cil; but it is the
imbecility of spring, and not that of autumn; the imbecility that verges
towards power, and not that is already exhausted with performance. To
behold heroism in its infancy, and immortality in the bud, must be a
most attractive object. To mould those pliant dispositions, upon which
the happiness of multitudes may one day depend, must be infinitely
important.

Proportionable to what we have stated to be the importance of the
subject, is the attention that has been afforded it in the republic of
letters. The brightest wits, and the profoundest philosophers have
emulated each other in their endeavours to elucidate so valuable a
theme. In vain have pedants urged the stamp of antiquity, and the
approbation of custom; there is scarcely the scheme so visionary, the
execution of which has not at some time or other been attempted. Of the
writers upon this interesting subject, he perhaps that has produced the
most valuable treatise is Rousseau. If men of equal abilities have
explored this ample field, I know of none, however, who have so
thoroughly investigated the first principles of the science, or who have
treated it so much at large. If he have indulged to a thousand agreeable
visions, and wandered in the pursuit of many a specious paradox, he has
however richly repaid us for this defect, by the profoundest researches,
and the most solid discoveries.

I have borrowed so many of my ideas from this admirable writer, that I
thought it necessary to make this acknowledgement in the outset. The
learned reader will readily perceive, that if I have not scrupled to
profit from his discoveries, at least I have freely and largely
dissented from him, where he appeared to me to wander from the path of
truth. For my own part, I am persuaded that it can only be by striking
off something of inflexibility from his system, and something of
pedantry from the common one, that we can expect to furnish a medium,
equally congenial to the elegance of civilization, and the manliness of
virtue.

In pursuance of these principles it shall be my first business to
enquire, whether or not the languages ought to make any part of a
perfect system of education; and if they ought, at what time they should
be commenced. The study of them does indeed still retain its ground in
our public schools and universities. But it has received a rude shock
from some writers of the present age; nor has any attack been more
formidable, than that of the