220 THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE. 



Independently of its usefulness, there is undoubtedly a pleasure 

 in the pursuit of knowledge merely for its own sake. When, in 

 turning over the classic page we imbibe the profound wisdom of the 

 dialogues of Socrates, and other Grecian sages, the uncompro- 

 mising integrity of Cato ; or listen to the thundering appeals of 

 Demosthenes, or the graceful imagery and flowery diction of Cicero, 

 which once over-awed the fierce crowds of the Quirites, we seem for 

 the moment to be in actual converse with the illustrious dead, and 

 to tread with them the solemn porches of the Athenian Lyceum. It is 

 the cultivated mind alone that can appreciate the accurate reasoning of 

 Locke, the profound eloquence of Brown, or the soaring sublimity 

 of Milton. But if the wisdom of ancient sages, and the elegance of 

 modem literature are an insufficient incitement, there are still pur- 

 suits of absorbing interest in the study of man, as the various phases 

 of his character are unfolded in sacred and profane history ; and in 

 the unbounded fields of research to which the modem discoveries in 

 geological, astronomical, and chemical science invite our attention. 

 By reason of the close analogy which exists between the laws of God 

 as they relate to the spiritual and material universe, the mind of man, 

 by the pursuit of natural knowledge, may be more fully opened to a 

 perception of its true relation to its Creator, and to eternity as revealed 

 in the Word of God. Who, with such an object in view, and whose 

 heart is warmed with so holy an aspiration, does not at once resolve 

 to enlarge his small store of knowledge, and to strengthen his feeble 

 powers, adopting the beautiful prayer of Milton, 



" What in me is dark, 

 " Illumine I — what is low, raise and support." 



It is an indisputable fact that there are such things as premature 

 births in the world of mind. Gray was not very much mistaken 

 when he presumed that " some mute inglorious Milton" might have 

 been interred in an obscure village churchyard. Nature, it is pos- 

 sible, in her incomprehensible prodigality may allow in some degree 

 the noblest part of her creation, the intelligent mind of man, to run 

 waste ; at least, so it may appear to us, who form our opinions rather in 

 relation to this world and temporal things, than as they are connected 

 with an immortal existence. How many have we beheld whose 

 powerful and gigantic intellect seemed just to have attained maturity. 



