, had actually sat to an eminent artist for his picture, for which he paid fifteen dollars, in promises, when Death came, kicked the ladder from under him, levelled his proud hopes to the dust, and cut short my biography.

Well and truly might it be said, that he who trusts to the stability of popular caprices rides on the tail of a weathercock, and is at the mercy of every wind that blows. A revolution took place in the city of Gotham; the ins became the outs, the outs the ins, and the whole community was turned upside down. Ichabod lost his place, to the great delight of all the rude boys, who rejoiced mightily, and did let off thousands of Chinese crackers on the occasion of recovering their ancient right of flying kites, rolling hoops, and bouncing balls, which they enjoy under the common law, being that the memory of man runneth not to the contrary of these juvenile recreations.

Ichabod was a man of great sensibility. I have seen him actually weep at the barbarity of skinning an onion, and more than once have I detected the moisture gathering in his eye, while banqueting on corned beef and mustard, which effusion of intense feeling was doubtless owing to a deeprooted sympathy for slain bullocks. The ingratitude of the public smote him sorely; he threw down his arms, as it were, exclaimed "the jig is up,” and turned for consolation to the recollection of his good actions, aided by that never failing friend of suffering merit, the bottle. He was in truth broken hearted, and this, added to a broken head he got, he never could tell how, in returning from his devotions to the holy bottle, carried him off at the age of forty, in the prime of his usefulness, the bud of his anticipations, and the full maturity of his faculties.

Among the honors preparing for him when he was thus snatched away by Death, probably out of pure envy of his rising glories, was that of being associated with divers illustrious men of the nation, living and dead, in a great national work, consisting of portraits accompanied by biographies. In aid of this just tribute to merit and services, I had prepared this brief sketch, in the humble hope that while I was doing justice to my friend, I might confer some little credit on my country. I grieve to be obliged to state that this biography was considered inadmissible, from an apprehension that my hero would, as it were, take the shine from too many of the distinguished persons commemorated in the doomsday-book of immortality. This will account for its appearance in another publication, without the portrait, which the landlord seized for rent, on the decease of my friend.

It is unnecessary, after this brief though circumstantial relation of his life and actions, to delay the reader any longer. His character appears in

his conduct; and his claim on the veneration of posterity must rest on the solid basis of having done nothing remarkable. Thus, now-a-days, when great men are so plenty, that, did not biographers increase with the demand for their services, and perhaps a little faster, many illustrious benefactors of the age would be utterly forgotten, solely on the frivolous ground of having performed nothing worth remembering-this, I say, is in my opinion a sufficient reason for the humble tribute I have here offered to the memory of Ichabod Ragamuffin. If any person shall take upon him to deny that 66 a great man has fallen in Israel," I am ready to agree with him, since if my hero had really been such, I should scarcely have troubled my head about him. In an age where a vast majority of mankind are great, I consider it the highest distinction to be little, as a dwarf is the more remarkable among giants. Gulliver was as much an object of honor among the Brobdignags, as the Lilliputians.

THE FINE ARTS, VERSUS THE SPIRIT OF THE AGE.

There may have been more stirring and bustling periods-eras which have called forth more of the fearful energy, and high power of the human character, than that in which we live, but we question whether the world ever wore a more business-like air, than it does in the present age. The course of time has at length brought it down to an epoch when all its schemes, enterprises, and resources are bent into one vast, absorbing, and practical channel. The fabrics of speculative philosophy, and the dreams of poetry have all disappeared-sentiment and romance have become exploded. There is but one spirit-one master passion-one ruling desire, and that is utility.

Of our country this is emphatically true. A tendency to extremes is a peculiar characteristic of her citizens. With them the reigning pursuit is the all-engrossing one, and is followed to the exclusion of much that is valuable. Nowhere else is the spirit of the age carried to such a pitch of enthusiasm. Nowhere have more extended schemes of physical improvement, or mechanical invention, originated, or been carried into execution on a grander scale, and never of consequence has a nation arisen in rank and riches with such unrivalled rapidity.

This is all well. It speaks proudly of the genius, enterprise, and industry of our countrymen. But were it not also desirable that a proper balance of character should be prescrved—that the ornamental should be blended with the useful, and taste and refinement keep pace with national greatness and prosperity? That the intellectual and physical should go hand in hand—that science, literature, and the fine arts, and those researches and studies which embellish and improve, exalt and immortalize, should not be neglected? That we should turn occasionally from our projects of great pith and moment-from the toil and sweat of the marketplace, and the forum-from rolling forward the vast and complicated machinery of moral and mechanical improvement, to recreate ourselves in the haunts of the muses and the retreats of the arts?

An exclusive attention to any pursuit, either in nations or individuals, is liable to induce an unfavorable narrowness of mind and peculiarity of character. Especially is this true of those which may be denominated the money-making employments. If not relieved by the cultivation of the nobler faculties, they most commonly engender that sordid grovelling, and grasping spirit, which deforms and degrades the mind, and prevents that proper development of its powers, which constitutes the perfection of the human character. But by blending a taste for the productions of genius, and an appreciation of the elegance and beauty of art, with the details and drudgery of business, all professions may become ennobled and ennobling, and exert a highly beneficial influence upon the

intellect and spirit of their country. When Italy awoke from the slumber of the middle ages, to effect the revival of learning in modern Europe, and light up again the almost extinguished spark of genius, the change was wrought, not by a few isolated and solitary laborers in the cause, but by the universal enthusiasm of the people. We are told that her merchants combined a love of literature and the arts with the pursuits of commerce, and trafficked with even greater avidity for the intellectual relics of antiquity, than for the bales of the Indies.

It is to this spirit that we owe, not only the exquisite specimens of Grecian and Roman fine arts, and the noblest works of their poets, historians, and philosophers, but also the immortal productions of Dante, Tasso, Ariosto, Raphael, Guido, and Angelo, and a host of others whose names adorn the catalogue of Italian greatness. And it is by such a spirit cherished by the great mass of our citizens, and by this alone, that the character of our own literature is to be raised-that we shall be enabled to give to the world rivals and successors worthy of the great spirits of antiquity, and take that station which we ought to hold in the republic of letters and of art. The very aliment of genius is the breath of popular favor. It will never spring up without culture, nor flourish without encouragement. It must be planted by the enthusiasm of a people, and fostered by their admiration.

It matters not to talk of the infancy of our country. Did age give literary excellence to Venice and Genoa? Was it not in the infancy of Greece, that Hesiod and Homer lived and sung? And were they her years which gave to Rome her literary supremacy? No-it was a revolution in the tastes and sentiments of her citizens, which was brought about by the influence of Grecian letters

"Grecia capta ferum victorem cepit, et artes
Intulit agresti Latio."—

a turning from the pursuits of war and political ambition, to those of philosophy, poetry, and the arts. And age will bring to us none of the honors of exalted and commanding genius, or the fruits of intellectual refinement, if it effects not a change in the character and spirit of our countrymen.

There are those who affect to wonder, that American genius has not in this age produced any great work, either in poetry, sculpture, or painting. For our part, we should deem it far more surprising if it had. The pursuits, sentiments, and feelings of the mass of our citizens, are entirely at variance with the spirit of these professions. There is little taste for their beauties, or desire for their success; and they have sprung up and flourished like exotic plants, in a rugged and uncongenial soil, beneath the neglect of those whose care it should be to nurture them. So long as our painters and sculptors are compelled to seek in foreign lands the patronage which is denied them at home, and our poets to forsake the worship of the muses, for the active avocations of life, it is idle to expect from them exalted excellence.