“Η θατ δοθ νοτ λαφ, καννοτ γρω φατ.” Frag. ΜΕΝΑΝ. "Gratis anhelans, multo agendo nihil agens." PHAEDR. "This man presenteth moonshine" SHAKS. It is a very erroneous notion of yours Reader, and one which it is high time should be corrected, that magazine-writing is a very simple and easy thing, while to make books, "Hic labor, hoc opus est." Now Reader we vow to you that it is right the contrary. Nothing in this world is easier than to write a book and a good stout book too, the stouter the better in fact. For instance, if you want to write the life of your friend John Smith, who lost his life in attempting to introduce christianity and brandy among the Indians; you have only to correspond with John's aunt and learn the principal incidents of his boyhood, and then copy about a hundred of his letters, interspersing them with whatever reflections you can borrow, or steal. Wind up with an appendix containing among other things, a treatise on the manners and customs of the Indians, and a dissertation or two on war and commerce. You've done the deed. You are father to a real live book, a plump octavo in handsome binding, that will make you famous in the estimation of all your friends except those who read it. Now how differently the case stands with us magazine-writers. We must perforce be always sprightly and gay, or pathetic and sentimental, or keen and satirical. Something smart at all events is expected from us, and as for being in the least degree, sensible and prosy, we might as well throw down our pens at once, and take to sawing wood for a livelihood. Hitherto the books have had it all their own way. Like great fat lazy owls as they are, they've sat blinking in their holes and hooting infernally at every little innocent magazine or pamphlet that comes fluttering by. Unhandsome nicknames and epithets too have the books heaped upon us. They've called us light, silly, ephemeral, "yellow-covered," and a hundred other things more or less shabby. But a day of retribution is coming. Ah yes! There is a point where forbearance ceases to be a virtue. The score of injuries shall be paid off with interest. Your big, pursy,stall-fed books, will be seen packing off to dusty corners of libraries, to gather cobwebs and be forgotten. The magazine now so lean and hungry, shall take the field and run its race rejoicing. Already may we see tokens of the approaching Golden Age,when magazine-literature shall reign supreme, and the literary world be one vast paradise of pamphlets. The reason why magazines have hitherto labored under such a depression, we conceive to be very obvious. Book makers have always enjoyed the inalienable right of being dull when they please. Take up a book and you expect as a mat ter of course to find long introductions and tedious ambages. Indeed you would be disappointed and the book would sink very much in your estimation, if you did not find it so. It is quite the reverse with magazines. That profound and sagacious stupidity which we so much admire in books, becomes in them a positive blemish. In illustration of our meaning, suppose for instance, that such a work as Campbell's Rhetoric, instead of being arrayed in grave portentous calf, were served out in monthly doses in some periodical like the Edinburg Review, or the Indicator. Instead of the rapturous associations which that book now calls up, we venture the assertion, that the almost unanimous verdict would be. "Flat, jejune, stale." So mighty is the influence of prejudice. "Aliquando bonus dormitat Homerus," says Horace, which is by interpretation, A man has a perfect right to be dull now and then. This we hold to be the Magna Charta of our liberties, and in defence of it we swear to shed our ink to the last drop. We have been led Reader, to make these remarks, by the fact that we have observed lately in you, a growing disposition, to turn up your nose at some of the articles in this our periodical. Now we will tell you plainly that we don't care a straw for yours or any other nose in Christendom. Our conscience assures us that we have been actuated by the purest motives, and if we have occasionally admitted a piece, not particularly racy and sparkling, it has been with the sole view to give the work a character for solidity and soundness. More than once indeed have the members of the editorial corps themselves, been at some pains to write long and prosy pieces, (much against their natural bent,) for this very purpose. We should be very sorry to hurt your feelings Reader by anything we say, but we are by no means of that class who "spare the rod and spoil the chill." What we have penned here, is intended for your good and we therefore declare that we will not write another word till you have turned back and read it all over again from the beginning. You will have time to do it while we are mending our quill and replenishing the fire. Apropos of fire. We hereby invite all our friends, male and female, to call some cold February evening, at the room of Sampson Brass, No. 8, Middle College, where they will find probably the best specimen of a glorious hickory fire, extant. Brass takes a secret pride in his fires. He has a way of laying the logs, that is'nt to be beat, and to see the infinite gusto with which he stirs the coals and sends the flames leaping and roaring up the chimney, is really refreshing. As for stoves and all kindred abominations, away with them from the earth! Who that lives in the same room with a red-hot demon of an air-tight stove, does not feel his brain benumbed and his senses stupified by its pestilent breath? We affirm it to be our candid belief that it is the prevalent use of these articles that has contributed more that any other cause, to bring about that alarming weakness of intellect and scarcity of common sense, so noticeable of late in this college. But here comes the reader. Have you read our remarks over again as we requested you?You have: we will then proceed to what we have been itching for, the last six months, but hav'nt yet for the life of us found time for; we refer to the subject of Politics. It is high time that our position was defined. On a full ballot, we stand, three whigs to two free soilers, so that the Indicator may be considered " a whig, but not an ultra whig" publication. The Great Unknown is a whig, but his principles have that sort of Calhounish bias, which characterizes the Politics of the South. Nestor was for a long time in doubt which of the factions to join, (at the time, you know Reader, when the "whig party was dissolved.") He had many and long debates with himself, and wagged his