We are perfectly serious in speaking of _Liberian Literature_. Yes--in Liberia, a province on the coast of Africa, where, thirteen years and a half ago, the tangled and pathless forest frowned in a silence unbroken save by the roar of wild beasts, the fury of the tornado, the whoop of the man-stealer, or the agonizing shrieks of his victims on being torn from their homes to brave the horrors of the Middle Passage and of the West Indies--in Liberia, the English language is now spoken; the English spirit is breathed; English Literature exists; and with it, exist those comforts, virtues, and pleasures, which the existence of Literature necessarily implies. Plantations--farm-houses--villages, built of brick, stone, and wood--glass windows, carpeted floors, papered walls, and neat if not elegant furniture--well-supplied tables--stores, filled with various merchandize--churches, where neatly dressed throngs devoutly send up the note of praise--bands of infantry and artillery, properly organized, armed, and trained--schools, in which hundreds are inducted into the pleasant pathway of knowledge--and (the most expressive sign of all) a NEWSPAPER, filled with instructive and entertaining matter--all these, amid an industrious and thriving population of three or four thousand, have taken place of the savage forest and its unlovely concomitants. What heightens--indeed what _constitutes_ the wonder--is, that the main _operatives_ in this great change are _not white men_. The printer and the editor of the newspaper--the merchants--most of the teachers and all the pupils--the owners and cultivators of the farms--the officers and soldiers in the military companies--the throng in the churches--are all _colored people_, except some score of whites, whom the climate, generally fatal to white men, spares yet awhile, as if in gratitude for their benefactions to Africa. What we especially had in view, however, when we began this article, was neither rhapsody nor dissertation upon the march of Liberia to prosperity and civilization--unparalleled as that march is, in the annals of colonization--but a notice (a _critical notice_, if the reader please) of the aforesaid newspaper; by way of _instancing_ the literary condition of the settlement. Cowper calls a newspaper, "a map of busy life--its fluctuations, and its vast concerns:" and indeed we can imagine no surer index to the moral and intellectual character of a people, than the 'folio of four pages,' which periodically ministers to, and constantly takes its tone from, their prevailing tastes, tempers, and opinions.--We have before us half a dozen numbers of the "LIBERIA HERALD;" coming down to No. 4, of the sixth volume, dated October 31, 1835, whence we learn that it has existed for more than five years. It is printed on a sheet as large as many of our village papers, and larger than several which we occasionally see.