The severe illness, terminating in a complication of diseases, which had afflicted him for two or three years, ended in his death on the 2nd of October, at the age of sixty-seven and a half years. The funeral ceremonies were attended by an im mense concourse. "But," says a correspondent, "I could not tell whether the government sent two regiments, and all the officers of the court to honor his memory, or to keep out of sight and hearing any republican tendencies of his friends; I thought, the latter. It is certain that there were two regiments and twenty-three thousand people at the funeral." Close to the bier were to be seen General Cavaignac, Béranger the poet, M. Goudchaux, and other persons, as a Paris paper erpresses it, formerly known for their republican principles. The Academy of Sciences followed, in costume, and a crowd of members of the other Academies of the Institute. Funeral orations were pronounced at the grave by the representatives respectively of the former Municipal Council, of which Arago was long a member, of the Bureau of Longitudes and the Academy of Sciences.

Arago has gone-"a setting sun, whose effulgence showed that it was merely passing below the horizon, to illuminate another sphere." France, mother of great men, has others who can fill his place, others who can perform his duties;-none who loved her more disinterestedly, none who have done more for her welfare, her progress, or her glory.

It was, as we have already said, in the halls of the Academy that Arago found his most appropriate sphere; it was here that his services have been most effectual, and to none more than to him is it owing, that this body occupies its present commanding position in the scientific world. It is here, too, that his loss will be most keenly felt; and the topic which would spontaneously suggest itself, at the name of Arago, is one to which we would gladly devote a few pages of our Review:the position of an Academy of Sciences in a well-ordered State, and an earnest plea for a National Academy in the United States.

More than two years ago, at the Albany Meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, of which some account was given in our last number, its distinguished President introduced this topic for the consideration of the Association, and eloquently advocated such steps as might lead to the establishment of "An Institution of Science in the United States, supplementary to existing ones, to guide public action in reference to scientific matters.' Let us resume the subject, and commence at the beginning.

Our nation has been said to live rather in the future than in

the present, to boast not so much of that which she is, as of what she will be, and when reproached for what she has not accomplished, to plead her youth in extenuation on the one hand, and lavish promises for the future, on the other. This is doubtless correct, certainly natural and defensible. With all the means of advancement which can be afforded by a practically unlimited expanse of territory; a vast extent of sea-board; a soil, in many portions, of almost fabulous fertility; with singular facilities for commerce, boundless resources of agricultural, manufacturing, and mineral wealth; with the monopoly of a production for which the whole world has become dependent on her; with a race of men, whom the joint influences of a fortunate combination of nationalities, of an ancestry both physically and intellectually strengthened by hardship, and of entire liberty, has raised to the world's representative type of energy, shrewdness, and ingenuity; with the freest institutions. our race has ever known; in short, with all that Heaven can grant or man desire,-her domain is manifestly in the future, rather than in the present.

The pride of nationality and the zeal of patriotism combine with the faith of the republican and hopefulness of the philanthropist, to give occasion for exultant joy at the glorious future revealed to us, as attainable for the father-land we love so well. A glorious future is indeed attainable; but is far, very far from sure. Look at the noble youth, radiant with the glow of intellect, flushed with the hues of health, overflowing with lofty enthusiasm, burning to mingle, sure of conquering, in the combat of life. Conscious of his high endowments of intellectual and physical power, he rushes on, heedless of restraint and guidance, and presses forward in the race. Who has not seen just such a youth as he-led astray by the allurements of the tempter become stronger, but only for harm; with intellect matured, but only for evil? Out of the strong has come forth bitterness, the glorious bud has blossomed into a upas flower, and the promised champion of truth and right has become a scourge to all around. This all have seen; and the experience of individuals is but typical of the fate of nations. Without the guiding hand of wisdom and morality, this mighty future dominion of America may be without national glory. The nation with whom are all

"Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,"

may share the fate, as she has shared the promise, of the youth. As to the young man, when he first tosses aside the bonds which have restrained him, is committed the power of entering,

almost irrevocably, upon that path which he shall pursue through life; so to the generations now arrived at maturity, is committed the destiny of America. Of such glory in peace as swarming myriads, a commerce whitening all seas, and wealth and majesty throughout a wide-spread soil can give, of victorious triumph in war, we may be assured. But it is our solemn duty to decide once for all, whether it is this, and, if not, what it is, which constitutes a great nation? and, having decided, to shrink from no responsibility in order to insure it-to be deterred by no apparent obstacle.

What is it, then, that constitutes a great nation? To what condition do we wish to raise our much-loved native land? What is the glorious future toward which we look with such exultant anticipation-for our children, if not for ourselves? What is the welfare of America or of Americans, for which we strive? These are questions which must be answered before any great step, or any line of national policy is entered upon; before an opinion can be formed as to the foundation of any institution, or the proper discharge of the first duties of a citizen. Assume our territory to be extended till it equals that of Russia, our population to be increased till it rivals that of China, and our victorious armies to subjugate our neighbors, as did those of conquering Rome, Are we happier, if happiness be our end and aim? Are we better, if excellence be the standard; or wiser, if wisdom? Is the absolute condition of the relatively poorer classes elevated, or are the wealthy more refined?

