THE time having returned when the editorship of the MAGAZINE passes into other hands, it has been transferred to our charge, as representatives of that Class to whom, by right of succession, its management belongs.

The progress of the Magazine under its former editors we all know. Of its success under us, time and yourselves must be the judges. We have no promises to make; we ask not to be judged by these. Suffice it to say, in receiving the office which our classmates have so generously bestowed upon us, we have, in the very act, given the most solemn assurance we could give, that we will spare no exertion, and that whatever of ability we may possess, shall be unreservedly devoted to the interests of the Magazine.

Of the utility of such a periodical in such an institution as our own, we can not speak too highly. If any in the beginning doubted its usefulness, we trust that what they have already seen of it, has removed their scepticism. The Magazine is the offspring of our leisure, and not of time and labor stolen from the more imperative duties of College discipline. It is the result of hours devoted to literary pursuits, which otherwise might have been spent in dissipation, or in some idle amusements. And if by affording another and a more valuable recreation, we are enabled to seduce any from vice and idleness, one great and important end of the Magazine is accomplished.

And will it not hereafter be a source of the highest gratification, when, in the pause of the great hurricane of life, we look back upon the past, to review the pages of this Magazine, and find, in the lucubrations there recorded, evidence of much valuable time redeemed from waste? And if in this way we may be

able to avoid but one single recollection of misspent time and privileges a recollection which, however lightly we may rate it now, will in the end "bite like a serpent and sting like an adder," we shall be amply repaid for every necessary expense of time and money. But aside from this, the Magazine is invaluable as an index of the tastes and talents here assembled; as an earnest to the friends of the institution of those abilities and acquirements which are soon to pass out from the calm retreats of science into the stormy conflict of life; as a theater of intellectual exertion, where the mind may measure and discipline its powers; and in a word, as a monthly report upon the literary character of our College.

The Magazine has already been in operation between two and three years. It has survived the sickly period of infancy, and, judging from the usual lifetime of College periodicals, has reached the equally critical time of imbecile old age, when, according to the oracles of its enemies, it must give up the ghost, and, like many of its "great rejected," be "consigned to the tomb of the Capulets." But its present condition, so far from betraying the dotage of age, is proof that it has not yet passed the hey-day of its youth. The interest which has all along been felt in the Magazine, is every day increasing, and the sphere of its circulation is every day widening, so that it is not now confined to Yale College, nor to the State in which we reside. Since then the Magazine has come into our hands under these flattering circumstances, it imposes a double tax upon our time and attention, that it may not retrograde or remain stationary, but make a proportional advance. And though we lay no claim to the abilities of our predecessors, yet by an increase of exertion on our part, and of patronage on yours, we hope to be able to enlarge and improve its contents, and to render it a valuable field of literary effort, honorable alike to the College and ourselves.

To ask your support is unnecessary. If we do our duty to the Magazine, you will not withhold it; if we do not, we have no right to expect it.

With these few words between us, we pass to the duties of our office, which we should have done in silence, had custom permitted. Relying on your indulgence and courtesy, and with many acknowledgments to our classmates for the honor conferred upon us, we remain, fellow-students, yours, respectfully,

THE EDITORS.

ON THE DUTIES OF THE AMERICAN SCHOLAR.

Ar no period in the history of our country, has there been a keener relish for high excitements, than at the present day. A kind of feverish irritability and restlessness predominates to such an extent, that deliberation, forethought and prudence no longer characterize our movements. Now plans of action whether moral, civil or political, meet with no reception, unless conceived, agitated and developed in the twinkling of an eye,-and then are forced to their completion with the velocity of lightning. That man who sits down to count the cost of any effort, and then pursues it with becoming discretion, is regarded as both inefficient and, at least, half a century behind his age. Such indeed is the rapidity with which every thing is carried forward, that to keep 'up with the times, a man needs to be borne upon the winds ;— and to understand and especially to anticipate the movements around him, he must follow the highest flights of a phrensied imagination. So inwrought into the very texture of society is this excitability and burning rage for wealth, for honor, for political preferment, that to live in peace and retain, with surety, his possessions, a man must act and sympathize with the rabble, must descend to their level and identify his interest with theirs. So corrupt and depraved is the public taste that, to stand upon the pinnacle of fame by his efforts through the press, a man must pander for the appetites and passions of the low and vulgar;-to ensure public patronage in either of the professions, he must profess and practice the most consummate quackery, please the popular ear and employ such studied duplicity as not to be, too often detected. And to occupy a seat in our halls of legislation, or to fill an office of honor or emolument in our government, he must discard the constitution, and the good of his constituents,-swear allegiance to the party,-clamor for his own election,-boast of his superior powers as a financier and a statesman,―treat truth aud justice with contempt,-bribe, wheedle and deceive the electors, be a skillful magician, a distinguished partisan and "a good engineer with powerful machinery.'

