An ignorant is but an ignorant; but, a sophist is an immoral man. That any one differing from me is an ignorant, a sophist, or a more enlightened individual than I; it is not for me to decide. My object, is to find out, here, the truth of this important argument, and not to offend those who do not, wish not, or cannot agree with me. Nothing, it seems to me, is more preposterous, than that, which we have read by persons contrary to the interest of american writers, though, I suppose, many of them may be honest, with all their singular views on the subject. This country is now inundated with trashes mixed of few good works: and the people are so much enticed to buy the yet moist works from the press, for which the standards of the libraries are neglected. On entering a store, the first question, which a customer asks now of a bookseller, it is for pamphlets just come out of the press. ‘We heard,’ they say, ‘that Johnson, Addison, Pope, and thousand others we have not read, are fine and clever writers: but our days are going ahead; and were we reading the old books, we would be left behind this rolling railroad.’ Thus, the reading time, which should be spent with classical works, and of taste, it is generally given to trifling books. I saw persons reading poor descriptions of sceneries from France or Italy, while they were running by steam, through the most beautiful sceneries of America--american sceneries which they had never seen before! Such kind of readers, I am inclined to believe, read more for fashion, than for the purpose of instruction. Have we no standard works to peruse, even such trifling things would be better than nothing, since I have not read the most trifling book, without deriving some instruction from it. But, if we can improve our taste by looking at, and studying the pictures of Guido, Leonardo da Vinci, Albert Durer, Hans Holbein, or Hogarth; why will we spend our precious time in looking at poor pictures, or reading through very little sense?