No. We do not live in order to feed ourselves, that we may live a little longer. We do not labor, in order that the opportunity of laboring may still be afforded us. We do not ask for that country, that she may attain the means of injuring her neighbors without benefiting herself, nor that she may be enabled to utter boasts as to the extent of her boundary-lines, as empty and meaningless as boasts of the length of her rivers or the height of her mountains. Let those limits be expanded till her boundaries are oceans, and what then? There are but two fit subjects for a nation's pride-the character, and the happiness of her people. To promote these is the only legitimate aim of enlightened statesmanship; to increase the happiness and elevate the character of his countrymen is the prime motive which actuates every patriot. No matter what his immediate aim, it must be as a means of attaining one of these objects, that he desires a successful issue. The trans-Atlantic steamship or the Pacific railroad, the annexation of a State or the organization of a territory, the imposition or abatement of a tariff, the establishment of a sub-treasury or of a cheap-post

age law, all may and must be judged by one standard only; and the only proper basis for the existence of party, is an honest difference of judgment as to the ultimate influence of any measure, or system of measures, upon the character or happiness of the people.

And how shall these, in a free community, be secured? Freedom implies, or should imply, equality before the law. It cannot impart to the musician the gifts of the mechanical inventor, nor to the astronomer the genius of the sculptor, nor to the orator the intellect of the statesman. Classes there are, and ever must be; the physical and moral diversities, and the endless variety of tastes and powers by which the Creator has distinguished us, one from another, prescribe, as well as indicate, the difference of the sphere in which we are to labor. The maximum happiness of a people is attained, as one of our most accomplished scholars has said, when they shall labor under the light of cultivated intellect, "each in his appropriate sphere, whether of head or hand, and while the noblest work shall receive the highest honor, the lowest task shall not be unaccompanied by its satisfactions of heart and mind; and when, by the right adjustment of faculty to occupation, the intellectual, moral, and physical results of human achievement shall be multiplied to infinity."

Considerations like all these, may seem far from the subject which we are professing to consider, but they lie at the foundation of the question which we are desirous of discussing, viz: whether the welfare of the United States would not be promoted in every respect by the establishment of an institution analogous to the academies of science which exist in every country of cultivated Europe, such modifications being of course made as are desirable for adapting such a national institution to the character and necessities of our people.

The

The common-school needs no plea in the United States, thank God. No one is so blind as not to perceive that it is the only bulwark of our liberties, an indispensable requisite for the morality and the welfare of our population. majority of every people, although their tastes and means alike limit them to such education as may be obtained at the common-school, are fully competent for this; and if so much be provided them, their children will be capable of more.. But the same arguments which would lead us to provide the common-school for one, compel us to furnish a higher education still for another; and where does the scale end? If it be the duty of a State to give as much education to one as he can profit by, it is for the same reason incumbent on it to give as much to every other one as he may require, and the upper

limit will be that of the intellectual capacity of our race. And, considering the question as one of policy alone, rather than of duty, the same reasoning holds good; and it becomes evident that if, as we maintain, both the happiness and the character of a people are advanced in proportion to the correct adjustment of faculty to occupation among the individuals of whom the people is composed, it becomes the interest of every state and nation to carry out to the utmost every system and every organization which may lead to this desirable end, and to provide for every one of its citizens the full amount of education requisite for the attainment of the harmony required between the inward capability and the outward career.

We thus attain at once the idea of a University and of an Academy; of the University as the crown of the series of institutions for instruction; of the Academy, as providing the most efficient means of attaining the knowledge which the University is to dispense, by enabling those men whose intellectual organization is the most appropriate for the purpose, to work in unison for the increase of knowledge.

Regarding the Academy from this point of view, we are led to the consideration of the mutual relations which should exist between the common-school, the high-school, the University, and the academy, the three former being designed to communicate, in different degrees, and to recipients of different intellectual capacities, that knowledge to which our race has attained; and the aim of the latter being to increase the amount of this knowledge both by its own labors, and by guiding and assisting the labors of others. The true professor strives that his learning may instruct, and elevate, and bless, not merely the youths ranged along the desks before him, but also the community and mankind. He seeks to illuminate his country and his race directly and indirectly, and would gladly gather about him a school of disciples who shall become apostles of truth to the more distant corners of the land, and of the civilized earth. The academician occupies a very distinct position, although by no means incompatible with the former. Before nature and nature's deity, he is the humble pupil, but a pupil that must learn, rather than be taught. Before him lies the illimitable field, the vast expanse of unknown truths and laws; he stands upon the margin of the surging sea of the unknown, which it is for him, or for no one, to venture out upon and to explore. Before his colleagues, he is the critic, the judge, the helper. His station permits no apodictical instruction, active or passive; he listens, explores, communicates.

These relations, to which we may, at some future time, recur, have been discussed, with masterly ability and great wisdom,