Amid such conflicting elements, the American scholar is to be thrown, and to avert the evils incident to their rage, we look to him more than to all others besides.

Finding their origin as many of them do, in the violent ebullitions of party strife, we will now remark only on his obligation with reference to that single point.

If there were still any doubt of the deleterious effects of this unquenchable thirst for political aggrandizement, it might be ad

ded, that it not only injures and corrupts the candidates and renders them miserable during their conflicts, but it throws the whole community into agitation, awakens jealousies, lets loose the tongue of slander and sets neighbor at variance with neighbor;-and when in power, they cling with such a death grasp to their offices, that, to retain them, they descend to every measure, however low and detestable. To reward their constituents and secure their future suffrages, they confer upon them every little petty office, or any favor in their power to bestow. And the civil authority in some towns, have filled their jury boxes with the names of those individuals who were known to have the same political sentiments with a majority of that board. Thus in our courts (professedly) of justice, we have "packed jurors," ready for a verdict of "NOT GUILTY," for all who hail under the same banner with themselves. An acquaintance with this fact led to the previous remark, that, to live in peace and retain with surety his possessions, a man must act and sympathize with the rabble;— for it is from this class that many of our jurors are now selected. Under circumstances like these, the American scholar is called to act, and is bound, in order to act efficiently in allaying the violence of party,

To qualify HIMSELF for the peculiar exigencies into which he

will be thrown.

It is universally admitted that every man requires that kind of discipline which will fit him best for the station he is to occupy. Allowing the scholar to select either of the professions, or any pursuit indeed, in which men of literature and science usually engage; and let him be well qualified to fill that particular station, yet he will not be prepared to meet all the demands which his country has a right to make upon him. Had Washington been a thorough, scientific lawyer, and known nothing of military tactics and the policy of governments, he never could have filled those stations he occupied with so much honor to himself and benefit to this nation. Thus with the American scholar, although he may not need the instructions of the fencing school; yet he must study the policy of governments, the comparative value of their respective models, and the occasion of their overthrow. He must understand, in particular, the nature and value of our free institutions, the principles upon which they were founded, and the best means for their perpetuity. He cannot himself, much less can he make others appreciate them, without this knowledge. Nor is it material what his profession is;-none is so high or holy as to excuse him from this obligation. The amount of this kind of knowledge he should acquire, and the manner he should employ it, would be modified by the particular station he might occupy. But as a scholar, he is bound to acquaint himself with civil polity, and the best means of preserving peace and good

order in society. This knowledge he can use in a way not incompatible with his other duties, however humane or sacred.

The American scholar is bound also to exert himself to enlighten THE COMMUNITY in which he is located.

If intelligence is ever generally diffused it must be by those who appreciate its worth. The ignorant will never seek after, nor possess it, unless it is carried to their very doors. This the scholar should do, from the fact that one of the most prolific sources of violent party strife is to be traced to the ignorance of multitudes of our electors. The unqualified office seeker being conscious that he can never attain the object of his desires by his own intrinsic worth, he enters upon an electioneering campaign ;-he deals with the illiterate; knowing their prevailing foibles he assures them of his interest in their welfare, promises them friendship, applies the magic wand and secures their favor, simply from the fact that they have not sufficient intelligence to discover his entire unfitness for the station he seeks,-nor to resist his flattery and treat with disdain his hollow protestations. His success encourages another to engage in the same crusade, and his, another, until we have a starving swarm of political mountebanks, in one universal scramble for office. But let all our electors be so far enlightened as to discover and appreciate intelligence in others, and (as they naturally would) desire it in their rulers, they would be shielded from the impositions which they now suffer;-and the unqualified aspirants would from necessity, retire to their appropriate stations.

The American scholar should never engage as a party in a political conflict.

This he cannot do without increasing the very evil he seeks to allay. For the greater the number of candidates, the higher the excitement will rise. And moreover, without a consistent example, accompanying his detestation and abhorrence of party strife, he can affect nothing towards allaying it. He would not be regarded as sincere, but be justly charged with downright hypocrisy, with paving a way for his own exaltation. We do not mean, however, that he should never be a candidate for office,-but that he should not present himself, nor be a political hobby upon which a party might ride and guide at its own discretion. Such a course would be entirely inconsistent with intellectual greatness, and the character of a scholar. "Real merit is modest and retiring," and while it would never shrink from responsibility, yet it would not reach forth its own hand to pluck the flowers on the summit of Fame's high temple, however deserving of them. And the man, qualified for an office of trust and honor, would remain in private life, until he was sought out as a candidate for that office; and never obtrude himself upon public notice.