870 PROPOSED APPLICATIONS OF SMITHSON'S BEQUEST. 



ter of this philanthropist and philosopher. If you think 

 proper to publish any part of these facts in your excellent 

 journal, they are entirely at your service. Erroneous im- 

 pressions of the character of a good man ought to be cleared 

 away. 



As to your second request, that I would indicate some- 

 thing of the nature of the proposed institution, if I can find 

 time I will give you a few thoughts. A determination on 

 this point is not difficult ; we ought to be guided by the 

 known wishes of the testator; by the wants of education 

 generally ; and, lastly, by a consideration of what modifica- 

 tions are needed to make it harmonize with principles and 

 institutions existing among us. 



******* 

 And believe me, yours truly, A 



Prom The Southern Literary Messenger, Richmond, Va., 1840 r 

 Vol. VI, p. 25. 



We publish below our correspondent's second letter upon 

 this important subject. We sincerely commend it to the 

 attention and consideration of our readers. Every friend 

 to the cause of education every lover of the welfare and 

 progress of his county must be deeply interested as to the 

 result which shall dispose of this bequest. We occupy a 

 wide domain of country. It has been bought with blood, 

 and is sacred to freedom it is filling up with an energetic 

 and industrious population, and it must be the theatre of" 

 mighty action. It is so already. The springs of enterprise 

 are in wide-spread operation among us. Towns spring up 

 as by magic in the wilderness, factories line almost every 

 stream, and mills are toiling on every cataract. The bugle 

 of the boatman startles the distant recesses of the west, and 

 ponderous wains, laden with precious stores, glide past us 

 by the hundred. Tne rail car thunders from peopled mart 

 to peopled mart, through ancient solitudes and the abodes 

 of the panther, and the roar of the steam-barge is heard 

 from the waters of the great Mississippi to the far banks of 

 the Penobscot. Our white sails are sheeting over the foam- 

 ing billows of every known sea, and fire-winged ships are 

 speeding to and fro, between us and the Old World, con- 

 tinually. Our streets are blockaded with jars and boxes and 

 bales, and our wharves are enforested by' the masts of every 

 nation of the civilized globe. From morn to night, cease- 



