our motongue, o degenerate

    times; and  laboriously seek the meaning of each word and

    line, conjecturing a larger sense ts out of

    y we he modern cheap and

    fertile press, s translations, tle to bring

    us nearer to ters of antiquity.  they seem as

    solitary, and tter in wed as rare and

    curious, as ever.  It is hful days and

    costly  language,

    rivialness of treet, to be

    perpetual suggestions and provocations.  It is not in vain t the

    farmer remembers and repeats tin words which he has heard.

    Men sometimes speak as if tudy of t length

    make ical studies; but turous

    student udy classics, in hey may be

    ten and  t are the classics

    but t recorded ts of man?  the only oracles

    o t modern

    inquiry in t as well

    omit to study Nature because so read  is, to

    read true books in a true spirit, is a noble exercise, and one t

    ask toms of the

    day esteem.  It requires a training suces under,

    teady intention almost of to t.  Books

    must be read as deliberately and reservedly as tten.

    It is not enougo be able to speak t

    nation by erval

    betten language, the language heard and

    transitory, a sound, a

    tongue, a dialect merely, almost brutis

    unconsciously, like tes, of our mothe

    maturity and experience of t; if t is our motongue, this

    is our fatongue, a reserved and select expression, too