spectacles over the subject a good deal. He came round right however at last, and is all the stancher for the process. Brass is a scion of the regular old federal stock. He considers Daniel Webster the greatest man in the world, and adopts the follow-my-leader principle in its fullest extent Quilp is not the man to take a stand on the fence. Whichever side he jumps, he jumps with his whole heart. He has accordingly espoused Free soil in no half way, doubtful manner, but" for better or for worse." Ichabod being a cool and rather judicious fellow, and moreover a little too lazy to read the papers, holds on to his Free soil principles by a very easy tenure, and indeed we are not without hopes of converting him to the true faith. For some reason or other, we cannot divine what, both Quilp and Ichabod have for many weeks past, evinced much less inclination than formerly, to talk on Politics. The rest of us regret this very much, for it detracts materially from the animation and life of our meetings. Now that Ichabod is away, (Ichabod is teaching school,) Quilp seems more than usually glum. We doubt not bowever, that when Ichabod returns, and the sympathetic feelings which have been so long dammed up in Quilp's heart, can again flow in their old channels, his vivacity will be restored. Several months ago, the editors were introduced and described to you. Since that time we cannot say there has been any very remarkable change in their appearance. Generally speaking, it might perhaps be proper to say that they wear their dickeys a little higher, and ascend the steps in a little grander style than they did then. We might add to this that Brass and the Great Unknown have tried their hand at the cultivation of whiskers. It is generally considered however even by their friends, to be a failure, and it is likely that they will soon come to the same conclusion themselves. In regard to the rest of the corps, the question of whiskers does not even assume a hypothetical form. We received a few days since, the following rather curious letter. To the Editors of the Indicator. "AMHERST COLLEGE, FEB. 2, 1849. GENTLEMEN:-It has long been in my mind to ask your advice on a subject of some delicacy, and I have determined, though with considerable hesitation, to unbosom myself freely to you, hoping that you can help me in my difficulty. I am a member of this college, and hold a very respectable stand in my class. I consider myself as far as scholarship is concerned, sure of an oration at commencement, and yet I am far from being contented. To be frank, I am the most miserable of men, and the cause is this,—I am destitute of a literary reputation. I can grub out a lesson in Latin or Mathematics as well as the best of them, but when I come to writing, I am at a dead stand. When I hear or read the productions of some of my fellow collegians, I am perfectly amazed at the amount of erudition they display. They seem to have a perfect familiarity with all books of all languages. Now how is this acquired? I confess it seems to me very mysterious. I can hardly get time from my studies to read a chapter in the Bible every day, and the fact that I am thus getting the character of a man of no talent and a mere 'dig,' does I con fess weigh down my spirits. If you can give me any advice how to act in my trials, you will Gentlemen place under lasting obligations, Your ob't, and humble servant, JEREMIAH JOHNSON." It appears to us that Johnson's case is not a solitary one, and we think best to give him our advice in this public way, in order that any others who in like circumstances, may profit thereby. Now the progress of philosophy, though it has as yet pointed out no royal road to learning, has found out one to literary distinction. Our correspondent complains that he finds no time to read. He evidently is under a misapprehension as to the means to be employed, for reading is not essential to a literary reputation. Johnson may be somewhat staggered at this assertion, but we assure him that it is true. We appeal to the literary geniuses of college. Does not your knowledge of books rest more in their titles than in their contents? The man who knows when and by whom every book in the college library was written,is assuredly a more literary man than he who has only read carefully, some dozen or twenty volumes in that vast collection. A great deal of this kind of fame is obtained in bookstores. Our friend Mr. Adams informs us that there are some students, who have made themselves so thoroughly acquainted with the books upon his shelves, as to make it unnecessary for them ever to purchase a single volume. A friend of ours has acquired the name of a great Shakesperian without ever having read a single play through, by always speaking of the bard, as, "Glorious Will." Another is always talking about the "genial Charles Lamb," while a third is considered a great reader of Carlyle, because he interlards his stage pieces with such adjectives as "admirablest," "convenientest." and so on. We know a person who has gained the reputation of being a diligent reader and great admirer of Mr. Prescott, by simply delivering himself on one or two occasions in company, of a well timed remark about the "Aztec Civilization." It will however be worth while, before launching out in this way, to inform one's self carefully of the character of the company he is in. There is something rather awkward in having the brilliant anecdote you were relating with such effect, corrected in all its important particulars, by a quiet man in the corner whom you had not observed before. Quotations also will be found useful, particularly that kind mentioned by Laman Blanchard; in which the inverted commas are omitted. There is another way of quoting which is becoming quite fashionable. Compose some odd and striking sentence, no matter whether it have much meaning or not, make it as quaint as possible, and ascribe it to some author whom you are sure nobody has read. It is oftentimes much easier to make quotations in this way, than to look them up. It will be found too, of essential importance, to adopt a certain sesquipedalian ponderosity of style. We might go on to give further directions, but we think that our correspondent will take the hint sufficiently, from what we have already said. TO CORRESPONDENTS. "Fragments" is on file for insertion. “ U——ly” is informed that we do not think it " desirable,advisable,worth-whileable, or any-thing-else-able," to accept his piece. We do not often threaten, but we declare solemnly that if II. sends us any more of his "Lines," we'll print them. |