-- In the service of mankind to be
A guardian god below; still to employ
The mind's brave ardor in heroic aims,
Such as may raise us o'er the grovelling herd,
And make us shine for ever -- that is life.

THOMSON.

ONE of the first places to which a stranger is taken in
Liverpool, is the Athenæum. It is established on a liberal
and judicious plan; it contains a good library, and spacious
reading-room, and is the great literary resort of the place
Go there at what hour you may, you are sure to find it filled
with grave-looking personages, deeply absorbed in the study
of newspapers.

As I was once visiting this haunt of the learned, my
attention was attracted to a person just entering the room.
He was advanced in life, tall, and of a form that might once
have been commanding, but it was a little bowed by time --
perhaps by care. He had a noble Roman style of coun-
tenance; a head that would have pleased a painter; and
though some slight furrows on his brow showed that wasting
thought had been busy there, yet his eye still beamed with
the fire of a poetic soul. There was something in his whole
appearance that indicated a being of a different order from
the bustling race around him.

I inquired his name, and was informed that it was ROSCOE.
I drew back with an involuntary feeling of veneration. This,
then, was an author of celebrity; this was one of those men

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