distinction in the midst of the great men with whom they
acted, we should find not among the least their early acquisitions in
literature, the resources which it furnished, the promptitude and
facility which it communicated, and the wide field it opened for analogy
and illustration; giving them thus, on every subject, a larger view and
a broader range, as well for discussion as for the government of their
own conduct.

Literature sometimes disgusts, and pretension to it much oftener
disgusts, by appearing to hang loosely on the character, like something
foreign or extraneous, not a part, but an ill-adjusted appendage; or by
seeming to overload and weigh it down by its unsightly bulk, like the
productions of bad taste in architecture, where there is massy and
cumbrous ornament without strength or solidity of column. This has
exposed learning, and especially classical learning, to reproach. Men
have seen that it might exist without mental superiority, without vigor,
without good taste, and without utility. But in such cases classical
learning has only not inspired natural talent; or, at most, it has but
made original feebleness of intellect, and natural bluntness of
perception, something more conspicuous. The question, after all, if it
be a question, is, whether literature, ancient as well as modern, does
not assist a good understanding, improve natural good taste, add
polished armor to native strength, and render its possessor, not only
more capable of deriving private happiness from contemplation and
reflection, but more accomplished also for action in the affairs of
life, and especially for public action. Those whose memories we now
honor were learned men; but their learning was kept in its proper place,
and made subservient to the uses and objects of life. They were
scholars, not common nor superficial; but their scholarship was so in
keeping with their character, so blended and inwrought, that careless
observers, or bad judges, not seeing an ostentatious display of it,
might infer that it did not exist; forgetting, or not knowing, that
classical learning in men who act in conspicuous public stations,
perform duties which exercise the faculty of writing, or address
popular, deliberative, or judicial bodies, is often felt where it is
little seen, and sometimes felt more effectually because it is not seen
at all.

But the cause of knowledge, in a more enlarged sense, the cause of
general knowledge and of popular educa