by young ones, and people of tolerable capacity suffer themselves to be laughed out of their senses by those who have no capacity at all, merely for the want of confidence to support their own superiority of intellect. But it is those who reflect on what they read and possess courage to announce their opinion to the world, it is agreed, who improve the public taste, and consequently benefit society."

"The press,' says the ingenious and patriotic Zimmerman, 'is the channel through which writers diffuse the light of truth among the people, and display its radiance to the eyes of the great. Good writers inspire the mind with courage to think for itself; the free communication of sentiments contributes to the improvement and perfection of human reason; and the highest public duty is that of employing our faculties for the benefit of mankind.””

"I shall send for SOMETHING NEW, and form my own opinion of it, unbiassed by partiality or prejudice. Many things may be said and done under the mask, which it would be highly imprudent to hazard without one. Your friend Priscilla for instance, would utter a thousand little pleasantries that amused and did credit to her genius, when mixing with the motley group at a masquerade; but diffident and unassuming, she scarcely ever ventured to discover more than ordinary talents in private society. Here, she was too soon abashed and silenced by the overbearing garrulity

the

of vain pretenders; there, she was secure from of impertinence, and in her turn made presumption blush at her own folly."

66

gaze

May it not be the same with authors? You recollect, no doubt, that Alexander Pope, by not prefixing his name to his celebrated Essay on Man, and giving it to a new publisher, completely vanquished his enemies, and confounded his ill-natured critics. The Essay when printed met with prodigious applause; the supposed new genius was praised at his expence; and he, by declaring himself to be the author in a future edition of that work, threw them all into utter consternation, while he laughed at their waywardness and triumphed in his success. Now who knows, Sister, that the stranger before us may not be an old friend with a new face? Perhaps the author of

the celebrated Old

;

and lest he should be

shunned by the ladies for such a title, now in disguise brings forth SOMETHING NEW."

"I hate disguise," says the lady, "and have no opinion of any thing that comes as 'twere from an air gun,-pop upon one, without making any noise in the world."

NUMBER II.

ON MODERN TASTE AND THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF TALENT.

Authors you know, of greatest fame,
Through modesty, suppress their name;
And would you wish me to reveal
What these superior wits conceal?
Forego the search, my curious friend,
And husband time to better end.”

NONE but a mother, it is commonly said, can judge of a mother's feelings. Perhaps it may be as justly remarked, that none but an author can enter into the feelings of an author. One is shy; another is confident;-some march boldly forward; others with trembling steps advance.While these pace gently on, those with triumph bear away the laurel of applause.

That a celebrated name ought, in most cases, to add force to argument, and weight to opinion, is beyond doubt; but that vulgar prejudices should be adopted, or opinions formed on slender authorities, is contrary to reason, to common sense, and to justice. Nor should we take things for granted upon hearsay, without exercising our own faculties to form a judgment. Without

reflection, without the least consideration, how many unthinking mortals commit themselves by giving into the fashionable weaknesses of the day, and yielding a submission to false notions and erroneous conclusions.

With respect to authors, such is their woeful condition, that they are often condemned without a trial; and are sometimes, whether good, bad, or indifferent, (excuse the vulgar proverb gentle reader), hunted like a badger, to the very extremity of their lurking holes; and when discovered are torn to pieces without mercy.

To meet such barbarous attacks, more than common courage is needful. The majority of mankind is influenced by party and prejudice; and it is a notorious fact, says some able critic, that "a tolerable performance from a person of note, will usually be considered, by the bulk of readers, as an instance of astonishing capacity; though the very same production, ushered into the world with the name of an author under different circumstances, would be totally disregarded."

No sooner is a new publication announced, than WHO IS IT WRITTEN BY? IS IT A GOOD THING? and, WHERE IS IT PUBLISHED? echoes from fair to fair, from young to old, and from old to young; interrogatories as laudable perhaps, in some respects, as natural in others; but when made merely from a motive of curiosity to identify the author, to ascertain his rank in society, or to know whe

to be found now, nor an old friend, without a new face. Our very constitution will be changed anon, I suspect; for new systems are daily springing up; and believe me, Brother, you've only to send to your bookseller," continued she jocosely, "and you'll soon be convinced that there are fifty new things under the sun to be had, for the papers teem with SOMETHING NEW every day. Prithee who is it written by ??"

"By the author, I presume, Madam," solemnly replied the sage, "since you are so mighty sharp, for the advertisement only intimates that

'He has a lean and hungry look;
but he's not dangerous:

he reads much:

He is a great observer; and he looks
Quite through the deeds of men.'

SHAKSPEARE!-HUM!

"So I suspect you will not now be over anxious to cultivate his acquaintance, since he is not introduced to your notice either by a captivating title or a well-known Spark of fashion."

"Perhaps not, Brother," said the lady, drawing herself up, "but pray where is the thing published? that may be a criterion by which one may judge of its merits, since the author does not choose to announce himself."

"Oh! if that be the case," replied her Rallier, "you will decide in its favor at once; for it is published at that great literary depot where none